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This place feels like it’s meant to be mine.
Inside, the clinic is quiet. The carpenters can’t come back until the electricians finish and the place still looks more spa than doctor’s office.
“Hey, boss.” Gentry, her brown curls up in a loose bun, smiles over her shoulder without taking her hands out of the filing cabinet where she’s arranging folders. We’re going to keep the clinic as paper-free as possible, but there’s just no getting away from paper altogether.
I walk over and lean on the counter separating the waiting room from her office. “Had any new patients sign up?”
She sighs heavily, shuts the drawer, and turns to face me. Her pale porcelain skin is rosy, like she’s been out in the wind recently. “I’ve had a few people call and ask about you, but no one’s ready to sign up to be seen by the hippie from out of town.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this from Gentry. It doesn’t matter to the town that I’m a certified and licensed family doctor. I want to focus on prevention and using alternative methods when Western medicine isn’t the best answer, so I’m the hippie. The out-of-town part is self-explanatory.
“Hopefully, the grand opening party will bring in patients.” We open in less than two weeks and the grand opening party will be a week after that. I’d hoped we’d have a few patients already, to spread word-of-mouth about the party and the clinic, but that’s not going as planned.
“You should get married.” Gentry throws the suggestion out like she’s advising me on what restaurant to try for lunch. She turns back to her files. “Or at least seriously date someone.”
“How would that help with anything?”
She shakes her head and turns back to face me. Since we’re not expecting patients, she’s in an over-sized t-shirt and blackleggings. With the disgusted expression on her face, she looks more like a teenager than a grown woman, even though I’ve seen her ID and know she’s twenty-two. “You have to pay attention to the question under the question, Doc.”
“You said they’ve been asking where I’m from and where I went to school. I don’t think there’s an ulterior motive there.”
She holds up a hand. “When they ask where you’re from, they’re really asking how long until you move back there. You’re from nowhere and everywhere - a huge flight risk.” She folds down one finger. “When they ask where you went to school, they want to know whether you’re a city boy who’s going to get bored with our small town. You got a degree from NYU, huge city, and Johns Hopkins, big city.” She folds down another finger. “When they ask if you’re married or dating anyone, they want to know if you’re settling down with someone who wants to be here too or if some tourist from the city might yank you away from us.” She curls her hand into a fist and shakes it at me. “No one wants to create a relationship with a doctor who’s not going to stick around for the long-term.”
“They’d rather keep driving two hours?” The only doctor in town retired last year, leaving a vacancy in Catalpa Creek that means people have to make a hell of a trek for medical care.
“There’s an urgent care half an hour away. And the hospital’s only an hour away. The people who are driving two hours to see a general practitioner are seeing someone they trust and believe will be with them for years. Changing doctors regularly is a sure way for diseases to be missed.” She shudders.
Gentry has only been working for me for two weeks, but she’s already shown me three moles she thought might be cancerous and asked if gassiness after eating fast food is a sign of a burst appendix. She’s a hypochondriac, but denies it vehemently.
But she’s not wrong about why people might be wary about signing on to be a patient with me.
“Can I get more involved in -”
“Hey, Noah.” Levi Sullivan walks into the waiting area, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at Gentry, as he usually does whenever she’s in the same room. Or the area. Or in possible imminent sight. Levi’s at least five years older than Gentry, and he’s not ugly. Some might say he’s drop-dead gorgeous. At least, that’s what I’ve heard around town.
Levi is Daisy’s cousin, who recently moved back to town with his brothers, after growing up here. As the youngest of the Sullivans, he’s known in the family as the biggest prankster and the beloved, spoiled baby of the family. Consensus is, he’s also a good guy and popular with women, except Gentry.
Gentry rolls her eyes and turns her back on poor Levi. When I asked her why she had a problem with him yesterday, she refused to say anything more than it’s nothing that would prevent him from doing a good job here.
“Everything going good back there?” I ask.
“Everything’s great.” He’s still watching Gentry, something like awe glowing in his eyes. Is that what I look like when I look at Daisy? “Sam’s going to make a donut run. You want anything?”
“I’m good.” Sugar in the morning has never done good things for me. “Thanks for asking.”
“How ‘bout you, Gentry.” Levi drops his elbows on the counter and leans toward her. “You want a donut?”
She looks back over her shoulder at him, eyes narrowed. “It’s Miss Foster to you, Levi. Please ask Sam to get me a maple bacon. I’m paying.”
Her emphasis on the last two words suggests either Sam or Levi has refused to let her pay in the past.
“Of course, Miss Foster.” the way he drags out her last name makes her eyes heat, before her expression goes stone cold.
Gentry glares at me as Levi saunters off. “Don’t even think about telling me I shouldn’t be mean to such a nice guy.”
I hold up my hands. “Not my business. And I don’t have sufficient evidence to indicate Levi is a nice guy.”
Her shoulders slump. “He isn’t a mean guy. He’s just not the kind of guy who sticks around after the third date. He’s my brother’s best friend and—” She waves a hand, stopping herself. “And you don’t need to know all that.”
