American Bad Boy(53)

“As you can imagine, it’s important that we maintain our reputation as a world class rehabilitation center,” he continues. Waves of guilt begin to wash up over me. “People come from all around the globe to receive care here, they do that because we’re known for our cutting edge clinics, but also because we’re known for our highly professional, top of the line staff.” My boss rolls his ring around his finger and the guilt rises like a tide.

“I know that, sir. And I don’t believe that what happened today needs to change any of that.” I hope I can plead my case.

“You don’t? How do you expect our facility to remain internationally respected when,” he clears his throat and every muscle in my body tightens? Here it comes. The pink slip and a walk to the front door. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes and I try to think of what I can possibly say to save my job. “When one of the biggest war heroes that America has ever known decides to cut his rehabilitation here early?”

Huh?

“I, um, I’m not sure?” I blink in surprise. My mind is trying to sift through his words like a gold panner in the Klondike, searching for a tiny glint of something familiar.

“It doesn’t look good at all.” He looks up at me with his eyebrows climbing skyward, worry clouds his eyes.

“I don’t think anyone would really notice that Mack, er, that Captain Forrester isn’t a patient here anymore.” I try to reassure him. “It’s not like they knew his program here or had a timeline of how long he was expected to stay.”

“Yes they did, I gave them one when we had the media conference,” he answers glumly.

Of course he did.

“Ok, but still, people discharge early for all kinds of reasons all of the time. I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.” I reassure him.

Galt’s eyebrows settle back down and the corners of his mouth twinge, almost imperceptibly. I can’t be sure, but I think he’s happy. “That’s true, as long as he doesn’t bad mouth our facility during his upcoming interviews.” His mouth turns back down. It was fun while it lasted.

“He won’t. I’ve known Mack since I was a child. He was just blowing smoke. He won’t say anything that will damage the hospital.” My mom heart twinges for him and I almost want to reach across his overcompensating desk and hold his hand.

Almost. I mean, let’s not get crazy here.

Galt nods slowly, digesting my words. “He said the same thing when I called him earlier,” he confides.

Wait just one hot second, Mack answered his calls but couldn’t return a single text from me?

“He did make a request that you be awarded a few days off to give you time to deal with personal issues you’ve been having. It’s no problem, of course, especially since your sole patient left today and also left a hole in your schedule.”

“I’m sorry, you were talking to Mack? And he told you what, exactly?” I drop the “Captain Forrester” routine and cut to the chase. I think it’s safe to say that the cat is out of the bag anyway.

“He mentioned the troubles you’ve been having with your son, and now with this adjustment you’ll need to make to your program, I don’t see a problem with you having a few days leave. I just wish you would’ve let me know that you were having issues. That’s what I’m here for.” He catches my eye quickly, but I can’t see any sincerity in him.

“Well, that’s very kind of you,” I answer through clenched teeth. Who the fuck does Mack think he is? First he follows me into the medical closet and almost gets me fired, then he tries to fix it by spilling secrets about my family? I’m fucking unimpressed. “However, I won’t be needing any time off. I have everything under control, I can assure you.” I hiss out my words.

“No need to thank me,” Dr. Galt steamrolls over me. Did he actually listen to anything I just said? “I’m hoping that on your extra days off that I’m granting, you’ll be able to speak with Captain Forrester and remind him of how well he was treated here? Just in case he has any hard feelings from our little outburst this morning.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, he rolls his chair back and pulls out a drawer on his desk, clearly searching for something.

“I can assure you that I’ll definitely be speaking to Captain Forrester.” I nod. I won’t tell him that I will most certainly be giving Mack a piece of my mind, but that I have no intention of being a walking infomercial for Spalding.

“That would be appreciated,” he reaches into his drawer and shuffles around, pulling out a pink piece of construction paper. “Here, do you mind giving this to him? It’s from my daughter. I was supposed to give it to him the day he arrived, but I must have forgotten.” He slides the homemade card across the desk to my fingertips.