“Sturgill, how come you have never asked me out?” she asked me.
“Jen, that would be totally inappropriate,” I answered immediately. “You work for me, and I would never take advantage of that.”
“Then I quit!” she laughed, leaning over so that her breasts brushed the top of the bar.
“That’s your decision.”
“Oh, man, you are such a grump!” she slurred, dropping back into her barstool and taking a noisy slurp of her drink. “I just think we would make a great couple, you know? I mean, since we work together and everything? You like me, I can tell.”
At that point I reached over to the back of her chair and pushed on it to swivel her to face me. She raised her eyebrows in surprise but then grinned up at me, apparently waiting for me to say something to complete her fantasy. Instead, I had to let her down in no uncertain terms.
“Jen, I think I will only have to tell you this once,” I began, measuring my words to make sure she kept up, even in her inebriated state. “There is nothing romantic between us. There never will be. It is not an insult to you in any way. I am simply your doctor, and your employer. That is all I will ever be.”
As I spoke, I could see her expression change. She went from hopeful, to doubtful, to angry. By the time I finished my last sentence, her eyes were flashing furiously.
“You know what?” she hissed in a dangerous whisper, “you are an asshole. I am a lady, and I do not normally say these things, okay? But you, Sturgill Warner, are an asshole!”
And she slid off the barstool and clomped away, weaving slightly between the tables on her way back to her group of friends. Everyone else turned their eyes toward me disapprovingly, pursing their lips in silent judgments before resuming their conversations.
I am fairly certain that Jen is the one who started people calling me Dr. Stud. It is not meant as a compliment, I am sure.
But since then, she has maintained a cold professional distance, usually without any bitterness. She is careful around me, and I guess I can understand that is the best I can hope for. Other than finding someone much older, Jen is the best I can do. At least I was right, and I only had to tell her once.
The rest of the afternoon seems to go by slowly. I peruse medical articles online for a time and answer a few emails. My Peace Corps buddy in Costa Rica, Arthur, sent me a invitation to join him for the annual surgical event they have. They repair cleft palates in babies and children free of charge. It is a grueling few weeks, but a worthy cause. Repairing that birth defect changes the quality of life for those children in monumental ways.
I almost delete the email without responding, for the third year in a row, but then decide that would be rude. I participated years ago and found it rewarding, even if the surgical suites were somewhat primitive. Peace Corps memories are some of the best I have. I decide to send him a brief note.
“Thanks for the invite. I will have to get back to you on this. Hope you and the wife are doing great!”
When the phone rings, I almost ignore it, then remember that Jen has left for the day. I answer absentmindedly as I stare the email before clicking the send button.
“Warner medical,” I murmur distractedly.
“Oh, Sturgill?” Grant says, surprised. “Is Jen out? I just need her real quick.”
“Yeah, she left for the day. Can I help you with something?”
“I guess so… This prescription she called in? The Loestrin? Do you have a phone number for her? It’s ready and I want to close up.”
“You think the fish are biting?” I smile, bringing up Joanna’s file on the screen.
“They damn well better be,” Grant huffs. “I’ve got a new carbon rod to try out.”
I squint at the form, trying to find her phone number. “Grant, I don’t see it… She’s a new patient and it looks like Jen left that out or something…”
“Dang it, that figures,” Grant sighs dramatically.
“No, it’s all right,” I sigh, standing up. “I was just heading out anyway. I’ll swing by and pick it up so you can close.”
“Yeah? That would be great.”
“You bet. I’m a full-service physician, after all.”
Yeah, that’s what I am, I tell myself wryly. Just a regular old country doctor, making a regular old house call.
Chapter 11
Joe