Page 18 of Reformation

Which makes me think…

“Not that I’m sad about the company, but can I ask, why are you here?”

Paige sits back down, satisfied that I’m not about to have another coughing fit. “I volunteer here. At the hospital. I was dropping off flowers to your roommate and noticed you… well, asleep. Because yes, I was staring at you. But in my defense, seeing you took me by surprise.”

I laugh at her admission, though it’s the first part of her statement that surprises me.

“You volunteer here?”

She nods. “For a few years now.”

“How have I never seen you here?”

“Why would you? Are you… I mean, does this happen a lot?”

Her questions are genuine, and I realize that she doesn’t know anything about me other than I’m Cullen’s uncle.

“No. This is the first time I’ve been here as a patient. I’m an orthopedic surgeon.”

“Oh, I’m usually downstairs at reception,” she says. “And I’m usually only here on weekends. Today is special because of the holiday. I don’t get up to patient floors that much anymore. That’s probably why we haven’t run into each other.”

Her response catches me off guard. Not that there’s anything wrong with what she said. I think the fact that she volunteers is admirable. Doing that on top of her work schedule further proves she’s the saint that Charlie insists she is—or even the angel that I think she is.

No, what has me shaking my head is her lack of reaction when I told her what I do for a living. Usually when I tell a woman what my job is, I can immediately see dollar signs in her eyes. It doesn’t matter if I’m married or not, they hear “doctor” or “surgeon” and they are already plotting ways to get into my pants, and my wallet.

But when I look at Paige, there isn’t a mischievous glint in her eye. No, she’s looking at me like I’m… normal. Like we are just two people having a conversation.

It’s nice. Refreshing.

“So, what has you volunteering on Christmas Eve? I didn’t think anyone who didn’t have to be here tonight would be.”

“I always volunteer on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I don’t have any family around here, and just because it’s a holiday, this place doesn’t close down. So I come in and do whatever needs to be done.”

“You don’t do anything for Christmas?” I know it’s a personal question. I can’t help it. I suddenly want to know everything about this woman.

She shakes her head. “My mom lives in Alabama, and well, I don’t go back there. Friends I teach with always invite me over to their houses on Christmas, but I always feel awkward going. I’d much rather be volunteering. It’s what I do every other day of the week, why not on a holiday?”

“Every other day of the week? As in, you volunteer every day?” I don’t know if it’s my growing fatigue or the medication, but I couldn’t have heard her right. Who volunteers every day of the week?

She nods. “That’s right. I’m involved with a lot of nonprofits and local programs. There’s the drug counseling center, the women’s shelter, and the Red Cross. I run the school’s blood drives. Oh, and I just started at the food bank. And if a student needs my help, I stay after school and tutor.”

“That’s on top of your full-time job?” Charlie was right. This woman is a saint. “Aren’t you tired? I’m tired just listening to you talk about it.”

“You can’t be tired if you’re always moving.”

At that moment, my body betrays me, letting out a yawn that I swear lasts for twenty seconds.

“You need to go to sleep,” she says, standing up to make her exit.

I yawn again, wishing she could stay and talk to me all night, though I know she can’t. But before she leaves, there is something I need to tell her.

“Thank you.”

She gives me a confused look. “For what?”

“For making my night better.”

My words earn me a shy smile.

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