Page 45 of White Collar Rancher

Priya rubbed her hands on the armrests. Why had she taken so long to approach her parents?

Mom’s brow furrowed, and she aimed her gaze at Dad. Shoving a lock of her recently bobbed and freshly dyed chestnut hair behind her ear, she said, “Well, we can’t go to the COO. Kirkland and Bezos are golfing buddies.”

Kirkland was the clinic’s chief organizational officer. Like Bezos, he’d been around forever.

Dad took off his thick-framed readers. The frown that marred his face was what Priya always teased him was his doctor look. “No, definitely not Kirkland. Human Resources. And I’ll go with you.”

Mom’s nod was firm. “So will I.”

Priya wanted to cheer, but she had to be realistic. Her parents had a long history at both the clinic and the hospital. They were well respected, but so was Bezos. Priya had heard the rumors about how easily he dispensed pain medication, but she’d never heard of any disciplinary action. Golf buddy and all.

“Won’t they cite nepotism if we all march in?”

“True.” Mom sighed and leaned back, her chair creaking. “Your father should go with, though. He’s had to deal with guys like Bezos his whole career.”

Priya turned to her dad. “Really?” She knew his first several years had been rocky, being a city boy in a small town. A new doctor in a tight-knit community. One of the only Indians in a rural Minnesota town. Breaking in and fitting in hadn’t been easy, but he’d done it. Even better, he’d stood out.

She hadn’t realized the problems continued to happen. He was a popular doctor, and families stayed with him until he treated their kids and even their grandkids. With children, he spoke in whatever accent made them giggle. The top request: pirate. He even dressed the part. Whatever put the kid at ease. Of course, he’d done it all the time for her and Devya.

She should’ve gone to Dad as soon as her patient load started dropping. His experience would benefit her whether she was his daughter or not. He didn’t need to hold her hand, but as a colleague, his advice was invaluable.

“I’ll go in first,” she said. “Tell me who to talk to and I’ll set up a meeting.”

“Sarah Mathers has helped me a few times over the years when colleagues or even patients gave me trouble. Don’t back down, Pri-Pri.” Dad’s use of her nickname didn’t detract from the grimness of his tone and expression. “There’ll always be another Dr. Bezos. Ninety percent of your coworkers will be decent people who only want to help each other, but that ten percent can ruin your career.”

Mom reclined in her chair, her chin propped in her hand. “And if you don’t clue Human Resources into what’s going on, that percentage will crawl far higher than ten percent. Management needs to put a stop to this behavior. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

Yes, they would. Wasn’t that what they did? With Devya, they cruised in front of her, trying to clear her path. But with Priya, they stood back and waited. Because they cared about her and supported her. They had confidence in her. Maybe she’d only needed some in herself. Confidence that didn’t revolve around a grade, or the dean’s list.

“Hey, um, I have another scenario to run by you. What would you have done?” As her angst over not urging Maisy to seek mental help spilled out, she marveled over the lack of guilt. They might be her parents, but they were also colleagues and maybe that was the workaround she needed to justify talking about it.

Mom sat forward, the woman who had made known her dislike of Maisy’s actions but never forbid Priya from seeing her. “Do you really think it would’ve changed the outcome?”

How could it not have?

“Say you urged her to get counseling,” Dad said. “She would’ve done one of three things: ignored you, stormed out, or made an appointment. But how long would it have taken her to even make an appointment? How many therapists would she have burned through before finding one that worked for her? And once she reached that level, how long before her behavior changed? Don’t forget, she would’ve had to want it before she picked up the phone to make an appointment. None of it means she would’ve gone to the doctor for her illness in time. She had an ear infection. Bacterial meningitis is so serious because of how fast it can take a person. How many people would’ve done exactly what she did and waited it out?”

“The what-ifs kill a career.” Mom snuck a glance at Dad. Obviously, they’d been through this conversation before, between themselves. “You made the decision you did at the time for a reason. Have faith in your experience and your education and, in this case, your friendship with Maisy to understand it was the right decision at the time.”

She bobbed her head in acknowledgment, but she had no response just yet. Their words were sinking in and needed to marinate. Being alone in her own thoughts had clouded her objectivity.

She was going to Justin’s for the night. Around him, her actions in the past made more sense. Orbiting around someone who understood what Maisy was like would help Dad’s advice triumph.

She should get going. A storm was coming. Getting snowed in at home with her parents might be fun, but her desire was to spend the night with Justin. A night both her parents were home, an entire weekend they could spend together and play Monopoly and watch movies, and she was the one opting out.

On Monday, she’d march into Human Resources and file a complaint. By herself.

“Thank you,” she said as she rose. “It means a lot. As long as I have you two behind me, I can do this. He isn’t going to lie his way into me leaving.”

“Don’t doubt it. If anyone does, we’ll set them straight.” Mom’s hard tone made her shiver. That was what Priya called her nurse voice. The don’t argue with me inflection that she used on lazy employees, patients who were refusing treatment to their own detriment, and doctors whose egos got too big for their patients’ own good. Mom’s next words were softer, infused with curiosity. “Are you going to be gone all weekend again?”

She’d managed to dance around the topic. Her parents were gone so much that she’d honestly wondered if they even noticed. “Probably.”

Dad had slipped his reading glasses back on, and he looked at her over the frames. “Surely Justin’s baby can’t still be having troubles. Are you two seeing each other?”

“N-no. Yes… Not really.” Now both parents’ laser focus was on her. Somehow, she went from being almost thirty with an advanced degree and a career to a stammering teenager who just wanted to make it out the front door to freedom. “I mean, we’re not serious.”

Mom’s lips thinned. “His decision or yours?”

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