Authors: Sally John
Volunteering at the Hector Navarro Clinic began as a way to assuage guilt. Andie’s question raised it onto a different level altogether.
Jo twisted around in her seat and looked at Andie. “Yes, this is exactly what I want. Shall we go inside?”
As they crossed the street to the clinic, Andie looped her arm into the crook of Jo’s elbow. The sight of those hoodlums down at the corner nibbled at her newfound sense of adventure. Boogie boarding was one thing. Boys up to no good were quite another.
With a conscious effort to ignore them, she turned to her friend. “Saint Josephine.”
“Andie, don’t.”
“It’s true. I mean, I always thought you were a saint anyway because you’re a doctor, but volunteering in a place like this cinches it.”
“Actually my wildest dream is to use that vacant space there to the left of the clinic and work mainly with women. Speaking of saints.” She leaned around Andie. “Char, hold on to Saint Molly before she heads down there to rescue those guys. I don’t think they’re in the mood.”
Molly grinned. “Just let me go love on them. Love always disarms people.”
Jo shook her head. “Disarms? Think guns, dear. Knives.”
“Surely you exaggerate.”
Andie gaped.“Molly!” she hissed. “Please!”
Char clasped Molly’s shoulder.“Now, don’t you two worry. I’ve got her.”
Andie moved nearer to Jo. “Did you work with Ernie in a clinic like this?” Previously she had avoided mentioning Jo’s old boyfriend, but the uneasy environment dispelled all propriety.
“Yes, this is very similar.”
“Why did you ever stop?”
They stepped up the curb and crossed the sidewalk in a couple strides.
“You mean why did I decide to be a snob instead?” Jo grinned as she pulled open the glass door.
“Jo, I didn’t mean—”
“I know. But it’s the truth. You saw where I live, my office. Look at me.” She gestured toward herself.
Andie admired Jo’s chic appearance yet again. Even in blue jeans and plain white blouse she exuded wealth, but then she always had. Her initial reaction to the beach house as well as to Julian, along with snide comments about various things, indicated she was overly concerned with the material side of life. That she volunteered at the clinic was a delightful surprise. Although she would not have referred to Jo as a snob, Andie never would have guessed at such an altruistic side.
Following Molly and Char through the door, Andie paused in front of Jo. “How did you get here?”
“That sixteen-year-old girl who died on my watch.”
Andie waited for more.
Jo shrugged. “I told you I nearly lost a birthing mother soon after that?”
She nodded.
“I called an AA counselor that night. Four hours later we touched on that one brief period in my life when I felt truly useful, truly happy.” The corners of her mouth turned down in a self-deprecating smile. “It was working with Ernie. But it wasn’t him. It was the people.”
Inside the clinic’s lackluster waiting area, Andie sat in a corner. Her chair resembled ones found in old-fashioned beauty salons. They had curved metal arms and legs, gray vinyl seats and backs. Padding showed through cracks in the vinyl. A slit under her own leg snagged at her slacks when she moved.
Half the seats were occupied with wheezing, hacking, and moaning people, a conglomerate of every age and ethnicity, complete with foreign speech and body odor. They were the ones who had awakened Jo’s altruism.
Beside her, Char said in a low voice,“Our Jo is certainly full of surprises, isn’t she? Who would have imagined!”
Andie smiled. That was Char’s genteel way of expressing her chagrin. Living for a week in a replica of Grandmère Babette’s humble home was acceptable. However, sharing space with the down-and-out offended her sensibilities.
On her other side Molly sat hunched, elbows propped on her knees, face buried in her hands. Andie knew she was not blotting out the scene. In their short time together, she had learned that when Molly went nonverbal on them, she most likely was praying. Either that or her hormones were doing their crazy dance routine.
Maybe Andie should knead Molly’s hands, the next best thing to working on her feet.
Char murmured, “I wonder how long she’ll be?” She leaned forward, eyeing a tattered
People
magazine on a low table before them. “I think I read that last December.” She made no move to pick it up.
Jo had disappeared some time ago behind the reception counter after asking if they minded waiting for her. She wanted to see how things were going.
Molly straightened.“Should we offer to come back and pick her up later?”
“You mean
leave
?” Andie heard her voice go up a notch.
“Yeah. It seems obvious they could use her help right now. We can entertain ourselves for a while.”
Char said, “Andie, do you have the map? I can find our way to that mall we’ve passed a couple of times, where those freeways come together. We can schlep around a bit, find a coffee shop, and then head back here late this afternoon.”
“But you saw the traffic. It’s probably impossible at rush hour!”
“Sugar, I drive on Chicago expressways all times of the day and night. You know what that’s like.”
“Well, I have the map, but we don’t even know where we are.”
“Of course we do. We’re where tourists don’t go.”
Molly chuckled. “Come on, Andie. We’re into adventure here. By definition that’s an unknown outcome.”
She felt a familiar tightness cut into her chest.
Molly went on. “Boogie boarding was an incredible first step for you. Let’s take a second teensy-weensy one together. I know you’re ready.”
Char touched her arm. “As I live and breathe, you are most certainly ready. You don’t see Molly or me out there in the ocean with you, do you? No way. Exploring in the car with us will be a cinch.”
Molly patted her other arm. “You read maps better than I do. We need you, Andie.”
If she mentioned her missing spunk again, Andie would dissolve into tears.
Jo interrupted. “Hey.” She slid onto the low coffee table before them and crossed her legs. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”
Molly said,“No, don’t be. This is your day, and I think this is your place. You must want to spend more time here.” She waved an arm. “My guess is they can use you right now.”
“That’s true. There’s only a physician’s assistant and one nurse on duty. Obviously their hands are full, but I don’t want to sacrifice time with you guys. It always looks like this in here. I’ll be back next week.”
Molly and Char disagreed.
Andie tuned out their quiet debate and realized Molly was gently squeezing her arm. The light pressure conveyed her friend’s concern. She knew that hormonal or not, Molly covered them all in prayer. To see just a short while ago Jo’s first genuine smile since they’d reunited was evidence of God at work. And what else could explain her own courage to dive into the ocean?
How she longed for Molly’s faith! For Jo’s clear focus on what exactly she wanted to do with her time and energy. For Char’s zest concerning every detail of everyday life.
“Hold on.” Jo was turned, looking over her shoulder.
Andie followed her line of sight and saw a pregnant woman sitting off to the side. No, not woman. More girl than woman. A teen. A teen large with child. Tears streamed down her face.
In the blink of an eye Jo was at her side. Andie exchanged glances with Char and Molly. They waited.
Jo touched the girl’s swollen abdomen. Their hushed conversation had a Spanish cadence to it.
As Jo helped her stand, she turned an apologetic expression toward them. “Five minutes.”
Molly gave her a thumbs-up. Char swung her crossed leg faster than ever, mumbling something about car keys.
And Andie began to pray. Not for her own courage, but for the girl’s.
“You! Over there.”
Andie looked along with everyone else in the room at the receptionist. She had poked her head through the open half of the sliding window and was pointing a pen in Andie’s direction.
“The redhead. Doctor wants you back here.”
“Huh?”
“Now!” She slid the window and it shut with a decided click.
Andie stared at Molly.“Huh?”
“Jo wants your magic fingers and calm spirit.” She grinned. “With every pregnancy I so wished for your grandmother’s neck and back massages and mesmerizing voice. Go!”
When she was halfway across the room, Molly called out, “Tell Jo I’m praying.”
Char slid further down into her seat.
With trepidation Andie went through the door leading to the examining rooms. Though she considered herself in the healing business, hers was not mainstream. Most people she met didn’t have a clue what reflexology was all about. She didn’t even have formal training, which really confused some. Grandmère Babette had taught her the subtle blend of science, art, and sheer hard work.
What in the world did Jo need from her?
No nurse, smiling or otherwise, directed her, but the cries of a woman settled the question of which room to enter. Andie opened its door.
Jo stood beside the pregnant teen, who was lying on the examining table. With one hand she held the girl’s wrist and with the other buttoned up a white lab coat. Another woman stood at the far end of the table, slipping a mask up over her mouth and nose.
“Maria, this is my good friend Andie.” Jo’s voice was calm and authoritative as she addressed the young patient. “She’s been through this twice.”
Sixteen years ago!
A twinge of panic squeezed her chest.
“She will help you.” Jo looked at Andie. “No one is here with her. Just hold her hand. Knead her shoulders. Speak peace.” She tilted her head one way, then the other, indicating directions.“Sink. Mask beside it. Gertie, physician’s assistant, who prefers not to do this by herself.”
The silver-haired woman gave a preoccupied half nod.
Andie said,“Not do what…?”
“Baby’s a-comin!” Jo slipped on a pair of latex gloves as she stepped around the table to take Gertie’s place. “So is the ambulance, but my bet’s on baby arriving first. Maria, how are you doing, sweetheart? Breathe like this.” She demonstrated before setting her mask in place.
Andie heard Jo’s words as if from a great distance. Baby? Ambulance? They did not immediately compute. “But this isn’t a hospital.”
“Correct.” Jo glanced at her. Her eyes above the mask reflected Andie’s own fear.
Like a robot, Andie dropped her purse on a chair, stepped to the sink, pushed her sleeves above her elbows, and methodically began to wash.
Jo was afraid. Jo shouldn’t be afraid. She did this for a living! She had been at it for years and years. There were all those photographs on her wall, all those sweet-faced babies.
But they weren’t in a hospital now! There was no
equipment!
What was Andie supposed to do? Molly was the strong, brave one. Molly had been through this four times. Why wasn’t she in here? Molly could—
She turned to Jo and waited for Maria’s cry of pain to lessen again.
“Jo.”
“Hmm?”
“Molly’s praying.”