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“What’s the name?” I asked.
“His name is Jordan.”
“Hmm. Ok. Got it.” I scribbled something more inspirational than my father had ever put in a birthday card, and handed it back to the man.
“He’s not going to believe it.” He glanced at the signature.
Seemed like a theme for the day. I didn’t believe what I had encountered either.
“Thanks for the ride.” I tossed a fifty in the front seat without bothering to hear the charge for the five-minute drive.
I pulled the collar up around my neck as the snow blew sideways. The bell jingled overhead as I walked into the restaurant.
2
Evie
I used the heel of my hand to blot a tear in the corner of my eye. It was the best way to keep the mascara from smudging. I sniffed involuntarily. I didn’t have a tissue on me.
“I do understand. I just hoped that I could set up a second payment plan,” I explained. I worked to keep the pleading to a minimum.
“Miss Rossi, we don’t want our patients to go into unnecessary debt.”
My throat closed. This wasn’t unnecessary to me. Quite the opposite. It was completely necessary in every way.
“But I only need one more treatment. I have this feeling, you know? If I could set another appoint—”
The nurse cut me off. Her voice was soft but firm. “Not until you have a zero account balance. It’s against our policy. I’m happy to forward a copy of the paperwork you signed. This was outlined and explained to you in your initial exam. It’s standard for all patients.”
I leaned against the wall in the hallway to the kitchen. I could hear Leo screaming something to the dishwasher. I walked outside in my short-sleeve shirt despite the snow. I didn’t want the distractions from the kitchen to interfere with this call.
“Maybe if I could talk to Dr. Mickson again. She knows my case. She’s worked with me since the beginning. And really, she said I’m the perfect candidate to keep trying. If you’d just consider making an exception this once.”
Ok. I had given up on not begging. I was going into full-blown groveling mode if I had to. I just needed this nurse to understand what she was telling me. What she was denying me.
“Miss Rossi, no. Our accountant will be in touch. Until then I can’t schedule any more treatments for you. Call us back when you’re ready to move forward again. Best of luck to you.”
I stared at the blank screen on the phone. The snowflakes melted instantly when they touched the shiny surface. I wiped it against my shirt before stuffing it into the front pocket on my apron.
I heard my name through the screen door.
“Evelyn, you’ve got a guy at seven.”
“Coming,” I called. There was something calming about watching the snow fall. Even if it was only for a deceptive few seconds. It felt peaceful. Tranquil.
I straightened my spine and pulled my ponytail higher on my head. I had a way of dealing with a crisis—I didn’t. I’d pretend that phone call never happened. I’d march into the restaurant and serve the customer a
t table seven. It was as if I could pull a curtain down between my heart and my brain. It worked like a charm.
I would never admit that my last chance to have a baby had evaporated. I wasn’t going to face that I was in debt over ten thousand dollars to the fertility clinic, or that every in vitro I tried ended the same way. With a negative pregnancy test.
I wasn’t ready to look in the mirror and accept that I was only two weeks away from turning thirty, with no boyfriend, in a town with no single men to date.
“Where is she?” the head chef snapped.
“On my way.” I smiled at Leo. “I heard you, Leo. I’ve got him.” I patted the lumbering chef on the back as I walked past to the dining room. I was certain we had hired the grumpiest chef in the county. Nothing made him happy.
He huffed. “He’s been out there ten minutes waiting for you.”
