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I took hold of her wheelchair’s handles, handing my carry-on to my new charge (thank heaven for multi-directional wheels) and started after Dr. Donaldson. I would’ve lost him entirely if he hadn’t been tall enough for me to spot his brown curls above the crowd.
My bedside manner reflexes kicked in. “I’m Cassie.” Most of my patients responded better to my first name than my title. “What’s your name?”
“Glennis.”
I managed to restrain myself from trying to take her patient history, skipping straight to reassuring her until we caught up with Dr. Donaldson, fighting the crowd outside the NationAir lounge. Curse these rich travelers too oblivious to notice they were blocking the whole concourse.
Dr. Donaldson did a double take when he saw I’d acquired another traveler. “This is Glennis,” I preempted his questions. “She was going to miss her flight, and the airport workers seem to have lost her.”
He eyed me. “We’re also going to miss our flight.”
“I think we’ll have time. She’s at F14.”
He pursed his lips. Once we made it around the lounge crowd, he picked up his pace.
“Dr. Donaldson, wait.”
“A doctor?” Glennis perked up. “Oh, dearie, you’re so kind you could be his nurse instead of his wife.”
He’d turned around in time to definitely not miss that statement, nor my flinch. It was the second time this weekend someone had assumed that a man and a woman traveling together had to betogethertogether. “We’re not—we’re not married.” We hadn’t even stayed on the same floor of the hotel, people.
“I’ll take that.” Dr. Donaldson held out a hand for my carry-on and Glennis surrendered it. “Dr. Croftis an excellent doctor and colleague,” he informed her. I silently thanked him for not mentioning that I wasn’t quite done with my fellowship, the final phase of training for the specialization I’d chosen.
“A female doctor?” Glennis clasped her hands. “Isn’t that special!”
Dr. Donaldson, now keeping pace with us, cast me a sidelong glance. On second thought, maybe I was okay with him trotting out my medical pedigree. Then again, Glennis might not appreciate the prestige of the programs I’d completed if she’d time-traveled here directly from 1949. Or 1849.
Glennis explained to Dr. Donaldson what she’d already told me: she’d been visiting her great-grandchildren and now was headed home to Arizona. She listed off all five grandchildren’s names, everything they’d seen this week, and the names of her three Maltipoos waiting back in Tempe.
Or maybe I fell into the habit of taking a personal history after all. I hoped she didn’t feel interrogated.
We reached an open shopping area in the middle of the F gates and a fork in the concourse: F5–F10 to the right, F11–F20 to the left.
Naturally.
Dr. Donaldson shot me another meaningful look, but I couldn’t abandon Glennis here and hope someone would get her the rest of the way in the next fifteen minutes. “This will only take a second,” I assured him.
The skeptical set to his mouth didn’t soften in the slightest. How could he not understand? I might have just met Glennis, but I certainly couldn’t fail her. I told her I would help her. This wasn’t a hospital where a CNA would come along any minute.
Dr. Donaldson didn’t move.
I lowered my voice. “What would you do if it were your grandma?”
I wasn’t sure whether he had any living grandparents or if he felt close to them, but my gamble paid off: Dr. Donaldson waved his hand for me to step aside and he took hold of Glennis’s wheelchair handles, trading me for my carry-on.
Then he took off down the left fork of the concourse, nearly sprinting. I had to run to keep up with his long legs.
We reached F14, the second gate on the left, and Dr. Donaldson managed to stop without catapulting Glennis from her chair. He bid her goodbye, but I couldn’t dump her there. I quickly talked to an attendant, taking Glennis’s boarding pass and handing it to him.
It had taken less than five minutes extra, but as we backtracked through the concourse and headed for our gate at a quick march, my lungs were tightening from more than powerwalking. Dr. Donaldson kept his eyes forward, his jaw set. He was mad. At me. I thought he was an even-keeled guy, but maybe I’d never seen him mad.
I’d seen my promise through for Glennis. Had I failed Dr. Donaldson?
We made it to F6 as they finished boarding first class, business class, and people needing assistance. Dr. Donaldson kept his arms folded.
“Sorry,” I finally murmured as we took up a position standing close to the area to line up. We weren’t in A group, but there was nowhere to sit in the waiting area anyway.
Dr. Donaldson shook his head like he was shaking off a bad mood. “We made it. That’s what’s important.”
