Chapter Thirty Marion
thirty MARION
Marion hadn’t heard from Paul in over a week. He had promised to contact her as soon as he heard anything about the Red Cross, but the anticipation was killing her. She called him four times, but he never picked up the phone. At one point, she considered going to his house.
The next day, the phone rang.
“Marion, it’s Paul. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I found a way for you to get to Vietnam, if your heart’s still set on it.”
She felt the earth move beneath her. “Of course it is.”
“Willard was set to go, but he broke his leg skiing. He agrees with me that you’re crazy, but I told him that if you had your mind set on being a VPVN, he wasn’t going to be able to talk you out of it. So he spoke with the CRC about you. Since you haven’t gotten blood on your hands in a while, he told them you are basically a very advanced surgical student. Apparently, they’re so desperate for doctors, they agreed.” He waited. “Marion? You still there?”
“I… I am.”
“I have all the information here for you, but there’s one issue that could mess things up. Obviously, it’s not safe for a woman to travel alone to Vietnam then work in a combat zone. Especially a civilian like you, who basically has no idea how to take care of herself.”
“Hey!”
“So the Red Cross is trying to find someone to go with you. Basically, a bodyguard. They are speaking with some of their volunteers this week about it. Trouble is, that person will have to pay their own way.”
Daniel’s words flashed in her mind. If you change your mind about going, I’d be the best security guard you could imagine . She almost laughed. If only she knew where he was.
“They will find someone,” she said, positive. Everything about this trip felt so right. There was no way any of it could go wrong.
“I gotta say, Marion, I really am impressed. These are not the actions of the woman I took to dinner months ago.”
That made her smile. “I certainly hope not. All right, Paul. Tell me what I need to know. I have paper and a pen.”
Marion’s hand was damp as she wrote down all the information. She hoped she could read her writing later.
“Paul, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Thank me when you come back alive, all right? I’ll even let you buy dinner this time.”
She hung up then looked in the mirror. “Guess what, Dr. Hart?” she said, unsure whether to laugh or cry. “I hope you remember how to stitch up a body, because you’re going to Vietnam.”