street, she went back into the open house. The crowd had thinned a little. Dr. Grant was talking to Mac, Lou’s nephew. Dr. Grant held his daughter on his hip. She stood back a bit, a little nervous, until both men stopped talking and turned her way, their brows raised in question.
“Dr. Grant, I’ve been looking for openings, for work, and as it happens I’ve worked in a doctor’s office. It’s been a long time, just over five years, and I was only part-time, but I know how to do all the things a medical secretary does. I answered the phones, I’m up to speed on HIPAA regulation, have filed insurance claims, scheduled appointments, all that. The doctor said I did a good job, but she closed her practice. It was just less than a year of experience but it was an ob-gyn practice and there are hardly any crazier, more demanding patients, especially with a doctor who gets called out a lot for deliveries, leaving people waiting. So, if you’re looking for someone... I mean, would you consider me? If there’s no one else? I heard you say you didn’t have anyone and...”
He smiled at her. “I’d love to talk about it,” he said. “Can you come to the office Monday morning?”
She let out her breath. Even though she was well aware he might not find her qualified, she felt as though she’d just shed thirty pounds! “Yes,” she said. “If you’re sure...”
“I’d love to hear more about your short career in obstetrics,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll be here by eight and stay till five or so. Anytime you’re free.”
“Thank you,” she said in a breath. “I’ll, ah, see you. Monday. Yes. And thanks for letting me come to your open house!”
“I’m glad you stopped in.”
* * *
After better than a year of pounding the pavement looking for work in Seattle, followed by four years in a commune, Devon had a job interview. All those old feelings of vulnerability and fear rose to the surface once again.
She had worried all weekend about what to say, how to say it, how to talk about her work history with that long five-year gap and not come off looking like some freak or loser. She had learned during her struggle to find employment that many people thought the poor, jobless, homeless citizens were all drunks, addicts, lazy or lunatics. They didn’t recognize how many of them were senior citizens, war veterans and other victims of the failing economy. The high rate of business closures and escalating unemployment rate made it tough for anyone to find work. Many of the jobless were well educated and hardworking, just like herself.
Though she was very nervous about her meeting with Dr. Grant, she was also determined. And it was Rawley who gave her the courage to see it through. He said, “Listen here, miss. If you find yourself a job, it’s a start. And if you don’t get the job, it don’t matter. We’ll go on the same, and you’ll just try again.”
“I just don’t know why you’re so kind to me, a perfect stranger,” she said.
“Like I told you before, I been on your end of things and I have a lot to pay back. And two, you ain’t hardly a stranger anymore.”
She left Mercy with Rawley at the beach bar. Cooper gave her a lift across the beach to town first thing in the morning. She was waiting when Dr. Grant unlocked his office door. He was surprised and seemed pleased to see her. While he brewed some coffee in that tiny break room, they chatted about general things—how she liked the beach, the town, the people she’d met. She asked him how long he’d been in Thunder Point and was very surprised to learn he’d only been in Oregon for about a year, working in Bandon, and had found a house to rent in Thunder Point only a month ago. He had come from Vancouver.
“And I’m originally from Seattle,” she said. “That’s where I grew up.”
When the coffee was brewed they sat down at the small table and Dr. Grant explained that he needed someone who was comfortable doing a wide
“Dr. Grant, I’ve been looking for openings, for work, and as it happens I’ve worked in a doctor’s office. It’s been a long time, just over five years, and I was only part-time, but I know how to do all the things a medical secretary does. I answered the phones, I’m up to speed on HIPAA regulation, have filed insurance claims, scheduled appointments, all that. The doctor said I did a good job, but she closed her practice. It was just less than a year of experience but it was an ob-gyn practice and there are hardly any crazier, more demanding patients, especially with a doctor who gets called out a lot for deliveries, leaving people waiting. So, if you’re looking for someone... I mean, would you consider me? If there’s no one else? I heard you say you didn’t have anyone and...”
He smiled at her. “I’d love to talk about it,” he said. “Can you come to the office Monday morning?”
She let out her breath. Even though she was well aware he might not find her qualified, she felt as though she’d just shed thirty pounds! “Yes,” she said. “If you’re sure...”
“I’d love to hear more about your short career in obstetrics,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll be here by eight and stay till five or so. Anytime you’re free.”
“Thank you,” she said in a breath. “I’ll, ah, see you. Monday. Yes. And thanks for letting me come to your open house!”
“I’m glad you stopped in.”
* * *
After better than a year of pounding the pavement looking for work in Seattle, followed by four years in a commune, Devon had a job interview. All those old feelings of vulnerability and fear rose to the surface once again.
She had worried all weekend about what to say, how to say it, how to talk about her work history with that long five-year gap and not come off looking like some freak or loser. She had learned during her struggle to find employment that many people thought the poor, jobless, homeless citizens were all drunks, addicts, lazy or lunatics. They didn’t recognize how many of them were senior citizens, war veterans and other victims of the failing economy. The high rate of business closures and escalating unemployment rate made it tough for anyone to find work. Many of the jobless were well educated and hardworking, just like herself.
Though she was very nervous about her meeting with Dr. Grant, she was also determined. And it was Rawley who gave her the courage to see it through. He said, “Listen here, miss. If you find yourself a job, it’s a start. And if you don’t get the job, it don’t matter. We’ll go on the same, and you’ll just try again.”
“I just don’t know why you’re so kind to me, a perfect stranger,” she said.
“Like I told you before, I been on your end of things and I have a lot to pay back. And two, you ain’t hardly a stranger anymore.”
She left Mercy with Rawley at the beach bar. Cooper gave her a lift across the beach to town first thing in the morning. She was waiting when Dr. Grant unlocked his office door. He was surprised and seemed pleased to see her. While he brewed some coffee in that tiny break room, they chatted about general things—how she liked the beach, the town, the people she’d met. She asked him how long he’d been in Thunder Point and was very surprised to learn he’d only been in Oregon for about a year, working in Bandon, and had found a house to rent in Thunder Point only a month ago. He had come from Vancouver.
“And I’m originally from Seattle,” she said. “That’s where I grew up.”
When the coffee was brewed they sat down at the small table and Dr. Grant explained that he needed someone who was comfortable doing a wide
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