Anatomy of a Meet Cute, page 19
The act of Sam holding still caused Duke to jerk backward. The sight of a large and extremely conspicuous man flailing brought Jehan’s and Travis’s attention to them. In an instant, the lines on Jehan’s face smoothed, and Travis affixed a smile that hovered somewhere between drop dead and rictus on his face.
“You two ready to grub?” Jehan asked after what felt like a lifetime of silence.
“Yup,” Duke said, regaining his footing. Gently tugging on Sam’s arm, he added, “I’m super excited about the cauliflower-steak bites.”
“You know it.” Sam doubted that any food eaten with a man who called ketchup spicy would be grubbable, but Jehan looked like she needed a lifeline, so she said, “I’m most excited about the plant-based brisket.”
Reaching the table, the pair of them sat down right as someone from the waitstaff appeared wearing an entirely denim outfit and said, “Hi, I’m Stephanie, and I’ll be your server for the tasting. Before we get started, are there any food allergies I should be aware of?”
It took everything in Sam not to grin at Stephanie’s stereotypical Valley girl accent as she shook her head no. Before moving to California, she’d assumed everyone there sounded the same way. As it turned out, the accent was literally reserved for the valley outside Los Angeles. It wasn’t common to hear it this far north, and it immediately made her feel like she was listening to someone who’d swallowed a reality TV star.
Taking in the shaking heads, Stephanie said, “Okay, then let’s get started. I have a series of small plates and pairings featuring local, vegan, organic wines for us to begin with.”
As if on cue, a line of servers descended on them with about fifteen tiny plates and a bazillion glasses, and Sam realized that if this was just the passed-apps course, she would be full for three days and need about a week to sober up.
Before Sam could blink, Stephanie proceeded to give them a rundown of how to eat a curry-soup bite, an explanation of the wines, and little note cards with gold pencils. She then pointed to the note cards and said, “I’ll leave you to process the experience of our passed apps.”
“Shall we try the momos first?” Jehan beamed over at them and scooped up a vegan dumpling, prompting Sam and Duke to do the same.
For his part, Travis reached for a curry-soup bite, and the four of them all nodded and got to work on their respective choices. Sam watched Duke’s and Jehan’s eyes go wide as they all experienced what could only be described as utter deliciousness.
“Oh, these are—”
Travis barked out a cough, interrupting Jehan, then reached for his first glass of white wine. Downing the glass in a single gulp, he wheezed, “The curry is spicy.”
“Do you want some water?” Duke said, pointing to the glass in front of him as Travis reached for the red that was on the table.
Draining half that glass, Travis’s face began to turn an uncomfortable-looking shade of pink as he said, “I’ll be fine. But we can’t serve those.”
Taking in the crestfallen look on her friend’s face, Sam said, “Right. Maybe the three of us will try them, and you can have a momo. Then we’ll all make notes before we try the other two appetizers. How does that sound?”
“Works for me,” Duke said, his gaze darting back and forth between Jehan and Travis. While the three of them grabbed their curry-soup bites, Duke continued, “So, Travis, last time we saw you, you were looking at banking policy. You still working on that?”
Sam tried to focus on not dumping the admittedly awkwardly plated bit of food everywhere while half listening to Travis as he talked about his client, a national bank chain, who was trying to ascertain the effects of a potential new banking law on their business. As far as Sam could tell, it sounded terrible for consumers but good for banks, which, Travis informed them, was actually good for him as well.
“A happy client is a happy analyst,” he said, then polished off his second glass of wine.
“Makes sense,” Duke said, taking overly careful notes with his pencil.
“Wonder if they’d give us a bit more of the white? I didn’t really get to taste it because of the overkill curry,” Travis announced, and Sam thought that he seemed like the kind of guy who talked loudly on the phone at work so people would think he was important.
“You can have some of mine,” Jehan said, smiling as she handed him her still-half-full glass. “Gotta pace myself if there is a pairing for every course.”
“You’re so small; it’s not like you can hold much liquor,” Travis joked, and all of them laughed for possibly the first time since he’d flown in last night.
As if sensing they were ready for the next course, Stephanie and the cadre of servers reappeared with two miniature entrées plus another two glasses of wine.
“First we have a traditional stuffed acorn squash with a brown sugar glaze that has just a hint of black pepper and cloves. Then we have our Better Than Meat filet mignon with a mushroom-based sauce and shishito pepper and cauliflower puree. And of course a red and a white for each. Enjoy.”
Duke waited until the staff was gone before eyeing the steak. “And here I thought nothing could top the brisket-bite appetizer.”
“I’d be shocked if it didn’t,” Travis grumbled. So far, he hadn’t been a fan of any of their options, which seemed absurd to Sam since he was the vegan at the table.
“Come on, Trav. Will you just try?” Jehan said, rolling her eyes. Sam wasn’t sure she had ever seen her roommate truly irritated, and that included the time Duke had accidentally burned popcorn in the microwave and woken them all up at 4:00 a.m. after Jehan had pulled two long shifts in a row.
“I’m only trying for you, babe,” Travis said, half grinning through gritted teeth as he reached for the red wine in front of him.
Sam didn’t love the tone or the volume of his comment and had opened her mouth to say as much when she caught Duke giving her a microshake of his head and remembered her promise. Duke was right. She wasn’t the one marrying Travis. Jehan was smart and grown, and she could speak for herself. Deciding to ignore the comment, Sam said, “Do we want to start with the stuffed squash first?”
“Yes. Let’s try that first,” Jehan said, her words a little too excited to be sincere. “So Sam is in charge of the doula program I mentioned,” she said, trying to move the conversation to safer ground.
“Oh, really? Jehan talks about that thing nonstop,” Travis said, looking a little red in the face.
“That’s me,” Sam said, trying not to gobble down the entire scrumptious acorn squash in one bite. “I have to say, none of this would have been possible without Jehan’s grant-writing expertise. She is such a pro.”
“Huh. So tell me what it’s all about again.” Travis’s words came out a little fuzzy. Although Sam wasn’t sure if that was because of the black pepper in the squash or if it was the wine he had finished. At some point, he had clearly forgotten that he had polished off his red and inadvertently taken Duke’s nearly full glass. A mistake her friend didn’t bother to correct.
“Really, it’s just about putting the person giving birth at the center of our care,” Sam said, firing up her elevator pitch. By now, she had given it enough times that she was actually starting to get good at it. While Duke and Jehan threw in bits and pieces about the program, Stephanie and the team reappeared to whisk their plates away. For his part, Travis asked surprisingly thoughtful questions about their work in between writing notes about the food—which were mostly just frowny faces—and finishing off Duke’s red wine.
“So that’s what the program is all about,” Sam said, right as two mini cakes and two dessert wines appeared in front of them.
“Sounds like a lot of work. Is the hospital paying you all extra for this?” Travis asked, gesturing around at the group with his glass.
“Well, no. But ultimately if Sam’s theory is correct, her research will lighten our schedules and ensure that we aren’t having to see patients for questions that really could, and often should, be answered by someone else,” Duke said diplomatically.
“And it isn’t that much work when you have such wonderful friends to help,” Sam said, picking up her glass and moving it out of Travis’s reach before she suffered the same tragedy as Duke.
“Really, it’s good to put my skills to use, and you have been such a help with this wedding stuff.” Jehan smiled and took a sip of her own sweet wine.
“Did she pick this restaurant, because this cake is dry as—”
“Travis, can you please stop complaining?” Jehan said, her tone quiet but firm.
For a moment everyone at the table was silent as some sort of unspoken showdown between the engaged couple took place. With each passing second, Jehan’s eyes seemed to get wider while Travis’s face got redder until he finally said, “I don’t understand why we can’t do this in DC. You say you are going to come back, but when? You’re building entire programs at the hospital with your new friends. That doesn’t sound like you are coming back. Our whole lives are there, and—”
“Travis, please. I think you have had one too many. Let’s talk about this—”
“I don’t think you’re even serious about us.” Travis’s voice almost echoed off the blue walls, and Sam was sure the entire staff of Dorothy’s could hear their fight.
“Not serious? We are literally in the middle of a catering tasting for an engagement party that is extremely important to my entire family.” Jehan gestured to herself but didn’t raise her voice. If she weren’t in the middle of an argument, Sam would have given her a high five for standing her ground.
“If the party is so important, why haven’t you sent out the save-the-dates?” Travis growled. “My mom said she still hasn’t gotten hers.”
That made Sam’s ears perk up. She had sent those out weeks ago, and she knew that for a fact.
“Your mother is so rigid. Are you sure she didn’t just receive it on a day that she doesn’t check the mail?” Jehan rolled her eyes as Travis’s face turned beet red.
“My mother—”
“You know, I think we could all use a walk right now.” This came from Duke, who still had a bite of cake sitting on his fork. He didn’t yell, but his usually joyful demeanor was dead serious, and he was sitting at his full height. “Travis, why don’t you go one way. Jehan, you go another, and once cooler heads have prevailed, you two can talk this out.”
Travis glared at the table for a second before standing abruptly. His chair scraped across the tile as he said, “I think that is a good idea. Jehan, I hope you’ll give some thought to what I’ve said.” With that, he huffed out of the room. His slightly wobbly walk would have been funny if he hadn’t been actively stomping to try to create resonance with his footsteps.
The three of them waited until the restaurant door slammed before making eye contact. For a moment they were all silent, until Jehan exhaled, dropping her head into her hands and mumbling, “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Oh, don’t be. Lots of couples fight before big things like weddings,” Duke said, standing up to come around the table. “You want a hug?”
“Yes, please,” Jehan said, her voice pitiful and shaky.
“If you want, I’ll take the cards over to Stephanie and the team so they can finalize the menu,” Sam said, looking at her small friend as she buried her face in Duke’s sweater.
“Thank you both. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You did just fine, and you’d do just fine,” Duke said, nodding at Sam to indicate that he would smooth things over while she handled the caterer.
“All right. Be right back. Then we can all hug while we wait for a car,” Sam said, eliciting a weak laugh from her friend. Collecting the cards from the table, she began the walk to where she assumed the kitchen was, trying all the while not to mumble curses at Travis. It was one thing to say she’d lied about sending out the invites. It was another to ruin a perfectly good meal and her friend’s day while he did it.
Sam’s palms felt sweaty as she looked around the new SF Central Community Birthing Center, a mixture of pride and terror working her stomach into the kind of knots sailors would be proud of. The walls had been painted a bright, clean white, and with the combination of the chaplain’s encouraging posters, baby charts, and some quilts that Kaiya had brought in, Sam had to admit that it didn’t look too shabby.
Any moment now, Kaiya’s doulas would come in for their orientation; then she and the rest of the clinical team at the hospital would spend time going over each patient’s file so that the doulas knew what concerns each doctor had.
“There,” Grant said, lightly placing the last of the tablets on each of the six desks. “These should be all charged and ready for everyone to log in.”
The knot in Sam’s stomach flipped over as Grant walked toward her. Since the last time they’d been in this room, she hadn’t found herself alone with him. Not that she was avoiding him. It had just been an eventful few days. And once she thought about it more, she was almost convinced that nothing truly significant had happened. Otherwise, Grant would’ve been acting strange around her. As it was, he was acting no odder than usual.
“Thank you for doing that,” Sam said.
“Theo did most of the work. Pretty sure he hogged every plug in the nurses’ station and then some,” Grant laughed. Taking a deep breath, he rolled his shoulders forward a fraction of an inch and said, “So I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Hello, hello, hello, lovely people! Look who I found in the parking lot.” Kaiya’s voice boomed down the hall as she walked toward them, a gaggle of people behind her. “It’s our prime cohort of doulas.”
“Hello,” Grant said, giving everyone a short wave, his demeanor shifting as he set aside whatever he’d been about to say to her.
“Welcome,” Sam said as the gears in her mind whirled with the details for today.
“Everyone, I’m delighted to introduce Dr. Gao, the center’s senior adviser. And this right here is Dr. Holbrook, the architect of our wonderful program,” Kaiya said, taking a step back to better see the whole group, then added, “If you each want to pick a desk and grab a tablet, then come back over, Sam and I will run down the day’s plan. Also, I have name tags until your badges come in.”
With that, a flurry of activity broke out across the room, and whatever Grant wanted to say was officially pushed to the side of Sam’s mind to make room for nerves as the program’s corresponding physicians began to arrive, including Dr. Franklin. A small piece of Sam wished that he had volunteered to go in a later phase of the program, after they had a chance to work the kinks out and get into a rhythm with the group. Unfortunately, Jehan and Duke had informed her that there was no nice way to tell Dr. Franklin that while everyone appreciated his support, his presence made them nervous, so could he please not try to be supportive.
“Are you ready to start?” Grant said, giving her an encouraging smile as people began to gather around.
“I was born ready,” Sam whispered instinctively.
Humor played with the corners of Grant’s mouth. His smile had a calming effect on Sam. If nothing else, at least she could count on their inside jokes today.
Nodding to Kaiya, Sam felt her lungs expand as she took a deep breath, then called to the room, “All right, let’s get started.”
Sam wasn’t sure what she had expected, but dead silence and roughly ten sets of eager eyes on her—plus Dr. Franklin’s half-skeptical expression—were what she got. Clearing her throat, she said, “So I want to start by thanking you all for coming. I know everyone here is passionate about our community and has a deep sense that we can create an even better way to care for pregnant people. I also want to extend my most sincere and special thanks to Kaiya Owens. Her knowledge has been indispensable.”
Sam paused to grin at Kaiya while the gathering clapped. Kaiya smiled, then rearranged the front of her yellow sweater set in an effort to not look too flattered. Finally, she waved her hand at Sam. “Go on.”
“As you will have read in the email, we have paired each doula with a doctor or midwife who is in charge of the patients’ primary clinical care here at SF Central. Our hope is that we can arrange these twenty-minute meetings once a month where provider pairs can briefly go over the patients’ charts and birthing center notes so that each provider can assist the other in meeting the patients’ needs. On the tablets the hospital provided, each doula should be able to log in and see their patient list. Just tap the name, and their chart should come up. From there, y’all are off to the races. You’ll have about a half hour to speak, and then our patients will arrive so they can get to know our doulas. Any questions?”
“What do we do if we have a patient ask us about joining the program in a couple of weeks? Would that be too late?” Dr. Choi called from the back.
Kaiya glanced over at Sam, confirming that she would field the question, then began to explain the enrollment options. With the sound of Kaiya’s voice as a backdrop, Sam felt her nerves start to unwind. The program was officially underway, and even better, the doctors were asking encouraging and even excited questions about the long-term potential of the program. She had been nervous about Dr. Franklin’s presence, but maybe it was good for him to see how the other doctors viewed this. Now he knew that it wasn’t just Sam on a soapbox. Other people supported this idea too.
“All right, if there are no more questions, let’s get going,” Kaiya cheered, then whipped out her tablet and marched right toward Dr. Choi, who still had more questions.
