Chapter 31

Chance

By Friday afternoon, I'm thrilled to say things are looking up. Lucy has finally texted to accept my invitation to dinner, and I can't stop grinning as I thumb the last emoji into my message back—a little chef's kiss because Saturday night is going to be perfect. Griffin swears St. Lawrence is a bastion of Quebecois delights and soft-lit romance, but this date is also going to be about more than just fine dining.

My phone hums with her response, a thumbs up emoji that sets another round of butterflies loose in my stomach. This is it, the perfect setting to repair our rift and then escalate things from casual to…who knows? I'm not sure how I can wait two more days.

My desk phone rings. It's the legal department.

"Chance, you got a minute?" William Long asks when I answer.

I tuck away thoughts of Lucy and focus on the here and now. "Sure, William, what's up?"

"I reviewed the malpractice insurance," he begins, and I can hear the shuffling of papers over the line. "For the doctors volunteering at the safe-use clinics, we're missing a waiver of liability. They need to sign additional paperwork specifically for this work. It will mostly say they're doing this outside the realm of their duties at the hospital, and they're not covered by the hospital's malpractice insurance in that capacity. It's crucial."

"That offers us legal protection?" I probe.

"Exactly." There's the sound of a pen clicking. "Without it, any mishap could fall back on us—on the hospital."

"Got it. I'm sure I can get them to sign something if you can write up what you want," I assure him, mentally rescheduling my afternoon to deal with this new wrinkle. "William, can you meet me at Dr. Johns's office? We need to hash this out with him so he's comfortable. Let's try to get it done today."

There's a pause on the other end. "Actually, I'm due there in fifteen minutes," he replies. "We can talk about it then."

"Perfect," I say. This is my chance to set things right, to bridge a compromise everyone feels good about and make sure good work gets done. I hang up and immediately head to Dr. Johns's office with purpose in my stride.

The walk feels shorter than usual, or maybe it's just my newfound resolve quickening my steps. Everything is coming together . When I arrive, William is waiting, his expression serious but not unkind. We share a nod of mutual understanding; we're in this together now.

"Ready?" I ask.

"Let's do it," he responds, and together, we step into the lion's den, so to speak.

Dr. Johns's secretary gives us a knowing look as we pass her desk. William reaches for the handle before I do, pushing it open with a confidence I envy.

"Dr. Johns," William greets him as we make our entrance. "Chance and I have been discussing the safe-use clinics…"

I follow his lead, stepping up beside him to present a united front.

"We've identified a potential issue with malpractice insurance, but we've also found a way forward that should cover the hospital legally," he continues.

The words hang in the air between us and Dr. Johns, who sits back in his chair.

"It's just a document we'd need each doctor to sign," I chime in, "noting that their volunteering is separate from their duties affiliated with the hospital."

The next move is his.

I stand firm, meeting Dr. Johns's wary gaze with determination. The lines on his forehead deepen, a clear sign of his discomfort with the situation.

"Dr. Johns, we're not trying to undermine your authority. But we have to consider the bigger picture. I can't afford to lose my staff, and their work at the safe-use clinic is important. It's also important to them, so if they're going to do this, we need to make sure we have the release."

He frowns. "Chance," he says slowly, "you know how this looks, right? Two against one. It's hardly fair." His hands grip the arms of his chair, knuckles whitening.

I nod. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but this isn't about fairness. We're working together to solve a problem, and we appreciate your support. Safe-use clinics are government sponsored. We know they make a difference. Volunteering is about saving lives. Every overdose victim we help at the safe-use clinics is one less emergency in the ED. And for those we can steer to rehab, it's a chance for a new beginning."

After a moment, Dr. Johns sighs. "All right," he concedes. "But I want it known that I'm not pleased with being cornered like this. This hospital operates on order and rules. You'd do well to remember that."

"Of course, Dr. Johns," I reply with a respectful nod. " Thank you for understanding."

William explains a few details and the paperwork he'll put together, the conversation draws to a close, and I follow William out. As the door shuts behind us, I turn to him, realizing the safe-use clinics are the only topic we discussed.

"Wait, why were you scheduled to meet Dr. Johns today?" I ask. "Don't you have something else to discuss with him? Did we use up all your time?"

"Ah, that," he replies, waving a dismissive hand. "We'll reschedule. I don't want to hit him with too much at once. He needs time to digest today's developments."

"Fair enough," I say.

William walks beside me to the elevators, seeming a little stressed. I glance over at him, wondering about the burden of knowledge he carries.

"Can't say I envy you, having to navigate all these…legal pitfalls," I remark.

William lets out a half-hearted chuckle. "I think it's political, as much as legal. But it's in the job description. I've learned when Dr. Johns sets his mind to something, it's difficult to get him to adjust, but if you don't push too hard, he does better."

"That's a lot of managing."

"It is, but it's worth it." William smirks. "I'm also father to his granddaughter, and Cordelia and I will have another announcement soon."

I push the button to the elevator. "Are you expecting again?"

He smiles. "The kids will be about eleven months apart."

"Congratulations." I clap him on the shoulder. "That's big news."

"Thanks," he replies. "That's what happens when you marry a pediatrician. They want lots of kids."

The elevator arrives, and when I exit, I wave goodbye to William and opt not to walk into the ED. It's the end of the day, and the next shift is starting. I'm ready for a break. So instead, I make my way across the street to Barney's. I push through the door to find Griffin and Kent already there, nursing their pints.

"Bonjour." I slide onto a barstool. The bartender nods and pours me a pint without me needing to ask.

"Chance, you look like you've just won the lottery," Griffin teases, raising his glass in a mock salute.

"Feels like it," I admit, taking a sip of the cool beer when it arrives. "Safe-use clinic volunteers are getting the go-ahead. With some additional paperwork, we'll soon have legal protection that keeps that work separate from the hospital."

"Cheers to that!" Kent raises his pint, and our glasses clink together in a satisfying chorus of solidarity.

We talk, laugh, and for a moment, the weight of responsibility lifts from my shoulders. But the absence of one person casts a shadow over the celebration. I wish Lucy were here. I want to share this triumph with her, to see her eyes light up with that fierce passion she has for making a difference.

"Missing your better half?" Griffin asks.

My thoughts must be obvious. "Something like that," I confess, a wistful smile playing on my lips. "But Saturday night's not too far off. We're going to dinner then."

"Then let's raise another round—for the clinics and for absent friends," Kent proposes.

"Absent friends," we echo.

Though that toast isn't exactly accurate. Lucy is so much more than a friend. I just have to convince her to share her heart with me.