Page 8 of A Hidden Hope

Late in the day, after the last patient had been seen and Annie had gone home, Charlie asked Dok to follow him down the interior staircase that led to the basement.

Once there, he tugged on the light fixture’s pull chain and gestured animatedly around the room as he explained his vision.

“This space has so much potential. It’s big, it’s dry, there’s good lighting and ventilation.

You could easily divide it up into several rooms for your practice.

Framing, drywall, run a few wires for electricity—it’s not expensive construction. ”

Charlie’s plans for the basement took Dok by surprise.

Her curiosity was piqued. She’d always wanted to expand the building and create more usable space, but she thought she’d have to push out with an addition.

Matt had even gone so far as to sketch some ideas to take to contractors for bidding.

However, their never-finished house remodel took precedence, and the office redo slipped to the back of the shelf. Or maybe fell off it.

But they had talked about it. They’d even set money aside for it.

She and Matt had never considered doing something with the basement. It was a very good idea and much simpler than the plans for the addition. Use what was already here. Such an obvious solution to Dok’s growing lack-of-space crunch. How had this never occurred to them?

Probably because no one went into the basement unless it was absolutely necessary. Dok didn’t even like to put supplies down there. Too dank, too moldy, too much evidence of mice. Yes, this might be the way to go.

“I can do all the labor for free,” Charlie said.

Dok found that very appealing. “Do you actually have any experience with construction?”

“Tons of it,” Charlie said, waving his hand in an I’ve-got-it-covered way.

“Basic construction, I mean. My dad worked in construction, so every summer of my life since I was fourteen was spent on a jobsite. We’d get someone with experience in for plumbing and electricity, but I can frame and drywall in my sleep.

” His gaze swept the room. “Besides, this project is pretty simple.”

“Simple?” Dok said.

“Not easy, but simple.” He walked to a small door. “Like, there’s already plumbing down here. Even the makings of a very small bathroom.” That was a generous term for a tiny closet of a bathroom, studiously avoided by Dok.

She walked around the large room, then stopped as she faced the stairs. “Charlie, I have to admit I like what you’re proposing. But I’m worried it would still feel like a basement. For example, I can’t ask patients to go down these steep steps.”

Charlie held up a finger in the air. “I have a solution for that. It wouldn’t take much to reconfigure the cellar door into a full-sized exterior door.

There’d still be a few steps to walk down to reach the office, but no one would have to duck to enter like they do now.

I admit that it wouldn’t work for a wheelchair, but you have a ramp upstairs for patients in wheelchairs. ”

Interesting. Quite interesting. But Charlie acting as the contractor? Maybe she should talk to Matt and see about finding an experienced contractor to do it. She frowned. And that would probably mean it would get added to the list of things they didn’t have time to do.

“And here’s something else we thought of.”

Dok spun around to see Wren standing halfway down the steps. So this brainstorm belonged to them both?

“Anyone who is actively ill,” Wren said, “could be seen down here, so your waiting room isn’t a petri dish of germs like it is now.”

Dok tried not to take offense at that. “Seems the two of you have put a lot of thought into this project.”

“Well,” Wren said, walking down the rest of the steps to join them, “it seems the two of us might end up having a surfeit of spare time. Especially if you aren’t letting us accompany you on house calls.” There was an odd pause as the attention in the room swung in Wren’s direction.

Dok knew what was behind her sharp comment.

In the middle of the afternoon, she’d been called out again on a house call to an Amish farm.

Wren and Charlie were left at the office with nothing much to do but twiddle their thumbs.

“Yesterday, on the way to Fern’s from the train station, I thought you mentioned something about needing time to study for the boards. They’re at the end of August, right?”

Wren frowned.

Dok had her there. She turned around in a slow circle.

Converting the basement into usable space was quite appealing to her, for all the right reasons.

Plus, it could buy her some time, keeping Wren and Charlie occupied, while she figured out how she was going to be able to supervise them, because right now she had absolutely no idea how to fit them into her schedule.

She was so accustomed to being a lone ranger, she just didn’t know how to accommodate two residents.

And then there was this —they both hadn’t matched.

She couldn’t get that out of her head. She had no confidence in them. She needed time.

A smile started. This was starting to all click into place. Two birds, one stone. Dok turned to Charlie. “Go for it.”

“Go for it?” Charlie said.

“Go for it. Everything you talked about. Draw up the plans, get the permits, and get started.”

“All of it?” Charlie raised his eyebrows. “Including the redo of the front door, the creation of an exam room, and updating the bathroom?”

“All of it. But I don’t want to know anything about it until it’s completed. You act as the general contractor. All decisions are your responsibility.” She clapped her hands together. “And once it’s done, the residency program can get underway.”

“What?” Wren stared at Dok. “That could take weeks!”

Which was what Dok hoped for. She lifted her palms. “It’ll give you all the time you need to study for your boards.

And when it’s completed, there will be plenty of space for everyone to work.

We’ll be ready to roll forward with your residency.

” She took a few steps up the basement steps, then stopped and looked at Charlie.

“You can give the bills to Annie for reimbursement.” She started up the stairs again.

“Dok! Just one more thing,” Charlie said. “No budget?”

Dok stopped and spun around, her expression firm but amused. “Yes. Always.”

By day’s end, Evie felt exhausted. She was relieved when Dok offered to give them a ride back to Windmill Farm. “Scooters in the back,” she said, lifting the back door of her SUV.

“Thank goodness,” Wren said, under her breath. She was not a fan of scooters as the means of transportation. Buggies either. She claimed the front passenger seat.

Evie and Charlie buckled up in the back seat, so close their elbows touched. It was like the air around them was vibrating.

“So, day one is done,” he said. “It was a good day. A great day.”

Evie looked at him in wonder. From her point of view, she thought he’d had a terrible day.

She had heard Dok snap harshly at Charlie and Wren for overstepping their bounds with Sarah Blank, then with Annie’s mother, and now he’d offered to renovate the basement because Dok wasn’t quite prepared to start the residency program.

Nothing much happened today that had anything to do with being supervised as a resident doctor.

And yet he considered his first day as a great day.

This guy was like Teflon. Nothing seemed to faze him.

Nothing ruffled him. Consistent Charlie .

As soon as Dok hit an open stretch, she floored the gas, sending the car flying down the country road.

Charlie had his window down, while Evie kept hers up, but it didn’t matter—her ponytail was still whipping around like it had a mind of its own.

The wind roared so loudly that Wren’s endless stream of medical questions to Dok was mercifully drowned out.

At one point, Charlie shot Evie a grin and leaned in to whisper, “Doctor by day, race car driver by night.” A laugh burst out of Evie. Spot-on.

Dok’s drive from Lancaster Train Station had been a blur of highways and tailgating, matching the flow of traffic.

But country roads? Dok’s speed jumped from fast to hold-on-to-your-hat fast. She took every curve with the kind of precision that suggested she knew these roads like the back of her hand.

As the car swerved and jolted, each sharp turn sent Evie bumping into Charlie—or Charlie into her. Not that she minded. Nope. Not one bit.