sir. I have a single-track mind and I wanted to get myself set up in medicine before I took on that kind of responsibility. Frankly, taking care of me was just about all I could handle.”
“Smart man,” Dr. Caldwell replied.
Nate glanced outside at the spires that poked through the frosty cotton quilt that nature was spreading across the town and wondered why the scene tugged at him. Nostalgia, probably. “Thanks.”
“These letters of recommendation from Northwestern, from your commanding officers, the other naval doctors you’ve worked with and the head of the Hopi and Navajo tribes attest to the fact that you’re quite a gifted heart surgeon, Dr. Barzonni. Imagine what you could do here with all our new equipment.”
“I’m very excited about working with the cold beam laser. I got my initiation at Northwestern when I was doing ablations with Dr. Henry Klein. Do you know him?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure.”
“He’s been my mentor for years,” Nate replied, his words laced with respect.
Nate was extremely grateful for the guidance and friendship Dr. Klein had given him. Nate was also aware that the man looked upon him almost as family.
Nate continued. “Dr. Klein is the one who talked me into doing work on the reservation. Not only was the program government run and would pay a good chunk of my student loans, but he said I needed to get my hands away from the luxuries of big-city methods and equipment. He wanted me to learn how to use my instincts. Listen to my gut when dealing with patients. He wanted me to treat the patient not just the disease. My entire perspective on life changed. Thanks to him and my time on the reservation, I believe I found my calling.”
“Interesting. Is that what he did? Work on a reservation?”
“No. He spent five years in Kenya.”
Dr. Caldwell whistled. “When was this?”
“It was back in the eighties, when the AIDS epidemic was rampant. Not that it isn’t now.”
“Sounds like a good man. I’d like to meet him.” Dr. Caldwell steepled his fingers, placed his lips against them and considered Nate. “Do you mind my asking why you aren’t going back to Chicago and working with Dr. Klein? I’m sure he wants you.”
“He does. Desperately, in fact.
“I’ll be frank if I may. I have an offer from Dr. Klein. But working in Chicago or at any big-name hospital, where I’m just another rat in the pack, isn’t what I want anymore. I want to go back to Arizona and work on the reservations out there. There’s an incredible need and I believe I can fill it. But to do that, I need the experience with cold laser beam surgeries.”
“And that’s why you need me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So, you’re going to hold me to that one-year contract.”
“That’s my intention, yes. Barring anything unforeseen.”
Dr. Caldwell leaned forward. “I know your family fairly well. Your mother is still active with the hospital foundation. There are no health issues with either of your parents?”
Nate smiled broadly. “No, no. Mother and Dad are just fine. As are my brothers.”
“Well, my team would very much like having you on staff. Now, I’d like to show you our electrophysiology lab. It’s quite something. We have fourteen different computer screens on which the team watches an in-progress ablation. We have two new ORs for open-heart and bypass surgeries. We’re performing a half-dozen pacemaker and defibrillator implants a day. We would do more, but we’re taking on the more difficult hypertrophic cardiomyopathy cases. Those surgeries last about four hours each, as you know.”
“I do. Makes for a long day,” Nate commented as he rose and followed Dr. Caldwell out to the newly carpeted corridor that led to the surgical area.
“I guess I’d better tell you now, Nate, this hospital pulls from an eight-county area, and it’s my goal to really put this cardiac center on the map. I want the best on my team, and so far I’ve been able to get them. South Bend has the orthopedic business socked. But this hospital has been shooting for awards in the cardiac field for twenty years. In the past six years or so, we’ve made some real headway. I want to be the best of the best. I sense a competitiveness about you as well. My conjecture is that you have the makings of an exceptional surgeon.”
“I’m flattered you consider me that good.”
“You aren’t yet, but you will be. You’re a man of single focus, and that’s what I need. This job will be a lot of hard work.”
Nate smiled as they approached the elevator and Dr. Caldwell pressed the up button. “I like challenges,” Nate said firmly and sincerely. “They make for the sweetest victories.”
MRS. BEABOTS SMOOTHED the skirt of her black silk dress with the red-rosebud print and white starched collar that she loved so much. It was the last dress her husband had bought for her before he died, and therefore, it carried great sentimentality for her. It was important for her to wear something special today. Despite it being Valentine’s Day, today was a most remarkable day in her life and that of Sarah’s as well. Mrs. Beabots was here at Bride’s Corner to give her opinion and advice about this most auspicious of all dresses a woman would ever wear—her wedding gown.
She was honored that Sarah had sought her counsel, but she had also told Sarah she would tell the unvarnished truth. “You look like a strumpet,” Mrs. Beabots said evenly. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just not what I pictured you would want.”
“Come on. This is a designer dress. It was featured in two of the fourteen bridal magazines I bought. I thought it was...” Sarah looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. “I thought it was sophisticated and the clean lines made me look a bit taller. Thinner.”
“Stay away from Maddie’s cupcakes and you won’t need to worry about your waistline,” Mrs. Beabots said with a smile on her face that nearly dripped honey. She knew exactly how to deliver the truth when the truth was not exactly what was expected. She swept her eyes over the yards of white peau de soie that were tucked and wrapped around Sarah’s perfect figure. The dress was strapless, in the mermaid style, which was all the rage, Mrs. Beabots had been told. A bolero jacket covered Sarah’s bare shoulders with dozens of lace and silk flowers around the collar and bottom of the jacket. At the lower hips, the tightly wound section ended, and the skirt flared out into a long fantail of peau de soie. It was sophisticated. It was extraordinarily elegant. But it wasn’t Sarah.
Maddie sat next to Mrs. Beabots on the faded gold brocade settee that faced the large front window in the store. On either side of the window, angling in toward the room were enormous cheval mirrors.
Sarah looked at Maddie. “What do you think?”
“It’s too low-cut for St. Mark’s, that’s for sure.” She tilted her head to the right and then the left. “It’s a beautiful gown, but I always thought of you in something wistful and dreamy, with a train of little boys in white satin knee pants
