18. Joel
18
JOEL
The car door creaks open, slow and deliberate, and for a moment, nothing happens. My pulse thrums in my ears as I take another step forward, the chill of the night air biting through my shirt. Then, Rivkin emerges, stumbling slightly as his foot hits the ground.
“Dr. Rivkin,” I say, keeping my voice calm but firm. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes are bloodshot, and the faint stench of alcohol wafts over as he straightens. Or at least tries to. He’s a mess, swaying on his feet, his tie loose and askew. “What am I doing here?” he slurs, his voice loud enough to echo down the quiet street. “I could ask you the same damn thing, Anderson. Acting like you’re so perfect, so holier-than-thou.”
“You’re drunk,” I state, my tone flat. “You shouldn’t be driving. Give me your keys.”
He laughs, a sharp, bitter sound that makes my jaw clench. “Oh, now you’re my babysitter, too? How noble of you.”
Behind me, the faint sound of the front door opening catches my attention. I glance back and spot Lucy peeking out from the doorway, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She’s watching, her eyes wide with worry, and I know exactly what she’s thinking.
“Lucy, go inside,” I call over my shoulder, keeping my eyes on Rivkin. She hesitates but steps back inside. I’ll deal with her worry later. Right now, I need to de-escalate this situation.
“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” Rivkin continues, jabbing a finger in my direction. “Just because you’ve got your perfect little life. Your perfect little…” He hiccups, losing his balance for a moment.
“You’re going to hurt someone,” I interrupt, stepping closer. “Hand over your keys, and we’ll call you a ride home.”
He sneers. “You think I’m scared of you? That you can just take everything from me and I’ll…”
The sound of sirens cuts through the air, growing louder with every passing second. Rivkin’s head jerks up, his expression shifting from defiance to confusion. He looks past me toward the house, realization dawning too late.
Lucy called the cops.
Good.
I stay where I am, watching as two patrol cars pull up to the curb. The officers step out, their movements measured but purposeful. One of them approaches me while the other heads toward Rivkin.
“Evening, sir,” the officer says, his eyes flicking between me and the other man. “We got a call about a potential DUI. What’s going on here?”
“Dr. Rivkin here has been drinking and driving,” I say, keeping my tone steady. “He’s clearly intoxicated and refused to hand over his keys.”
The officer nods, turning to Rivkin. “Sir, I’m going to need you to step away from the vehicle.”
Rivkin’s bravado dissolves into a mix of panic and indignation. “This is ridiculous,” he sputters. “Do you know who I am?”
“I do,” the officer replies coolly. “And I’m going to need you to cooperate.”
What follows is an embarrassing spectacle as Rivkin tries to argue his way out of it, only to fail miserably. The breathalyzer confirms what we already knew; he’s well over the legal limit. Within minutes, he’s cuffed and placed in the back of the patrol car, his protests falling on deaf ears.
As the officers finish up, one of them approaches me again. “We’ll be taking him to the station. You’ll likely need to make a statement tomorrow.”
“Understood,” I say, glancing toward the house. Lucy’s silhouette is visible through the curtains, and I know she’s been watching everything.
Once the police leave, the street falls quiet again. I take a deep breath, the tension in my chest finally easing.
The next morning, I’m summoned to an emergency meeting with the hospital’s board of directors. The email is curt, offering no details beyond the time and location. I know exactly what it’s about.
When I arrive at the boardroom, the atmosphere is tense. The members are seated around the large table, their expressions ranging from grim to indifferent. Dr. Harris, the chairperson, gestures for me to take a seat.
“Dr. Anderson,” he begins, folding his hands in front of him. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“Of course,” I reply, keeping my tone neutral. “What’s this about?”
Dr. Harris exchanges a glance with the other members before speaking again. “As you’re aware, there was an incident involving Dr. Rivkin last night. We’ve reviewed the reports and spoken with the authorities. Given the severity of his actions, the board has decided to suspend Dr. Rivkin until further notice.”
Unsurprised, I say, “That’s understandable.”
“There’s more,” Harris continues, his gaze steady. “The board has also decided to complete the evaluation of candidates and finalize the replacement for the position of chief of staff. After careful consideration, we believe it’s in the hospital’s best interest to offer the position to you.”
The words hit me like a freight train. For a moment, I’m stunned into silence.
“I appreciate the offer,” I say carefully, “but I’d like to understand why the board feels this is the right decision.”
Harris leans back in his chair. “Dr. Rivkin has proven himself unreliable and unfit to lead and the other candidates were not up to the standards we are looking for. The hospital needs stability, and you’ve demonstrated time and again that you’re capable of providing that. Your track record speaks for itself.”
“This isn’t just about Rivkin’s behavior,” another board member adds. “We’ve been impressed with your leadership, your ability to remain calm under pressure, and your dedication to the hospital and its staff. We believe you’re the right person to take us forward.”
I glance around the table, taking in their expressions. They’re serious. This isn’t just a knee-jerk reaction to last night’s events. They’ve made up their minds.
“Thank you for your confidence in me,” I say finally. “I’ll need some time to consider the offer, but I’m honored by your trust.”
Harris nods. “Take the weekend to think it over. We’ll reconvene on Monday for your decision.”
As I leave the boardroom, a mix of emotions churns within me. This is an opportunity I’ve worked toward for years, but the circumstances are far from ideal. Taking the position would mean stepping into a role overshadowed by Rivkin’s downfall. It would mean more responsibility, more pressure. But it would also mean change. For the hospital, for my career, and for my family.
When I step outside, the crisp air feels like a wake-up call. Lucy’s waiting for me by the car, her eyes scanning my face as I approach.
“How did it go?” she asks, concern lacing her voice.
I let out a long breath. “They suspended Rivkin. And they offered me the chief of staff position.”
Her eyes widen. “Joel, that’s huge! Are you going to take it?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s a lot to think about.”
The weekend stretches ahead of me like an open road, full of possibilities but also uncertainty. The kids are up early Saturday morning, their laughter echoing through the house as Lucy flips pancakes in the kitchen. The aroma of fresh coffee mingles with the sound of sizzling batter, and for a moment, I let myself be absorbed into the scene.
Lucy is effortlessly at ease, wearing an old T-shirt of mine that’s a little too big for her. She’s helping Finn pour syrup while Miles chatters away about playing basketball at a friend’s house. Watching them, I’m struck by how natural it all feels.
“Daddy, are we going to the park today?” Finn asks, his blue eyes wide with excitement.
Lucy glances over her shoulder at me, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I told them we might take them out to the lake. Unless you’re too busy ruminating about your big decision.”
I chuckle, ruffling Finn’s hair as I grab my coffee mug. “The lake sounds perfect. Let’s make a day of it.”
We pack up a picnic, toss a couple of fishing rods into the car, and head out to the lake. The drive is filled with laughter and the occasional bickering between the boys, and by the time we arrive, I feel some of the tension in my chest begin to loosen.
The day is everything I didn’t know I needed. We fish, although Miles is far more interested in tossing rocks into the water than actually catching anything. Finn, on the other hand, takes it seriously, holding his rod with an intensity that makes Lucy and me exchange amused glances.
By late afternoon, we’re sprawled out on a blanket near the shore, the boys building elaborate sandcastles out of dirt and water from a pail while Lucy rests her head on my shoulder. The sun glints off the water, and for the first time in what feels like forever, my mind isn’t racing.
“You’re thinking about it again,” Lucy says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.
I glance down at her, caught. “Maybe a little.”
She smiles, her fingers lacing through mine. “Whatever you decide, Joel, it’s the right choice. You’ll make it work. You always do.”
Her faith in me is humbling, grounding. I press a kiss to her forehead, letting her words settle deep.
By Sunday night, I know what I’m going to do. The decision isn’t easy, but it’s clear. This is my chance to make a difference, to shape the hospital’s future in a way the previous chief never did. It’s a lot of responsibility, but I’m ready.
Monday morning, I’m back in the boardroom. The members are waiting, their expressions expectant. Dr. Harris speaks first. “Dr. Anderson, have you reached a decision?”
I take a deep breath, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “Yes. I’ll take the position.”
The room is quiet for a beat, then Harris smiles, standing to shake my hand. “Congratulations, Chief Anderson. We’re lucky to have you.”