Say You'll Remember Me(75)

Maggie licked her lips. “We had an idea.”

“A good idea,” Tina said quickly.

Usually when these two had a “good idea” it involved something like me dressing up as a giant Chihuahua to hand out candy in the local summer parade.

“I think it’s going to be a win-win for everyone,” Maggie said. “And we really want you to consider it.”

Tina was nodding emphatically.

“What did you do?” I said slowly.

“Just… go meet him,” Maggie begged. “Please.”

I swiveled to face them. “I’m going to need more information.”

“He’ll tell you everything,” Maggie said. “Just talk to him.”

Tina gave me prayer hands.

I looked at the two of them for another long moment. Then I got up and went to see who was waiting for me.

I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but the man on the bench by the reception desk was not it. He stood when he saw me, a hat in his hand.

He had to be at least eighty.

He wore suspenders and had a head full of wild gray hair and bushy gray eyebrows.

“Dr. Rush?” he said, putting out a hand. “I’m Dr. Hank.”

I shook it, still not knowing what was going on.

“I was hoping I could have a moment of your time,” he said.

I glanced back at Maggie and Tina. They were peeking around the corner watching us.

I nodded to room three. “Please.”

I followed him into the exam room and closed the door.

He sat slowly like his knees hurt and set his hat on the chair next to him.

“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” he said, after I’d taken my seat. “Did the ladies tell you anything?”

“They did not.”

He chuckled a little. “They’re a pair.” He shook his head. “I’ll cut right to it then. I would like to come work for you.”

I stared at him.

He put a hand up. “I know, I’m old. Hear me out. I’ve got fifty-five years of vetting under my belt. I owned my own clinics for most of that. I know how hard those first few years can be and I think I can help.”

“I’m sorry—Hank? I’ve explained this to them, I can’t afford another doctor—”

“I’ll work for free.”

I blinked at him.

“You’ll work for free,” I said slowly.

“I don’t need the money. What I need is people. Socialization. I need something to look forward to every day. Something to get me up and out of bed, keep me moving.”

“You can volunteer,” I said, shaking my head. “There’s plenty of rescues that will take you.”

“But they don’t have them,” he said, pointing at the door. “Before the ladies came to work for you, they worked for me.”

I straightened. “Dr. Brekken?”

“That’s me.”

Dr. Hank Brekken. I knew him—of him. He’d retired, sold his practice. I’d hired Maggie and Tina as a pair two months after his clinic shuttered two years ago.

“I just want to work with my people again,” he said. “I want to see my friends. They take care of me—I’m sure you know. They like to feed you.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Yes. They do. Why close the practice if you weren’t ready to retire?” I asked.

He sighed. “Well, the long answer is my business partner was ready to retire. I was slowing down, and it was getting harder to be on my feet that much. My knees aren’t as young as they used to be. The short answer is my wife was dying. Cancer. I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” I said.

He nodded. “She passed away four months ago. I don’t have any kids, and my family’s gone. I’m trying to stay busy. It’s easy to just let yourself go when something like this happens and… well. Anyhow. That’s where I’m at. I ran into Maggie last week and she mentioned you might have something for me. Figured I should give it a shot.”

I studied him. “I don’t feel right not paying you.”

He shrugged. “Pay me enough for the tank of gas to get here, then, if it makes you feel better. But I really don’t need it. My house is paid off, and I’ve got plenty in my savings, more than I’ll ever spend. Heck, I’d pay you. Coming here is cheaper than a gym.”

I let a breath out through my nose. “What kind of schedule are you looking for?”

“Something easy. Every other day maybe, just to give me a chance to recover from the day before. I go to church Sundays, so I’d prefer to be off then, but I could help out in a pinch.”

“So two, three days a week?”

“That would be perfect. And much appreciated.”

I sat back and looked at him. This was the answer to so many of my problems. I could take an extra day off to stay longer in California without having to close the office while I was gone. I could sleep on days I picked up graveyard shifts instead of running from one job to the next. Take a sick day without canceling on patients, double up the number of animals we could see on the days we both worked… It felt like an act of God that he was sitting here. I still couldn’t quit the ER, but at least this would improve my current quality of life.