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When I made my way back into the exam room, Oz was gone. Worried that he’d left without his prescription, I hurried toward the front desk, but stopped abruptly when I heard Oz’s laughter.
“I told you, color is my language.”
Female laughter followed, then I heard Nancy, the receptionist, say, “Maybe you can help us, then. Doc Sharma approved an interior designer to bid on the lobby refit, but I’m not sure I like what he came up with.”
I moved around the corner so I could see a little better. My position allowed me to see Oz as he talked to both Nancy and Becky, Doc Sharma’s nurse. It looked like Oz was looking at some kind of sketch that Nancy was holding. He frowned briefly, then pasted a smile on his face and said, “Oh… um… that’s… well, that’s one way you could do it.”
Becky snorted. “Tell us how you really feel, Oz.”
I could see Oz’s face pinken just a little, and I felt my body respond accordingly.
“Keep in mind I do fashion design, not interior design, but I do know that a medical waiting room should be soothing. These colors aren’t soothing at all. I mean, don’t they make you want to punch something? Also, it seems obvious to me a doctor’s office shouldn’t be decorated the same color as blood, even if it does make it easier to hide carpet stains.”
I couldn’t help but smile at Oz’s complete lack of tact, and I had no doubt it was because he felt so strongly on the matter. I’d already seen his obsession with color myself. In fact, I still had the damn proof of it sitting on my couch in the living room. For some reason I had yet to rescue my green shirt from the pillow, and the quilt was still resting on the back of the couch.
The ladies began giggling as they nodded their heads in agreement. “That’s what Becky said,” Nancy agreed. “It’s a little aggressive, for lack of a better word.”
“Hm,” Oz said, tilting his head. “I wonder if the designer used these blocky benches in this area to save money or for easy cleanup? They look really uncomfortable. But even if you kept them in, you could add a built-in padded cushion to the wall behind it for people to lean back against. There are some great fabrics that would be easily washable, and when the cushions get worn or stained, you could just swap out the cover fabric. They’re easy to make with some simple lumber and a staple gun.”
“That’s the kids’ area,” Nancy added. “And all I can think about is a kid hitting their head on the corner of one of those things.”
“You could replace them with something different. Kids need to feel comfortable at a doctor’s office, and these hard edges are anything but,” he said.
Oz was deep in thought as he studied the design and I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.
Becky nodded. “Like maybe some big floor pillows or beanbags made out of the same or coordinating fabric. That way there would be a comfy place for them to watch a video or play with the toys if wait times ran long.”
Oz nodded excitedly. “Exactly. And if you had a half-height cubby set right here, it could provide a place to store the toys and visually separate the space without blocking the parents’ view of their kids.”
Nancy looked up at him with a huge smile. “You’re brilliant! If only we’d hired you to do the designs. Now, what colors would you pick?”
Before Oz could answer, Doc Sharma rounded the corner and gave me a slap on the shoulder. “Do you still have Oz’s chart?” he asked. His voice carried loud enough that both ladies and Oz turned to look at us. Oz stiffened when he saw me and all the life I’d seen in his eyes as he’d spoken with the women drained away.
“Ah, sure, here,” I said as I handed him the chart but hung onto the prescription.
“Doc, Oz here had some great ideas for the lobby refit,” Nancy called. “And he agrees with us about this awful color scheme.”
“Oh yeah?” Doc Sharma said with interest as he moved past me. “What kind of ideas?”
Oz seemed to hesitate before he responded. When he did, some of the passion was gone and I knew why.
Because he was focused on me and waiting for me to interrupt, to dismiss him. He kept looking my way as he repeated all the things he’d discussed with the ladies. But the animation wasn’t there. His smile was stiff and forced.
Fuck, I’d really done a number on him.
“Damn,” Doc Sharma muttered as he studied the design and then looked at Oz. “Your ideas are a much better fit, but we’ve already signed a contract with the designer who came up with this.” He lifted the design in his hand. “We’re barely making ends meet, so we can’t really afford to pay for this design and a new one.” He looked pointedly at Oz. “In addition to serving the residents of Haven, we also treat a lot of patients from the surrounding communities who can’t afford health insurance and whose government assistance doesn’t always cover everything. So we don’t have a lot of extra money to throw around.”
