A FEW DAYS AFTER Joy learned that there was a doctor at Good Samaritan Hospital who shared her name, Dr. Braden confirmed Ginny’s comments about Dr. Montrose. Joy had gone down to the pediatric floor to study some of the children, searching for her Jarius’s daughter. As she came out of the elevator, she encountered Dr. Braden. After an exchange of greetings, questions about the progress of the mural and about Joy’s reason for coming to Dr. Braden’s department, Joy asked her about Dr. Montrose.
“Gayle? She’s wonderful. I’ve never seen a more devoted resident. She has no sense of time. Stays working until all hours. Goes the extra mile constantly for her patients.” Dr. Braden halted, bit her lower lip as if considering whether to say more. “The only fault I find with her is that she absolutely refuses to acknowledge that anyone could die. Her patients must recover. A doctor eventually has to learn that in spite of all we can do, patients do die. Even children. And that of course is the hardest lesson of all, one Dr. Montrose has yet to accept.”
Just then Dr. Braden looked past Joy and smiled, saying, “Here she comes now. I’ll introduce you.”
Joy turned in time to see a tall, willowy young woman walking toward them, wearing a long white lab coat. The fact that she was an African-American struck Joy only after her first impression of breathtaking beauty. Her skin was the color of creamed coffee, her black hair worn severely pulled back into a knot at the nape of a graceful neck. She had wide, dark eyes, a nose with slightly flared nostrils, and a full, curved mouth. She certainly fit Ginny’s description. Dr. Montrose was striking in appearance.
When Jean introduced them, Joy thought she saw something curious flicker in Dr. Montrose’s eyes. However, the woman paid close attention to Dr. Braden’s explanation of why Joy was on their floor.
“Could you show Joy around?” Dr. Braden asked her. “Maybe even suggest a child for the panel she has in mind?”
Joy noticed a slight hesitation. Then Dr. Montrose said, “I’m just going off duty, Dr. Braden. Would tomorrow be all right?” She glanced at Joy.
“Of course. Any time that’s suitable for you, Doctor,” Joy said quickly.
“Fine. If you’ll come down around ten tomorrow morning, I’ll have made my rounds and then I’ll be free.”
Back on fourth Joy sought out Ginny and asked her to go to the cafeteria for coffee. As soon as they were seated, Joy asked, “Why didn’t you tell me Dr. Montrose was black?”
“Why, would it have made a difference?” Ginny’s lovely hazel eyes narrowed.
“No, I was just surprised. I guess I thought that with our having the same last name, she might be a long-lost relative. You see, I don’t know anything about my relatives—at least my father’s relatives.”
Ginny’s cup raised to her lips, halted. “Why not? Are you adopted?”
“No, but I never knew my father. He died before I was born. He was a navy helicopter pilot and was killed in Vietnam. He and my mother met in San Diego when he was in training. They married there and then he went overseas. My mother was only a few months pregnant with me.”
“Sorry. That must have been rough.”
“Yes, on my mother of course. But she remarried when I was three, and we moved to Ohio. All I knew of my father was a photograph of him in his uniform. When my mother died when I was eleven, I found it among her things. I don’t remember my mother talking about him. I guess she wanted me to think of Steve as my dad.”
“And did you?”
Joy shook her head. “Not really. He was gone a lot, traveling in his work. Then after Mom died, I lived with some of his relatives for a while, then was sent to live with Molly Ellis, a distant cousin of my mother’s. When my stepdad remarried, he just sort of dropped out of my life. Maybe it was my fault. I was a self-centered teenager—” Joy shrugged.
“I’ve got so many relations, I’ve lost count!” Ginny laughed. “So don’t feel too bad, Joy. There’s something to be said for being an orphan. Nobody to tell you what to do or what not to do, nobody to give you unsolicited advice or unwanted criticism. Most of my kin think I’ve gone wildly astray and don’t mince words telling me so.”
“It’s funny, but hearing her name over the pager, then meeting her, made me realize how much I really have missed, not having a family. Maybe we do have some connection. I don’t know, but I’d like to find out.”
“Why don’t you make a date to have lunch with her?” Ginny suggested. “Ask her about her family?”
“Dr. Braden asked her if she would escort me around pediatrics tomorrow. Maybe after that we could go have lunch or at least coffee.”
“Good idea. But be careful. I believe she’s a private sort of person. She might not appreciate you quizzing her,” Ginny warned.
“Oh, I won’t. I’ll just tell her about me. I liked her. I’d like to get to know her.”
Joy went back to work and worked steadily for most of the next two hours. All at once she felt very hungry and realized she hadn’t taken time for lunch. When she stood up, she felt woozy and knew she had better eat something.
She took the elevator down to the lobby and found a vending machine. She pushed in her change, and a candy bar tumbled down into the little metal retainer. Then she got a soda from the soft drink dispenser next to it.
She had just unwrapped her candy bar and taken a bite with a sip of her cola when a stern voice behind her asked, “You know that stuff will kill you, don’t you?”
Nearly choking, she whirled around. Dr. Wallace stood there, hands on his hips, glaring at her. He pointed to her candy bar and the soda can she was holding and shook his head. “That stuff knocks off laboratory rats by the dozens. You should take better care of your health.”
Joy saw a twinkle in his eyes and a hint of a smile. She put on a hangdog look. “Caught in the act! I plead guilty. But there was no yogurt or granola in the vending machines. Maybe I should put in a demand for healthier snacks. Or is there such a thing as a suggestion box here?”
“I don’t know. I’ll bring it up at the next staff meeting,” he promised. He remained there for a minute as though he wanted to say something else. “How’s the mural coming along?”
“Well, I’m only doing the undercoating so far. But I think it will be fine—I hope so.”
“Good.” With a brisk nod he turned and headed for the elevator.
Joy looked after him. Those were the first words she’d exchanged with Dr. Wallace since she’d begun work at the hospital. She had seen him once or twice, striding purposefully from the O.R. or toward recovery, looking straight ahead. She had rather hoped to continue avoiding him, feeling that maybe he resented her because over his objections her theme had been approved for the mural.
However, he hadn’t seemed that hostile or formidable just now. Joy recalled Ginny’s reminder that appearances can be deceiving. Maybe she had been wrong about Dr. Wallace as well.
Joy’s first two weeks at Good Samaritan had certainly been full of interesting meetings, unexpected encounters, and strange coincidences.