The Hero

“Sure, Devon,” Sarah said, looking a little bewildered.

Taking a couple of deep breaths as she crossed the street, she went back into the open house. The crowd had thinned a little. Dr. Grant was talking to Mac, Lou’s nephew. Dr. Grant held his daughter on his hip. She stood back a bit, a little nervous, until both men stopped talking and turned her way, their brows raised in question.

“Dr. Grant, I’ve been looking for openings, for work, and as it happens I’ve worked in a doctor’s office. It’s been a long time, just over five years, and I was only part-time, but I know how to do all the things a medical secretary does. I answered the phones, I’m up to speed on HIPAA regulation, have filed insurance claims, scheduled appointments, all that. The doctor said I did a good job, but she closed her practice. It was just less than a year of experience but it was an ob-gyn practice and there are hardly any crazier, more demanding patients, especially with a doctor who gets called out a lot for deliveries, leaving people waiting. So, if you’re looking for someone... I mean, would you consider me? If there’s no one else? I heard you say you didn’t have anyone and...”

He smiled at her. “I’d love to talk about it,” he said. “Can you come to the office Monday morning?”

She let out her breath. Even though she was well aware he might not find her qualified, she felt as though she’d just shed thirty pounds! “Yes,” she said. “If you’re sure...”

“I’d love to hear more about your short career in obstetrics,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll be here by eight and stay till five or so. Anytime you’re free.”

“Thank you,” she said in a breath. “I’ll, ah, see you. Monday. Yes. And thanks for letting me come to your open house!”

“I’m glad you stopped in.”

* * *

After better than a year of pounding the pavement looking for work in Seattle, followed by four years in a commune, Devon had a job interview. All those old feelings of vulnerability and fear rose to the surface once again.

She had worried all weekend about what to say, how to say it, how to talk about her work history with that long five-year gap and not come off looking like some freak or loser. She had learned during her struggle to find employment that many people thought the poor, jobless, homeless citizens were all drunks, addicts, lazy or lunatics. They didn’t recognize how many of them were senior citizens, war veterans and other victims of the failing economy. The high rate of business closures and escalating unemployment rate made it tough for anyone to find work. Many of the jobless were well educated and hardworking, just like herself.

Though she was very nervous about her meeting with Dr. Grant, she was also determined. And it was Rawley who gave her the courage to see it through. He said, “Listen here, miss. If you find yourself a job, it’s a start. And if you don’t get the job, it don’t matter. We’ll go on the same, and you’ll just try again.”

“I just don’t know why you’re so kind to me, a perfect stranger,” she said.

“Like I told you before, I been on your end of things and I have a lot to pay back. And two, you ain’t hardly a stranger anymore.”

She left Mercy with Rawley at the beach bar. Cooper gave her a lift across the beach to town first thing in the morning. She was waiting when Dr. Grant unlocked his office door. He was surprised and seemed pleased to see her. While he brewed some coffee in that tiny break room, they chatted about general things—how she liked the beach, the town, the people she’d met. She asked him how long he’d been in Thunder Point and was very surprised to learn he’d only been in Oregon for about a year, working in Bandon, and had found a house to rent in Thunder Point only a month ago. He had come from Vancouver.

“And I’m originally from Seattle,” she said. “That’s where I grew up.”

When the coffee was brewed they sat down at the small table and Dr. Grant explained that he needed someone who was comfortable doing a wide variety of tasks. He was looking for someone who could manage the office; field phone calls; keep ahead of the paperwork; schedule patients; call in prescriptions and keep the office open six days a week, even though he would only be in for four of those days.

“I have two small children, my wife is deceased and I have another part-time job in Bandon. I need someone with good management skills to help me make the best use of my time, so that I can take care of my family responsibilities. And it goes without saying I need someone who’s good with people.”

“The woman who brought your children to the open house—I thought she must be your wife?” Devon asked.

“My babysitter,” he said with a laugh. “I’d be lost without her. Her name is Gabriella and I’ve known her and her family for a long time. So—this job? Is this something you think you can do?”

Devon stood and pulled a piece of paper from her back pocket.

“Resume?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I made a list of all the things I remember doing for Dr. Stadler. Imogene Stadler, if you want to try to locate her. She closed her office and joined an OB group, which left several of us out of work.” Then Devon detailed for Dr. Grant her extensive list of experience—filing; transcribing; writing prescriptions for the doctor to sign; taking patient histories; processing referrals; answering phones, to name a few. “There were times I was needed in the exam room as a chaperone and I learned to hand instruments to the doctor. I also went through lab tests, put results in charts and generally made sure Dr. Stadler had what she needed. Then there were things that just happened unexpectedly—the doctor’s seven-year-old threw up at school and I went to get her. We had an elderly patient suffer a stroke in the waiting room—and I swear it was nothing I did! I called more than one ambulance—a good number of OB patients want to see the doctor to ask if they’re really in labor. Never a good idea. If you have to ask...” She shrugged. Then she handed him the paper. “That’s everything I can remember. It’s been five years.”

He took the page and glanced at it. “Great. You appear to be well qualified.”

“I have a degree from the University of Washington—early childhood development. I was a teacher’s aide in kindergarten very briefly. It was a private school and it closed when funding ran out.”

“Is that your goal? To teach again?”

“I did love it, but these days any job is a good job. And I also liked working in the doctor’s office very much.”

“I think you’re just the person I’m looking for,” he said with a smile.

“Well, maybe not,” she said, bolstering herself. She sat straighter in her chair and lifted her chin. “I have a three-year-old and no babysitter. Yet, that is—I decided to find work before I looked for a sitter.”

He smiled at her. “That isn’t going to be a problem. I can help you with that.”

“Oh. That would be amazing. There is one thing I think you should know, though. My lifestyle before coming here wasn’t...typical. I lived with a group of people for four years. I worked very hard, and was very motivated, but I was mainly a domestic and a mother. And when I left, I left with no money and the clothes on my back. Mr. Rawley Goode, a distant cousin, has given us a place to stay.” Then she looked down.

Dr. Grant said nothing for a while. When she looked up, his face was gentle. “I take it you left a bad situation.”

She nodded. “I left before it became worse, before my daughter paid the price.”

“We’ll keep this between us if you like. But a word of advice, Devon. Never feel embarrassed about taking your life back.”

“Thank you.”

“I’d like to hire you for a trial period. I have to protect the practice, so I’ll have to do a background check, just to make sure you’re not a criminal or wanted or anything that would put us in jeopardy. You’ll have access to prescriptions and drugs and I have to be diligent.”

She smiled at him. “I’ve never even had a traffic ticket. And I never have taken drugs—unless you count beer. I was a college student once, after all.”

“Understood,” he said, smiling back. “If you check out and if you do a good job of managing the office, we’re a team. All of this could take as long as a month. I’ll start you at this salary,” he said, writing a figure on a notepad, sliding it toward her. Six hundred a week! Her mouth fell open and she blinked. “If all goes well and everything checks out, I’ll double your pay in a month.”

Her hand actually went to her heart and she fought the urge to go limp. “But...but what about work clothes...I don’t... I can’t...”

“I’ll get you a uniform. A couple of sets of nurse’s scrubs. You’ll need white tennis shoes.”

“I can do that.”

“Do you need an advance on your pay?”

“No, but... Well, to do a background and check my employment and college transcripts, you’ll have to look for the name Devon Anne McAllister. I’ve been concerned that someone is looking for me. I don’t know that for sure, but someone...the man I lived with could come looking for me. If he were to ask people...”

Scott Grant was frowning. “Were you abused, Devon?”

Clear-eyed and calm, she answered, “He forbade me to leave. We weren’t married but he said I was free to go without my daughter. Of course I couldn’t do that. I left without his approval.”

Scott Grant folded his hands on the small table. “You’re clear now, aren’t you? That’s abuse? Right?”

“It could be a lot of things, I guess.”

“Should you talk to Deputy McCain about your experience?” he asked.

“No, I should try to get on with my life.”

“If I understand the law, you are, as the mother, the assumed custodial parent in an unmarried situation. The biological father has rights, and he can assert those rights legally. But preventing you from removing your child from his home would be considered custodial interference. Now, if you refused to acknowledge his legal rights, you would be guilty of the same. But this is a court matter.”

She shook her head. “He will never go near a lawyer or courtroom.”

“I see. Well. Before we start working together, I’d like us to make an agreement. I’ll help you as much as I can. I’d like you to give me your word—if you discover this man is looking for you, I want you to talk to Mac. He’s a good man. You can trust him. He would know what advice to give you.”

She nodded. “I can agree to that. I’d rather just put it all in the past.”

“Understandable.” He sipped from his cup. “So? Tomorrow at eight?”

“You weren’t planning on working on Tuesdays,” she reminded him.

“Tomorrow will be different. We’ll call it orientation. Bring your daughter and we’ll take her to my house together to meet Gabriella. I’ll check with her tonight, but I have no doubt she’ll be happy to take on one more three-year-old. I think the kids will like having a playmate. I think it will work for you.”

“Do you know how much she’ll charge?” she asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know, but Gabriella is very nurturing and reasonable. We’ll talk about it with her in the morning.”

“Okay. Yes, that’s wonderful.” When Devon stood, she found her legs were weak, her knees shaky. She put out her hand. “I don’t know how to thank you for giving me this chance. I promise I’ll do a good job.” She took a breath. She was exhausted. She smiled tremulously. “That took more energy than you can imagine.”

He stood as well, taking her hand. “You’ve had some struggles, haven’t you, Devon?”

“You have no idea,” she said on a breath.

“Then I’m glad I can be the one to offer you a chance to turn things around. From this moment on, it’s all up to you.”

Five

As Devon walked back across the beach, her spirits rose with each step. In her previous life, things had been so impossible! And now, at her very first try at finding a job, she was found acceptable. In fact Dr. Grant said “highly qualified”! It was beyond her imagination. She had tears running down her cheeks before she even realized it. She wiped at them impatiently.

When she was halfway across the beach, she stopped and looked out past the big rocks to the Pacific. There was a boat out there, a mere spec on the horizon. Sarah’s brother was on his paddleboard and it appeared he had a young boy along for the ride. The sun was high and bright; the air almost balmy. She passed a young mother with two small children playing on the beach, a stroller and a little cooler beside her towel. Mercy would like that—to be able to play and read and romp on the beach under a warm summer sun.

And she thought, God, if I’m lucky enough to make a life for myself and my child in this small place, I swear I will never complain about anything again!

She was halfway up the beach stairs when she saw him again. Spencer was just coming down. As he made to pass her on the stairs, he frowned and stopped. He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. “You all right?”

He must have noticed her tears. She wiped her cheeks and smiled a little. “I got a job,” she said in a faint whisper. She cleared her throat and tried that again. Louder. Stronger. “I got a job!”

He smiled at her. “Good for you. Where?”

“In the doctor’s office. Full-time!”

He just laughed, silently.

She pushed past him and ran the rest of the way up the stairs and into the bar. There was just Cooper behind the bar, putting things away. She knew her smile was huge and her cheeks bright with excitement. “Where is Rawley?”

“Well, now. Looks like that job interview went well,” Cooper said with a smile. “They’re in the kitchen. Rawley is making bread with Mercy—a first. I hope she’s taken charge. He’s never done that before.”

With a laugh, she darted into the kitchen. With a stool propped up to the counter, Mercy was kneading green dough, rolling it out and making snakes. “What are you two doing?” she asked.

“Mercy said she was good at making bread and pie crust,” Rawley explained. “I thought green would be fun.” He wiped his hands. “How’d it go?”

“I got it,” she said in a near whisper. “I start tomorrow. And unless there’s some problem I don’t know about, I can share Dr. Grant’s babysitter. He’s a single father with two little kids, so he knows it can get complicated for single parents.”

“Good for you,” he said. “How’s ’at feel?”

“Oh, Rawley, you can’t imagine.” Her eyes teared up again. “All weekend I prepared myself for the inevitable—that he wouldn’t find me qualified. Or even that I wouldn’t look the part. You just can’t imagine...”

He turned to grab his coffee. “I reckon I can imagine.”

“I should...ah...look around for a place of my own,” she said.

He lifted an eyebrow and gave her a half smile. “That so? Last time I looked, you didn’t have no truck full o’ furniture.”

“Maybe there’s something furnished,” she said. “We don’t need much.”

“You do that if you want to, but it ain’t necessary. I got used to the two of you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were cousins. Family. Ain’t hardly had any family. My mother, she passed when I was barely a man. I had no brothers or sisters and, don’t tell anyone, but there ain’t never been cousins. And there sure weren’t no woman who could stand a crazy old vet like me.”

Devon just laughed. She put a hand on his arm, bringing a slight blush to his cheeks. “You’re the furthest thing from crazy I know.”

“Is ’at right? Well, don’t tell Cooper. He thinks he’s doing me a good deed, keeping me in the bar like this, giving me work because I’m an odd one.”

“You’re not,” she said. “And I think Mercy loves you a little bit. I should pay you rent at least,” Devon said.

Rawley sipped his coffee then put down his cup. He leveled old blue eyes at her. “Here’s the deal, missy. I know how important it is to you to be independent—you wasted no time telling me. What I’d like most of all is for you to find your way. You had a trial or two getting this far, you have a kid...it’s high time your luck changes a little bit. It would do me good, being part of someone’s luck changing. It’ll probably do me more good than you. That old house is paid off. If you want to help with food, you go on ahead.”

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