Someone To Love. Karen White-Owens

slapped his hand against the table. It sounded like an exploding bomb in the quiet of the room. He reached under the table and slipped his feet into his Air Force One sneakers. “Good.” He rose and plucked his keys from the end table. “I’ve got to be going. Let me walk you out.”

      Chapter 7

      The constant bouncing of a ball drew Shae’s attention from the stack of resumes to the basketball court next door. She stretched and glanced out the window, watching the rowdy bunch.

      Her office had been painted in a soothing lilac and the floor covered with a rich lavender carpet. A used metal desk with a Formica surface sat in the center of the room. A gray cloth swivel chair and a black steel four-drawer file cabinet occupied much of the free space. The lack of space didn’t matter because Shae suspected that most of her time would be spent in the exam rooms rather than in her office.

      Glancing at the white wall clock, she noted the time. It was almost five and J.D. would be pulling up to the building any minute. Shae dropped the pile of typed pages, her yearly budget information and supply order into her briefcase before snapping it closed. Looking forward to seeing J.D., her heart rate accelerated. She retrieved her suit jacket from the back of her chair, slipped her arms into the sleeves and prepared to leave the office for the day. She shut and locked her office door and headed for the front of the building. On her way out, Shae halted at the entrance to the medical director’s office. “Good night, Dr. Reid.”

      With a pencil stuck behind his left ear, the doctor was deeply focused on the information on his computer screen. She cleared her throat. He glanced her way with a distracted expression on his face, blinking several times before focusing on her. “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

      “Yes, you will.” She turned toward the lobby.

      “By the way,” he said. “My name is Kenyatta. Please use it.”

      “And my name is Shae.”

      “Fair enough.” Smiling back at her, he nodded. “I meant to come down to your office and see how things were going. I got caught up in work and everything flew out of my head. How did today go for you? Did you find all the things that you needed?”

      “I made a great start today. Set up interviews for tomorrow and Friday.” Shae placed her briefcase on the floor near her leg. “I’m going to decide on hiring over the weekend and then make offers Monday. That will give the applicants time to give their current employers two-week notices.”

      “Sounds good. By the way, where are you staying?” He removed the pencil from behind his ear and reached for a sheet of scratch paper.

      “Downtown Marriott.”

      “Nice. You’re not planning to stay there indefinitely, are you?”

      Leaning against the doorframe, she answered, “No. After we get the staffing issues resolved, I’m going to look for a permanent address. Why? Did you have any suggestions? Do you know of a place?”

      “Sorry, no.” Kenyatta’s face lit up as an idea formulated in his mind. He lifted a finger. “But,” he paused for emphasis before continuing, “there are some great real estate agents in this area that will do the leg work for you. While you’re handling our business, they’ll be handling yours.”

      “Sounds good. Do you have a name?” Shae asked.

      “Not with me. My sister used one when she sold her house. I’ll talk to her this evening and get back to you tomorrow.”

      “Fair enough.”

      “How are you getting home?” Kenyatta asked.

      “My friend is picking me up.” She glanced at her watch, then reached for her briefcase. “He’s probably waiting. I better get going. See you Thursday morning.”

      “Good night.”

      There was an extra spring in her step as she hurried down the hall and out the front door. She halted outside the building. Instead of J.D.’s car idling at the curb, she found an empty space.

      For a moment, Shae’s confusion and disappointment overwhelmed her. Those feelings transported her back to her childhood and the times when her father promised to pick her up from school and then got so wrapped up in his work the he forgot all about her.

      Shae shook her head, beating down the anxieties surging through her. Her feelings spiked before dropping back to a manageable level. J.D. should be here, she thought, glancing at the LCD screen on the cell phone. A small groan escaped from her lips. No messages. He was running a little late or traffic problems caused his delay. If he didn’t show up in fifteen minutes, she’d go back into the building and order a taxi.

      It’s rush hour and he probably got caught in traffic, she thought nervously. No point in returning to the building. I’ll wait here for him.

      Deciding on a plan eased her anxiety and she felt more confident about waiting for J.D. Shae intended to embrace this opportunity and observe the community near the clinic. She shrugged and strolled to a wooden bench near a bus stop.

      It was a typical inner-city neighborhood with lots of kids and music, and teenagers strolling up and down the streets. A variety of homes graced the area. Colonial, bungalows and two-family flats all shared space on the same block. Many of the structures were in need of repair, some major and some minor.

      Placing her briefcase on the bench beside her, Shae decided to use her time wisely and tackle some of the work that needed her attention. If she must wait, she might as well make the best use of her time. Engrossed in resumes, she glanced up from her reading to find two children watching her. Dressed in a gray, red and black–striped long-sleeve T-shirt, denims and high-top sneakers, a small boy no older than five sat on the U-shaped handlebar of a bike. The older of the two children balanced the bike between his denim-clad legs. Their small round faces revealed the same facial structure and brown eyes. They had to be related.

      “What you doin’?” the little one asked from his perch on the handlebars.

      Smiling, she answered, “Reading. What are you doing?”

      “Watchin’ you,” the older boy responded.

      Giggling, Shae tossed the papers back into her briefcase and gave the boys her full attention. “Fair enough. Do you live around here?”

      Twin heads bobbed up and down. The older boy pointed at a house down the block. “Yeah. We live down there. Near the corner.”

      “Where do you live?” the little one asked.

      “Downtown, for now,” Shae answered.

      The younger boy slipped from the handlebars and moved closer. “What’s your name?”

      “Shae.”

      Pointing a finger at his chest, he volunteered, “I’m Desmond.”

      “Well, hello, Desmond.” Shae dipped her head in silent acknowledgement, directing her attention to the other child. “And you are?”

      “Sterling. Sterling Walls.”

      Shae rose from the bench and extended her hand. The young man hesitated for a moment, blushing profusely before slipping his small hand in hers.

      Desmond walked over to her and touched her briefcase. “What are you readin’?”

      “Work stuff. Do you like to read?”

      “I’m too young to read,” Desmond answered.

      Turning to the older boy, Shae asked, “How about you, Sterling? Do you like to read?”

      “Little bit. But I like video games and TV better.”

      Shae noticed Desmond kept wiping his runny nose with the sleeve of his striped T-shirt. The poor little thing looked miserable. Germs, Shae thought. Maybe she could help, mentally shifting through the items in her briefcase.