“This is Nick.”
There was a slight hesitation before Shelly spoke. “Hi, Nick, this
is Dr. Shelly White. Do you have a few minutes?” “Funny, that’s what I said this morning.”
“I know, and I want to apologize for this morning. I was taken off guard. I just didn’t expect to see you in the parking lot. It was only seven a.m. That’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”
Nick stared out the window. “Yes, Dr. White. A little strange.
Perhaps a little crazy too.”
“Well, the thought did cross my mind,” she said, a somewhat jovial tone to her voice. “Nick, I focus so much on my work here, I tend to avoid anything else. I haven’t dated much because I really haven’t had any luck at dating, and since my mom died, I tend to avoid anything that takes me away from the kids.”
“I understand, but life is too short. In any moment, anyone can just disappear,” said Nick. “I’m sure you see that almost daily. I thought I learned that when my brother died, but when my mom died suddenly it made me realize how temporary life is.”
“I lost my mother too. Suddenly.” “I’m sorry,” Nick said softly.
“They found her in the backyard. She had been there all night. We lived in a very rural part of Georgia.” She paused, then continued with a catch in her voice. “She was hanging clothes on the line and had a massive myocardial infarction. We had her on all sorts of meds, but she always said she felt fine and as long as she knew I was okay, she was okay. When our neighbor found her, he called me, so I called Dr. Wall. He and his wife, Dottie, met me at the funeral home. He is my rock and Dottie is like a mom to me. And Doris, I think you may have met her the other night, well, she’s like a sister to me. A big sister. That’s my family. And the kids. You know, every time I lose one of these kids, I feel so helpless. Dr. Wall is the same way. I guess I get a little guarded when something or someone gets between me and our kids. So seeing you trying to get close to me made me a little defensive.”
Nick understood. He knew from personal experience the pain of losing somebody.
“The reason why I’m alive,” she continued, “was Mom’s decision to get me to St. Theresa’s. I came here in ’72. I was just eight