Page 28 of A Hidden Hope

During the lunch break the following day, Evie found Charlie in the garden level’s tiny office, looking rumpled and adorable, with textbooks sprawled across the desk.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I can’t make out your handwriting on this script for Silas Yoder.

He called in about needing something for a rash. ”

She glanced at the barely legible cursive and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe ... you might want to write in all caps.”

He sat back in his chair. “Noted,” he said, sounding genuinely appreciative of the suggestion, as if the thought had never dawned on him before. It was one of the things she liked about him. He was so open to new ideas that improved things. No. Ideas that improved him . Coachable Charlie.

She looked past him at the stack of books on the top of the desk. “What’s all this?”

“Cram time,” he said, lifting one of the books. “Wren keeps reminding me that board exams are right around the corner.”

“When’s the exam?”

“End of August. Too soon for me, not soon enough for Wren.” He shot Evie a wry grin. “I’ve never been much of a test-taker. Frankly, I’ve never been one of those guys who loves school. Or books, for that matter. Takes me too long to read.”

“But you’re a med school grad. You must’ve done something right.”

“Well, just barely. I have Wren to thank for that. She basically tutored me through medical school.”

Another Wren reference. A significant one.

Those were the moments when Evie felt confused, to say the least. Obviously, Charlie and Wren had history. But were they a couple?

She could just ask. But she couldn’t make herself.

Probably because she didn’t want to know the answer.

“I really just scraped by,” he said with a smirk. “I’m living proof that miracles happen.”

Evie crossed her arms, leaning against the doorjamb. “You know, most people don’t even get this far.”

He looked at her, a hint of appreciation in his eyes. “True. But there’s always another mountain, and right now, it’s called the final board exam.”

“I thought the pass rate was pretty high—96 to 98 percent?”

Charlie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, and I seem to always be in that 2 to 4 percent that gives statisticians something to talk about. Wren’s been reminding me of that too.”

Evie’s heart softened at the sight of him, hunched over the cluttered desk, struggling to focus. He looked so scruffy, so earnest, and yet so defeated. She hesitated, then offered, “Maybe ... I could help?”

His head snapped up, eyes bright with hope. “Really? You’d do that? Be my study partner?”

Was he kidding? She was practically doing cartwheels—though only in her head, of course. She shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure. It’d be good for me too. You know, lifelong learning and all that.”

He leaped up and dashed past her, returning with a chair from the waiting room. With an exaggerated flourish, he set it down. “Your throne awaits, m’lady,” he said.

She couldn’t help but laugh as she took the seat next to him. Their shoulders brushed as he shifted the book to rest between them, and she suddenly wished she’d taken the time to wash her hair this morning instead of just throwing it into a ponytail.

At the end of their lunch hour, he closed the book and looked at her with such genuine admiration that she felt a sudden warmth creeping up her neck. “You’re really something, you know?”

But she wasn’t.

And yet he made her feel so special. It was new to her, having someone view her as extraordinary. A man someone, especially.

So another routine started to take shape, where Evie and Charlie would have lunch together when the office closed for a break—which only happened when Dok and Wren were out on calls.

Evie’d quiz him on whatever he was studying that day—whether it was the cardiac cycle, pharmacology, or pathophysiology—and found herself enjoying it more than she expected.

It wasn’t just about being around Charlie, though that was definitely part of it.

Most of it. But she was soaking up knowledge too, and what he was expected to know went way beyond what she’d learned for her nursing school exams. It was fascinating, even if it was all theory and not the hands-on patient care she was used to.

Still, there was so much to be learned through hands-on experience, beyond what a textbook could teach, or even observing another doctor.

You just had to do things to get the feel of them, even something as simple as giving a flu shot.

The first time she’d handed an injection needle to Charlie, she assumed he knew how to hold it.

Not so! She stopped him right away. “Hold the needle at a ninety-degree angle, and make sure to inject quickly and smoothly,” she had said.

“That creates the least discomfort to the patient.”

Like always, Charlie was quick to listen and make adjustments—then he’d thank her for pointing out the needed correction. It never failed to surprise her how open he was to being taught, especially when she thought about how Wren usually reacted to Evie’s suggestions—so eye rolly.

After every lunch study session, Charlie would shower Evie with gratitude, telling her how much he appreciated their time together.

She loved spending that time with him, but the more she did, the harder it was to keep her feelings in check.

And whenever he tossed out a significant Wren reference, which he did quite often, she just wasn’t sure that this was good for her.

Late in the day, instead of heading home when the last patient left, Annie knocked on Dok’s office door. She’d been dreading this conversation for months, but now she was dreading it for a different reason. Ich wees net wu mir der Kopp schteht. I am at a loss to know what to do.

Dok glanced up, immediately noticing Annie’s discomfort. “What’s up? You look a little pale. Are you sick?”

Annie shook her head. “My EMT final exam is coming up.”

“Oh, right!” Dok leaned back in her chair. “Oh ... right.” She rubbed her forehead. “You’re here to give me your leave of notice, aren’t you?”

Not exactly. Annie took a shaky breath. “There’s a tiny glitch.”

“Come in and sit down.”

Annie sat down in the chair, fidgeting with the edges of her apron. “As a child, I suffered from severe motion sickness. I thought I had outgrown it, until ... that day with you ... when you drove me home after work on a Saturday...”

Dok gasped. “I remember. I knew something was wrong with you!”

“I thought it was just your wild driving—”

“I don’t drive wild.”

But she did. Everyone knew that about Dok.

Annie kept her eyes on her hands, wrapped up in her apron.

“So I did some tests. I’ve been taking bus rides during lunch .

.. and now ... it seems that it wasn’t just because of your wi—uh, your driving.

It just keeps getting worse.” She glanced up at Dok and suddenly felt she may not be able to control her tears.

She’d tried to be stoic through this ordeal, but in the face of Dok’s obvious concern, she could barely keep herself from falling apart.

This must be what it felt like to be Dok’s patient.

Her eyes were on Annie with such a focused intensity, full of empathy, like nothing was more important in the world right now than this conversation.

“I don’t know how I can be an EMT with this”—she patted her abdomen—“problem.”

Dok’s brow furrowed. “Are the symptoms mild?”

Annie shook her head.

“How bad?”

“Really, really bad,” she whispered, clamping a hand against her mouth to stop a sob from escaping.

Dok cleared her throat. “What are the symptoms?”

Annie took a moment to shove down her emotions. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her apron and took in a deep breath before answering Dok’s question. “Dizziness, nausea, fainting, vomiting. As long as I’m in a moving vehicle that goes faster than a horse and buggy, I can’t even function.”

“What about afterward?”

“I’ve had to sit down on the side of the road for a long time. Usually, I’ve—” Annie started to feel her face grow warm. “I’ve gotten sick.”

“How long does it take to recover?”

“At least an hour, but usually a couple of hours. Sometimes, it’s taken the rest of the day before I feel completely steady again. And I always end up with a headache.”

“Oh Annie,” Dok said, her voice full of empathy. “I’d hoped you were going to say ten or fifteen minutes.”

“That,” Annie said, “would be lovely.”

“What have you tried?”

“All kinds of treatments—wrist pressure points, breathing exercises, ginger. Nothing’s helped.”

Dok nodded thoughtfully. “When is it worse? In the morning or afternoon? Any specific triggers?”

Annie shook her head. “I can’t pinpoint any triggers. It just ... happens whenever the bus or car gets going, speeding up, then my stomach starts churning. Then I get hot or cold or both, and woozy ... and then...” She imitated yanking on the cord for the bus driver to pull over.

Dok considered this for a moment. “What happens when you use Dramamine?”

“I haven’t. I don’t want to rely on medication.”

“It’s available over the counter.”

Annie shook her head firmly. “Not over the counter. Not under the counter. No drugs.”

“But why? I could provide a letter for your future employer. I can explain your situation.”

“Thank you, but I prefer not to depend on medication.” Her voice sounded surprisingly firm, even to her own ears.

Dok tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the desk. “And this happens every single time?”

“There was one time when I didn’t feel sick,” Annie said. “Last winter, when Sarah Blank fell through the ice and had to be taken to the hospital by ambulance.”

“And you didn’t feel sick on that drive? Why do you think that was?”

“The ambulance wasn’t speeding, but...” Annie hesitated, her cheeks flushing as she focused on the tops of her shoes. “There was a very nice EMT in the ambulance with Sarah.”

One of Dok’s eyebrows arched. “Is this the same very nice EMT who frequently visits the office?”