Page 59 of Huge Dynamite
“He’s going to be a partner, Holly,” my father explains. “God knows I’ve asked you enough times. Then, when we heard that you bought that building… Why did we have to find out from Clea?”
He sounds hurt. Shit.
Tilting his head, he smiles. “You could have told me, you know.”
Nodding, I swallow hard.
Reaching across the table, my dad takes my hand and covers it with his. His hand has always been so large and powerful. “I knew you were never going to join me at the practice. It’s not your world, Holly. It never has been.” Sitting back, he takes a deep breath. “But your mother and I were talking, and we decided that it was time for me to slow down a bit.”
“Slow down? Dad, you’re one of the best cardiothoracic surgeons in the southwest. You’re still young—you love working. Why?”
“Because he works too much,” Monica butts in. “Like someone else I know.” She raises a single eyebrow at me. I could never understand how she did that. “It’s time for us to travel and see the world. We need to get out of Phoenix for a while.”
My dad stares at the table, and as James arrives with our food, my stomach flips over. Three forty-dollar fish and a twenty-five-dollar salad are placed before us, and all I can think about is my neighborhood, where people have to choose between rent and healthcare. Well, not anymore. I’m going to make sure of that. Staring at my salad, I lift my fork and pick at the lettuce. Stabbing a cherry tomato, I twirl my fork around.
Glancing up, I see my father is looking at me. Swallowing hard, I smile at him. Placing my fork down by my untouched salad, I sit up tall and put both hands in my lap.
“Well.” Clearing my throat, I bend my fingers and start picking at my nails. “Congratulations, Dad and Robert. And thank you all for inviting me tonight, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a ton of work waiting for me.”
Pushing the chair back from the table, I begin to stand, but my mother motions to Robert to stop me. Reaching out, he grabs my wrist with his hand. Looking down at his hand on me, I feel nothing. The man is touching me, and there’s nothing—no spark, no excitement—and I don’t think there ever was.
“Holly,” my mother says, looking up from her fish. “We’re not through yet. Sit, sit.”
“Not through with what?” I ask as I comply.
My mother places her fork down and nods to my father to do the same. With a sigh, he obliges.
“Holly.” She leans closer. “We told you before. We’re worried about you. All of us.”
She looks at Robert, and he nods in agreement, wearing a serious look on his face. Rolling my eyes, I scowl at him.Come off it, Robert. That’s the same damn look you use when you’re debating which side to part your hair in the morning.
“I’ve already told you, Mom, I’m happy. Why can’t we all just accept that changes are happening and be happy for one another?”
“Because you’re being crazy,” my mother whispers.
“Excuse me?”
“You bought a building inGreenville.” She hisses the word. “You spent your life savings, and Clea tells us the mortgage is seven figures.”
Thanks, Clea. “It is.”
“What?” Robert decides to chime in. “Holly, you’ll be tied to that forever. You’ll never make your money back at the clinic.”
“I don’t need to. It’s not about making money, Robert. Don’t you get that? Besides, I can afford the building.”
“What about the equipment, and medical supplies, and everything else you’ll need?”
“I know. I’ve thought of that. I’ll need some investors. There are grants. And I’ll find staff who are willing to donate their time.”
Robert chuckles, and I swear it’s like nails on a chalkboard.
“Donate their time?” he counters. “Who is going to donate their time to a place like that?”
Nodding, I try to unclench my jaw. “There will be doctors who want to. Doctors who want to help in a community that needs them. Do you know why I chose Greenville?”
Looking around the table, I make eye contact with each of them. My father holds my gaze.
“Where my building is—on Main Street, the city area—is only part of the town. Greenville is a large community, and nearly everyone lives below the poverty level. They’re poor, but it’s a family neighborhood. They want more for themselves and their families.” Taking a deep breath, I go on. “There’s a little boy who has asthma. Poor kid can barely walk down the street without wheezing, but he’s a little boy, so he wants to run and play with his friends. Once the clinic is up and running, I can treat him for his asthma and give him his inhaler and meds for free. That will change his life.”
