Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“I like good strong words that mean something…” ~Louisa May Alcott , Little Women
“ D r. Nat!” Sally squealed, bounding toward Nat, her cherub cheeks flushed with pink.
Nat bent down to accept the little girl’s hug. “Sally, so nice to see you.”
The four-year-old wasn’t Nat’s patient for today. Her grandmother was, but Sally must have come along for the appointment. Mrs. Greene, Sally’s grandmother, would be Nat’s second-to-last patient of the day before heading to Mom and Dad’s to pitch them on her idea of expanding their clinic to offer mental health services and her application for the Clark Foundation Grant to support it. She vibrated with nervous and excited energy.
After this hurdle, the next one she’d jump would be done hand-in-hand with Noah as they told their families they were a couple. Of course, the queasy sensation in her stomach wasn’t about telling their parents. She already knew her dad was on board, and she was almost certain her mom and Noah’s parents would be thrilled. But Clayton remained an unknown. For a woman of science, that was the scariest concept.
At least Elle would be there on Sunday. There was a strong probability she’d prove an ally. Elle may be marrying Clayton, but the girl code ran deep in her soon-to-be sister-in-law.
Nat released Sally and stepped back. “It was so sweet of you to come with your grandma to her doctor’s visit.”
“She’s a good girl.” Mrs. Greene patted Sally’s head.
“You have your fun doctor shoes on today.” Sally pointed down to Nat’s ruby-red ballet flats.
“Thank you for noticing.” She preened just enough to make RuPaul proud. “Look at your cute shoes.” Nat motioned to Sally’s pair of gold butterfly-encrusted flats.
She beamed. “Grandma got them for me. They’re my doctor shoes.”
“Yep. My Sally wants to be a doctor just like you, Dr. Owens. She’s gone on and on about you. She wants to help people and wear cute shoes when she grows up. Just like you.” Mrs. Green’s dark brown eyes sparkled as she looked between her granddaughter and Nat.
Pride lifted Nat’s lips into a giant grin, and her heart squeezed with affection. Unwrapping her stethoscope from her neck, she held it up. “Maybe we should start your doctor training now. You have the cute shoes, after all. Do you want to learn how to use this? We can listen to your grandma’s heart.”
Sally’s face lit like a lamp as she reached for the stethoscope. “Oh! Mommy says Grandma has an extra big heart.”
“Those are the rarest of hearts, so it’s good we’re practicing on her.” Nat winked.
“Mommy said you have a big heart too! Can I practice on you too?”
“Of course.” That extra big heart squeezed tighter with joy.
After Sally and Mrs. Greene left, Nat stood behind the reception desk, reviewing her orders for the day on her tablet. Once signed, they went directly into the patient’s chart and automatically to the nurse to call in any prescription, lab tests, or consultation orders. With Elle’s guidance, and Nat’s pushing, they’d implemented the automated system in July. It streamlined things for both the staff and patients.
“Oh, Dr. Owens, there you are,” LeAnne said, walking past Nat.
Nat looked up seeing her dad leaning on the front of the reception counter, face wrinkled as he looked at his tablet. LeAnne shuffled up to the counter, plopping a clipboard in front of him. The medical assistant had worked at the clinic since before Nat was born. Despite most of the staff loving the tablet, LeAnne had clung to her clipboard. She would use the tablet and the computer, but after writing everything by hand first. Nat had even seen LeAnne write text messages on Post Its and then type them into her phone.
“What can I do for you, LeAnne?” Dad said, lifting his head to face her.
LeAnne yanked a pen from behind her ear and used it to point to the sheet of paper on the clipboard. “I’m getting the list of supplies for our upcoming flu vaccine campaign. I wanted you to go over it before I gave it to Mrs. Owens to order.”
Dad’s brows knitted as he glanced at the list. “Did you have Dr. Owens look at this?” he asked, head cocked to the right.
LeAnne rubbed the back of her gray-dusted black hair. “You’re Dr. Owens.”
He stretched out a long arm pointing at Nat. “The other Dr. Owens. She’s overseeing our Flu Vaccine campaign this year.”
With an embarrassed chuckle, LeAnne pivoted to face Nat. “Sorry, Nat! I forgot you were running it this year.”
“It’s okay, LeAnne,” she assured, moving to the counter to take the clipboard.
“Nat, let me know if this is good, and I’ll have Mrs. Owens put in the order.”
Nat reviewed the list.
“LeAnne.” Dad cleared his throat. “How come you call me Dr. Owens and call her Nat? We’re both Dr. Owens.”
Nat’s head jerked at the firmness in Dad’s voice. Not since she was seventeen and Dad caught her sneaking in thirty minutes after curfew had she heard that sternness in his tone. Dad’s voice always dripped with soft-spoken sweetness.
“But she’s always been Nat.” LeAnne tilted her head, her face scrunched.
“True, but that was when she was our daughter. She’s now our colleague. I’d like it if you’d call her Dr. Owens, or if you’d like to keep calling her Nat, then please call me Chris.” Warmth radiated in his eyes.
“Of course…” LeAnne paused, looking between Nat and him. “…Chris.” A hesitant smile bloomed. “I like calling her Nat, so I think I’d like to call you Chris. Makes me feel like we’re all on equal footing.”
“Thank you, LeAnne.” He grinned, adjusting his yellow bow tie dotted with mini blue bow ties.
“Although, Chris…” She placed her hands on her ample hips. “…I have to say, Nat and you aren’t equals.” An emboldened sassiness seemed to have taken over her.
“Excuse me?” His lips pursed.
“She’s a way better dresser than you.” She pointed to Nat’s shoes. “To quote my grandson, those shoes are on fleek, queen!”
Nat snorted and then curtsied.
Dad’s brow wrinkled. “I like my bow ties, and so does Mrs. Owens. She says they’re dapper.”
“It’s not the 1930s…you want to be on point or hot, not dapper,” LeAnne teased, waggling her eyebrows. “Speaking of Mrs. Owens, should I call her Heidi?”
He gnawed on the corner of his lip. “Probably best we all still call her Mrs. Owens. We all may be equal, but let us not forget who the boss is.”
LeAnne playfully wagged her finger at him. “I bet you call her Mrs. Owens even at home, don’t you?”
A soft blush kissed his cheeks. “Maybe.”
“If my husband had called me Mrs. Samuels, I may not have divorced him,” LeAnne sassed, turning to Nat. “Let me know about the list. I’m going to go restock the exam rooms before I leave.”
As LeAnne disappeared through the red door, Nat slipped through the half door between the hall and the reception desk. She walked up to her dad, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”
Nat’s heart had squeezed for the third time today at Dad’s interaction with LeAnne. It was such a tiny thing, but the big things always were. She’d not asked him to do this. She’d not even complained to him about the staff calling her Nat and him Dr. Owens. It meant that he’d seen it too and fixed it in a very Dad way.
“I know I said it would take time and to be patient. I said that as your colleague. As your father, I lost my patience and did that.” He draped his arm around her. “It’s a bit of a tightrope we walk working together. I’ll try to remember I am your colleague here, but it’s hard when I am your father everywhere else.”
She leaned into him. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, Dr. Owens.”
The happiness in her heart bloomed like a garden of sunflowers in the sunshine of his love and respect. They both may be Dr. Owens, but they were also father and daughter.
Perhaps, that was the most important role of all.