New York Doc, Thailand Proposal / The Surgeon's Baby Bombshell. Dianne Drake

mosquito netting.”

      “Do you see much dengue out here?” Layla asked.

      “A fair amount, but not epidemic-sized. There have been efforts by the government to control the mosquitoes, but some of the remote areas such as this don’t get a lot of help. I’ve petitioned for more netting and was allocated some, but not enough.”

      “Then I’ll get some. How many do I need and who do I contact to make arrangements?”

      “I’ve already petitioned for it, Layla. It will get here in due course.”

      “Could I get it here faster?”

      “In the jungle, patience is a virtue. We get what we need, but sometimes we have to wait.”

      “And in the meantime people are being exposed to mosquito-borne disease. Why would you want to be patient about that?”

      This was the same old Layla. Impatient for results. Impatient to move up. Impatient to get to the next thing on her list. He’d gotten used to it but coming from a place where impatience produced ulcers more than it did results, he’d never been one to indulge. And he worried that she did as it increased the chance that she would continually be dissatisfied in her life.

      Impatient people risked feeling overwhelmed. They set themselves up for failure and got down on themselves when it happened. And they burned out easily. Layla was too bright to burn out, but her impatience was leading her straight down that path. He’d warned her over and over when they’d been together. She hadn’t listened. Or maybe she’d thought she was somehow impervious to the pitfalls.

      He didn’t know which, but the Layla standing here with him right now hadn’t budged from the Layla of the past. “Because that’s the way it is here. We get what we need when it’s available and always keep in mind there are twenty-five regions here, and each one has several hospitals just like ours, all needing the same things we need. Everybody gets served, but we have to realize that we’re not the only ones in line.”

      “But what if I can cut that line?”

      “I can’t stop you. I never could. But be careful that cutting that line doesn’t cost you somewhere later in your career. We’re not impatient people out here, Layla. And we don’t see the stress-related disease brought on by impatience here the way so many doctors see it in the more civilized societies. But you already know that.”

      “So what you’re saying is you wouldn’t support me trying to use my connections to get you what you need?”

      “What I’m saying is we all do what we have to do. If buying netting from a private source is what you must do, then do it.”

      “And in return I’ll get to listen to you complain.”

      “No. I don’t complain about anything anyone donates, Layla. In fact, I’m grateful for it. And if you buy netting, I’ll be grateful for that. But you do need to know what you’re facing since you’ll be working here for a while. It’s rewarding and frustrating, in that order. And if you let it, it will tear you up.”

      “I don’t know how you do it, Arlo.”

      He smiled. “Sometimes I wonder about that myself. But, for the most part, it works out. And I’ve got five hundred people living in the village and the same number living just outside who support me and help any way they can. And they’re not impatient when they have to wait. I’m also not treating one ulcer in my whole practice.”

      “Point taken. But I still want to support you with some netting.”

      Ah, yes. The stubborn Layla got the last word. He’d expected it. And back when they’d been together, the making up that had come afterward had almost been worth the disagreement. It had always been more—intense. Arlo smiled, remembering. Almost missing those times. “And let me thank you in advance, because mosquitoes are a huge problem. So, tell me. Does your impatience get in the way of your medical practice? And I’m not trying to start something here. More like curious about an aspect of you I’ve always known.”

      “It’s part of who I am as a doctor. When I order a test, I don’t want to wait days for the results. When I order medications, I want them immediately. My patients expect that from me. So does your grandfather.”

      “He doesn’t mind your impatience?”

      “It gets results, so why should he?”

      “You’re always about the climb, aren’t you?”

      “That shouldn’t come as news. And maybe time has escalated my impatience,” she said, smiling. “However it works, it serves my patients well, and that’s always the bottom line for me.”

      “But what about your own personal bottom line, Layla? I know you have an agenda, as most people do, but what happens to you if something derails it? What if you don’t get this promotion? You’ve been working for it the whole time you’ve been a doctor, so what do you do with yourself when it doesn’t happen? Do you take stock of the things you’ve put aside to get it? Do you regret what you’ve missed on that climb?”

      “I don’t know,” she said. “For me, my life is designed around forward momentum. If that stopped, if I couldn’t get where I wanted to go, I have no idea what I’d do. Maybe try someplace else. Maybe still keep pushing despite the roadblock.”

      “At what cost, though?”

      “Do you really care, Arlo?”

      “Surprisingly, yes. I know how you struggle to get ahead. I lived with it until I realized I couldn’t compete with it.”

      “I’m sorry that happened,” she said.

      “I don’t regret what we were, Layla. I walked away from us as a better man. But I did worry about your direction. In a lot of ways, it was much more difficult than mine. It still is.” And, yes, he still worried. More than he should.