Page 164 of Ten Day Affair
He nods slowly, understanding. "That's nice, Sam."
"I know I said we don't need to go there, but you gave me some good advice one night when we were talking about the changes that were coming. You said something like, 'maybe saving what your mother built means letting it evolve.' That's gotten me through this."
"Wow. I said that? So poetic."
"Maybe not those exact words, but yes, you did."
"Hmm. Not bad. So is the plan for you to run all of this program? Isn't that a full-time job, on top of your already full-time job?"
"I'd call it part-time. It only runs one day a week. I would probably get volunteers to coordinate most things, and I would just make sure we are staying on top of things. Working one day in the mobile clinic will count toward my hospital hours, so that isn't any different."
"Would you do everything a clinic would do?"
"Pretty much. We could do basic care, screenings, and follow-ups. Nothing fancy, but consistent."
Cole asks three more questions about logistics, funding streams, and patient tracking. Smart questions. Thoughtful ones. The kind that shows he's actually listening instead of just waiting for his turn to talk.
Something warm unfurls in my chest that has nothing to do with coffee.
"You're doing this." He says it with something like admiration.
"Scared as hell, but yeah." I glance at my phone and sigh. "Speaking of doing things that scare me, I have lunch with Dad in an hour."
"Mind if I tag along?"
"Actually, no. Come on." I stand, brushing hair out of my face.
“Kidding. No, I'll pass. I've got some work to do, anyway.
The Coastal Grillperches right on the water with white umbrellas shading small tables scattered across weathered wood decking. Salt air mixes with grilled fish and lemon.
Dad waves from a corner table, his silver hair catching the filtered sunlight. He stands as I approach, that formal gesture that never changes.
"You look rested."
Flashes of the acrobatics I did late into the night roll across my mind. I did not get enough sleep, but I guess something did me right.
"Thanks. Sorry I'm a few minutes late."
The server appears before I'm fully seated. We order matching Caesar salads and iced tea. Safe choices. Nothing that requires much attention.
Dad straightens his napkin. "How's Atlanta treating you?"
"Good. Challenging, but good." I fidget with my water glass. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."
His eyebrows lift slightly.
"I'm launching a mobile medical unit," I say, keeping itsimple. "It’ll serve underserved communities around Atlanta."
My voice stays steady. Just facts. No pitch, no sell.
Dad nods slowly. "You know, your mother talked about doing something like that here. Back in the late eighties, before anyone was doing it."
I blink. "No, I didn’t know that."
"Yeah. She had it all mapped out. Even planned a fundraiser." He shakes his head a little. "Can’t remember now why it didn’t pan out."
The air shifts. A chill moves down my spine, like something bigger is at work. Like I didn’t just choose this, I was meant for it.
