My driver, a young man named Carlo, has the radio cranked to a light rock station and is singing rather loudly in broken English. What he lacks in talent he more than makes up for in enthusiasm.
The traffic is bad as usual. Thanks to Carmen, I know what usual looks like around here, and as we make the slow crawl toward the hospital exit, all I can think about is seeing her again, holding her and hoping she still wants me as much as I want her. And more than anything, I hope the presentation she put together on my behalf will sway the Miami-Dade board and convince them to allow me to join their team so I can live and work in her town—the only place in the world where she can truly be happy.
That’s what I want for her—happiness. She deserves it more than anyone I’ve ever met, and I want to be the one to give that to her for the rest of our lives. Of course, I can’t tell her that. Not yet anyway. But that’s what I want, and if things go well today, I may be able to offer her the first steps toward forever.
I just hope she still wants me after the turmoil I’ve brought to her life since we met.
A new song comes on the radio, something familiar, but I can’t quite place where I’ve heard it before. Probably in my mom’s minivan back when she was driving my brother and me to school and practices and everywhere else. We used to make such fun of the “dorky light rock” she made us listen to in the car. “My car, my music,” she used to say, telling us we could pick the songs when we had our own cars.
The song tells the story about a guy whose girl left him because she thought he’d been untrue to her, how he’s haunted by her, would give anything to be with her. I’m riveted as I listen to Carlo sing the chorus, “That’s how much I feel.” But it’s the last verse that really gets to me, the part where we find out the guy is married now, has been for years, but sometimes when he makes love to his wife, he still sees the face of the one who got away.
I’m struck by complete and utter panic, knowing that’ll be me if I lose Carmen. I’ll be haunted by her forever.
No matter what happens today with the board, I have to find a way to work it out with her. After spending this last week without her, I have no doubt that what I feel for her is a forever kind of love.
“Sir?”
I snap out of my thoughts to realize Carlo has been trying to get my attention.
“We’re here. Miami-Dade General Hospital.”
“Thanks, Carlo.”
“My pleasure.”
I grab my backpack and get out of the air-conditioned car into the stifling heat that I’ll forever associate with Carmen and my first week in Miami. I’m wearing a light-blue dress shirt with a navy tie and khakis. Inside, I find the first men’s room and pull the white coat I brought from New York out of my backpack. It has JASON NORTHRUP, MD embroidered on it. I put it on and check my reflection in the mirror. If I’m going to meet with the board and ask for a job on their neurosurgery team, I’m going to do it looking like the highly qualified physician I am.
I want to go straight to Carmen’s office to tell her what’s going on, but I recall my vow to stay away until I have something definite to report. I take the elevator to the executive offices on the fifth floor and take a right toward the boardroom when everything in me wants to go left to her.
First things first.
With my hand on the boardroom door handle, I take a deep breath and release it before entering the room where Mr. Augustino asked me to meet him ahead of the board members joining us.
He shakes my hand. “Good to see you again, Dr. Northrup.”
“You as well. Thank you for seeing me and arranging the meeting.”
“I’ll confess to being surprised to hear that you still wanted to meet with our board. I was under the impression that you’d be resuming your duties in New York.”
“They’ve offered me my old job back and promised a promotion to department head when the current chief retires at the end of next year.”
“That’s a pretty sweet offer. Our department head is around your age, so I’m afraid she’s probably here to stay for a while.”
“I understand.”
“You have the chance to be the department head next year in New York.”
“Yes.”
“And you still want to meet with our board?”
“Yes, sir. Very much so.” I suppose he’ll find out soon enough why I want so badly to work here.
He gives me a curious look before nodding. “All right then. Have a seat. The board will be joining us in thirty minutes.”
“And the presentation Ms. Giordino put together?”
He points to the spot above us where a camera is trained on the screen at the other end of the long table. “It’s set to go.”
“Thank you again.”
“My pleasure. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back shortly.”
While I wait, I pace the length of the long room, thinking about what I want to say to the board and wondering if I’ll have something to report to Carmen as soon as today. I sure as hell hope so. I can’t wait another day to see her.
I stand at the window, looking out at the driveway where I first laid eyes on her, and think about the conversation I had with my mom last night. I told her about Carmen, caught her up on the goings-on in New York and told her of my plan to ask the Miami-Dade board to consider hiring me after all.
“You’re making an awfully big decision based on a woman you’ve known a very short time. After what happened with Ginger, I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
I smile, recalling her concern and how I set her mind at ease. “Carmen is nothing like Ginger,” I told her. “You’re going to love her. This feels right to me, Mom. Nothing has ever felt as right as being with her does. That’s all I can tell you.” I can’t wait to introduce the two most important women in my life to each other.
The minutes go by slowly, as if the clock is moving in the opposite direction. Twenty-five minutes after Mr. Augustino left the room, the door opens and Mona comes in carrying a tray of cookies and other snacks for the meeting. She lets out a gasp when she sees me there.
“Debby in the cafeteria was right! The meeting is about you!”
I’m not sure how I feel about being the source of cafeteria gossip, but after withstanding the New York tabloids, that’s nothing. “It’s good to see you, Mona. Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t tell Carmen I’m here. I want to surprise her.”
“Of course. My lips are sealed.” She leans in to whisper. “Good luck, Doc. I hope you get whatever it is you want.”
“Thank you.”
A short time later, Mr. Augustino returns, and the board members begin filing into the room, a mix of races, genders and ages. I’ve done my research and know that half of them are physicians, the other half prominent members of the community.
The board chair, a black woman named Dr. Felicia Rider, calls the meeting to order after everyone is seated. “Dr. Northrup, welcome.”
“Thank you, Dr. Rider. I appreciate the opportunity to meet with you all.”
“You asked for this meeting, so the floor is yours.”
Well, here goes nothing. Or everything . . . “Just over two weeks ago, I arrived at Miami-Dade after leaving behind a bit of a mess in New York. You know the details of what happened there. Since that time, the other party involved has reached out to the boards here and in New York and provided updated information about what transpired, so I won’t belabor the point. Upon my arrival at Miami-Dade, I was told the board wanted some time to consider my application for privileges. Mr. Augustino assigned the supremely competent new director of public relations, Carmen Giordino, to assist in helping me to acclimate to the local community and to make a case for my employment at your hospital. What follows is the presentation Ms. Giordino prepared for that meeting.”