Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“Don’t panic,” Jasmine mumbled to herself as she peered at her phone and walked briskly toward the community room, where thirty-three students and their parents patiently—or impatiently—waited.
The New Year, Healthy Youth workshop for tweens should have started fifteen minutes ago, except Dr. Park, who was supposed to come in on her day off to lead the event, had not yet arrived. Jasmine couldn’t reach her, and the doctor hadn’t reached out, either.
Everything is fine, she told herself, trying to stay positive.
She had put out the snacks, which seemed to have temporarily distracted the attendees, but baby carrots, granola bars, clementines, and cucumber-lemon-infused water could only go so far. Pretty soon the kids and their parents would become restless and agitated.
The hum of conversation spilled from the open door as she approached, but one of the parents stepped out aggressively and blocked her from entering.
A man of average height, he rested his hands on his hips and furrowed his bushy eyebrows.
“Excuse me, but when exactly are we going to get started? It’s...
” He checked his watch. “It’s three forty-six.
The flyer said the workshop starts at three-thirty. ”
“You’re right. We’re running a little behind, but we’ll soon—”
“A little behind? When exactly do you plan to start?” he asked.
“Very soon. Excuse me one second. I need to take this call.” Jasmine put her phone to her ear even though no one was calling. “Hello?”
She rushed away, and when she had turned the corner and was out of sight, she stopped and hit redial, trying Dr. Park for the third time. Like before, the phone rang a few times and went straight to voicemail.
“Hi, Dr. Park, this is Jasmine again,” she said in a low voice.
“The workshop should have started fifteen minutes ago, but obviously we can’t start without you here.
If you could give me a call, let me know where you are and how much longer you’ll be, I could stall our guests.
Please, call me. Right away. Thank you.”
She hung up, closed her eyes, and let her head fall back as she took a deep breath. This workshop was her bright idea, which she had pitched to her father as a way to give back to the community and build awareness of their practice. She had envisioned rotating doctors.
Dr. Park would concentrate on nutrition and exercise.
Later this year, her father’s workshop was geared toward parents, taking place in the early evening.
They were still working on the curriculum, but he planned to counsel the adults on chronic conditions like diabetes and asthma in their children.
With Maxwell here, she could add a third workshop once she found out what he was interested in.
Of course, there might not be any more workshops if this one flopped. Right now they looked disorganized, which could hurt their reputation, and it would be all her fault because she didn’t have a backup plan. She, a perfectionist, hadn’t considered that the main speaker could be MIA.
“Jasmine?”
Her eyes flew open. Maxwell was standing before her in his white coat, an expression of concern on his face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead.
“Well... Dr. Park is supposed to be speaking during our New Year, Healthy Youth program, and she’s either running late or dead.
I don’t know which since I can’t reach her.
And of course one of the parents is already upset, and he seems like the kind of person who would go back in the room and rile up the other parents.
It’s fine, though. I’ve got everything under control. ”
Maxwell looked skeptical. “What exactly is your plan?”
She couldn’t tell if he was being condescending or not, so she answered truthfully.
“I’m going to improvise. We have charts in the supply closet about eating right and exercise.
I could possibly rustle up a few more ideas by going through the materials in Dr. Park’s office.
I’m pretty sure I could do the presentation myself.
I thought about asking Renee, but it wouldn’t be fair to ask her last minute, and she doesn’t like public speaking anyway. ”
The other medical assistant had taken the afternoon off. Jasmine couldn’t even ask her father to fill in because he was at a conference.
“In the meantime, while you’re looking for materials for the presentation, the clock is ticking and our guests are becoming more restless and agitated,” Maxwell said pointedly.
“I don’t have a choice.”
“I could give the workshop.” Maxwell spoke in a matter-of-fact voice.
“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He hadn’t been at the practice long enough. He was too green.
“You’re not asking. I’m offering, and I want to. Either you let me do it, or you get in front of an upset group that has been waiting for more than fifteen minutes at this point.”
She should say no, but she’d built this whole event herself. It was her idea, her budget line item. The noise from the community room was getting louder, and since Dr. Park hadn’t called back yet, she was practically out of options. Soon, people would start leaving.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Positive. I’m not taking patients yet, so I have time. Put me in, Coach,” Maxwell joked.
Jasmine wanted to appreciate his sense of humor but was too nervous. “What are you going to talk about?”
“I saw the flyers and know the gist. If you could rustle up those materials you mentioned, I’ll figure out how to incorporate them into the presentation.”
Jasmine remained worried but was breathing easier. “Deal.”
As Maxwell headed toward the community room, she hustled toward the other side of the building.
Handouts for the parents were already on a table in the room, so she used her keys to open Dr. Park’s office and looked through her laminated visual aids, pulling out items she thought Maxwell could use.
In the supply closet, she dropped the items on a small cart and added a tabletop anatomical model with removable organs that could work for the nutrition talk.
With a quick search of the shelves, she found a stethoscope, a reflex hammer, and other items that she also added to the cart.
Wiping nervous sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, she pushed the cart down the hall. On the way, she saw Renee, who stopped her.
“Where’s Dr. Park?” the medical assistant asked in a worried whisper.
“I don’t know. Dr. Santana’s taking over the workshop.”
Jasmine continued to the community room. Most everyone was seated in the chairs arranged theater style, with a few adults standing at the back munching on the snacks she had provided.
“The good stuff has arrived,” Maxwell said, looking pleased to see her. “Everyone give Ms. Roberson a round of applause.”
As the room clapped, slightly embarrassed, Jasmine curtsied.
Maxwell took over the cart, casting a quick glance at everything she had brought.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” she whispered so no one else could hear.
He nodded and wheeled the supplies to the front of the room.
Jasmine hung near the door with her phone still in hand and her stomach in knots. She had no idea what Maxwell had been doing the past ten minutes, but she half expected him to blow it.
She watched him crouch in front of a little girl with beads at the end of her braids. She looked to be about ten years old.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Aaliyah,” the girl answered, her voice barely audible.
“Aaliyah, I need an assistant. Are you interested?”
“What do I have to do?” she asked, sounding suspicious. Typical tween.
“Help me check heart rates, hand out papers, and other very important stuff. Pays in high fives.”
She grinned. “Okay, I’ll help you.”
“Perfect!” Maxwell hopped to his feet. “Okay, as I was saying before Ms. Roberson arrived, cardio exercise is not only great for weight loss, it also gets the heart pumping, which increases oxygen delivery to the cells.” He walked back and forth as he talked, his voice loud and energetic.
“Examples of cardio are brisk walking and running. How many of you have bikes?” A third of the kids raised their hands.
“Riding your bike around the neighborhood is cardio. Did you know that was exercise?”
Some of them nodded, some shook their heads.
“Well, it is. Exercise can be fun. Know what else is exercise and good for you? Swimming, dancing, and jumping jacks. All of those are cardio. Now, I’m going to do thirty seconds of jumping jacks, and my assistant Aaliyah will time me. I hope I remember how to do them.”
After handing Aaliyah his watch and showing her how to use the built-in timer, Maxwell began the exercise.
He intentionally did badly, flailing and moving off-rhythm, making the room erupt in laughter.
Even the irritated father from earlier, who was standing at the back of the room, was smiling.
Jasmine smiled, too, as she watched him.
Finally, Maxwell got the exercise right and did jumping jacks for thirty seconds while Aaliyah kept her eyes on the watch in her hand. When she called time, he said, “Thank you, ma’am,” and held up his hand. She gave him an enthusiastic high-five.
“My heart is really going right now. Now it’s your turn. Everybody, on your feet. Come on. You too,” Maxwell said, pointing at a reluctant boy. “Jumping jacks for thirty seconds. Let’s get those hearts pumping and sending oxygen to our cells!”
Chaos and giggles erupted as thirty-three kids, ranging in age from nine to twelve, jumped around the community room. As they jumped, he slipped in content about the importance of their heart rate going up.
When they finished, he yelled, “One more time!”
Groaning and giggling filled the room, but the kids started again. This time, Maxwell circled the perimeter and counted down the last five seconds like a game show host.
The workshop continued in the same vein. Maxwell used two more kids as volunteers as he pulled the room into physical activity—some of the parents joining in—while explaining the importance of regular exercise. He did all this without sounding as if he was lecturing them.
He talked about nutrition, pointing out the healthy snacks and asking the kids about other examples of healthy snacks they could incorporate into their diets.
At one point he caught Jasmine’s eye across the room, and her chest tightened. She realized she had stopped checking her phone and had completely forgotten about the fiasco that could have unraveled all her hard work.
When the phone vibrated in her hand, she stepped out of the room. It was Dr. Park.
“Jasmine, I’m so sorry! I had my phone on Do Not Disturb because I was working on an article earlier.
I forgot to turn it off when I left the house, and I’m stuck on 285.
An 18-wheeler overturned and spilled building supplies across multiple lanes.
It’s a mess, and there’s no way to get off the highway and—”
“It’s okay.” Jasmine cut off the rush of words. “We’re fine.” She looked back into the room. Maxwell’s volunteers were circulating with laminated sheets showing examples of the main food groups. “When you have a chance, head home. Dr. Santana took over the workshop and is doing a good job.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Dr. Park said with immense relief. “I promise I’ll make it up to you—both of you. Please let Dr. Santana know how much I appreciate him filling in for me.”
“I will,” Jasmine promised.
She stepped back into the room. Her presence wasn’t needed during the workshop. She had work to do, and Maxwell clearly had everything under control. He was... impressive, she had to admit. Engaging, funny, and knowledgeable. He didn’t seem to be pretending. She suspected he was enjoying himself.
His performance was on another level, and now she understood why her father had insisted he’d have a good bedside manner with their patients.
So she stayed. Watching. Though she didn’t need to.