“What?” I barked into the wind, running toward him. “What happened?”
He cast his gaze toward his shoes. “I’m out,” he said, his voice rough. “He didn’t say it, but I think the job is yours.”
“What?” That made no sense.
His brown eyes flipped up to meet mine. “It was me. I moved Jude to the top of the waiting list this past spring. Norse asked, and I confessed.” He swallowed hard. “Because I knew he’d think you did it.”
“You…” All the air squeezed out of my lungs. “Why?” I gasped. That made no sense at all.
Big brown eyes blinked at me, and there was hurt in them. “He was hooked on heroin and headed back to town. I didn’t want you to have to deal with that. The waiting lists at those places are as long as a year.”
A different version of this year flashed before me—Jude back in Colebury, his body demanding heroin. A Jude who was still thin and unhealthy, hoping to get off a waiting list somewhere before it killed him.
I shivered in the wind. “But Denny, you risked…” Everything. “Why?”
He closed his eyes. “If you don’t get it by now then I really can’t explain it to you.” He turned away from me and yanked on the car’s door handle. When the door opened, he got inside. A half second later the motor was running. He backed away while I was still standing there trying to make sense of it.
Mind. Blown.
I walked back to my car, freezing now. I started the engine and let it warm up for sixty seconds, just as Jude had always advised me. My phone rang while I waited, and the display showed Norse’s office number.
“Hello?”
“Sophie, I’m terribly sorry to doubt you. It was…”
“Denny,” I warbled. “I wish he hadn’t done that.” Tears threatened again.
“I wish he hadn’t either. If he’d met with me about it instead, we might have been able to find the patient a treatment program without breaking all the rules.”
“Is there anything you can do for him?” I begged. “He’ll need a recommendation.”
There was a beat of silence on the line. “I’m not sure what I’ll be comfortable writing,” he said. “I’ll speak to Denny again later this week after I’ve had time to think.”
“All right,” I said softly.
“The job is yours, Sophie. Come to work for me full time. You’ll be terrific at it.”
I knew I would, but my eyes leaked nonetheless. “It should be Denny.”
“Not necessarily,” he said. “You were always in the running. I won’t press you on it today, but call me later in the week so we can go over the job and the benefits, and you can tell me your decision.”
“Okay,” I said dutifully.
“Talk soon,” he said. “And chin up.”
Right.
I dialed Jude, who would be waiting for me to tell him what happened. I thought there were two possible outcomes today: success and joy, or rejection and despair. I hadn’t seen the third choice coming.
“Hey, babe,” he said when he answered. “Tell me everything.”
So I did.
Jude exhaled on a sigh. “Shit. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“I know but…shit! He saved my life, and he gets fired for it.”
“Pretty much.”
“He did it for you.”
“I got that,” I snapped. “Sorry. It’s just…really stressful. I’m getting his job.”
“No,” he said softly. “You’re getting a job. He’s going to have to find another one. He can use his college professors as references, Soph. It’s not like he worked for your hospital for ten years, and they’re the only people he knows.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
“We didn’t make him do that,” Jude pointed out. “But I can’t say I don’t appreciate it. Never thought I’d bumped somebody off the list.”
“There are ten people waiting for every drug treatment bed in Vermont. Everyone who gets treatment is bumping someone else off the list.”
“How fucking sad.”
We were both quiet for a moment.
“Sophie?”
“Yeah?”
“Does this mean we’re staying in the Montpelier area?”
“I guess it does. Who knew?”
“Are you busy right now?”
“Nope.”
“Can you meet me somewhere? I’m in Montpelier—on Bailey Avenue.”
“Where?”
“Type it into your phone. I’m just north of Terrace. You can’t miss my junker.”
“This is very mysterious,” I said.
“Not really. I’ll explain in a few minutes when you get here.”
He wasn’t kidding—the street was an eight-minute drive from the hospital even though I hit every red light. Jude’s Avenger was parked on a side street in front of a white clapboard house with black shutters and a peaked roof.
Jude jumped out of the car when I drove up. When I got out, he hugged me. “Sorry your day is a stress fest,” he said.
“So am I.”
“He might land right on his feet, Soph.”
“I know. Now show me your thing.”
“Really baby? Right here?” He made a show of reaching for his zipper.
“Jude!”