Page 11 of The Doctor's Simple Life

“Yes. I said, ‘I don’t like this. I want to listen to something else.’ So we’re listening to something else. What is your problem?”

“What ismyproblem?” she scoffs, shaking her head.

I wait for her to launch another criticism at me, but nothing comes. Good. I’ve already been arguing with her all day, and I don’t feel like doing it anymore. I just sit at my desk and force myself to shovel the slop into my mouth.

It’s not even like I can go into town for better food options. There’s one devastatingly bad Mexican restaurant, an Italian that serves subpar pizza, and a burger joint that has three things on the menu, two of which are cheeseburgers, and the other one is a double cheeseburger.

I already thought small towns were bad, but this is doing nothing to make me like them more.

And then Sienna gets up and changes the radio station again.

She’s not helping me like this place any better.

In my usual experience, beautiful women are lovely people, always falling over themselves to try and get your attention. I guess it’s different in the country. I don’t think Sienna has smiled at me once and meant it.

It’s a shame, really. She would be gorgeous if she did.

But no. She doesn’t. Instead, she’s miserable, and I’m trapped here in the dark ages, forced to get people to sign paper intake forms, forced to use a pen, forced to use an actual tunable radio to listen to some godawful guy with a guitar crooning on about tractors.

And this is just three days in. The next twenty-seven are going to be a nightmare.

CHAPTER 6

SIENNA

The end of the week crawls around. I’m exhausted. I knew that the managerial role was going to come with more responsibilities and more work to do, but I never expected those responsibilities to include babysitting a guy who sulks the second anything doesn’t go his way.

I’ve never met anyone so childish. I’ve never met anyone so unaware of other people and uncaring towards their feelings.

“And then he was so rude!” I sigh before taking another big mouthful of Gramma’s lasagna.

She’s the greatest cook on earth. She has the patience of a saint. She’s the best.

If she told me to stop complaining about Reece again, I’d get it. She’d be well within her rights. But she hasn’t. Instead, she just lets me get it all off my chest.

“I’ve told him so many times this week that he has to be polite to our patients, that they expect a different level of care, different than anything he’s used to, but it’s like I’m talking to a brick wall. He just won’t listen.”

“There just ain’t telling some people nothing,” says Gramma, smiling sympathetically at me. “It sounds like he’s a real piece of work.”

“I don’t know why I agreed to babysit him. I’ve never felt like I hated my job more.”

“Now, don’t say things like that. You don’t really hate it, do you?”

I sigh a long, hard sigh. “No, I love nursing. I just don’t love his attitude.”

“You get rotten apples in every barrel. Looks like you’ve found yours. Sometimes, you just have to endure the challenges. You’re being tested, honey, but I have faith you’ll come out of it stronger than ever.”

“I hope so.” I close my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. She’s right. I can endure this. I have no choice but to. “I love you, Gramma.”

“And I love you, sweetie, forever and always.”

Every time I talk to her, a renewed sense of calm washes over me. I’m sure she’s glad to see me, but I feel like I’ve been bothering her every day this week with this relentless complaining about my job. I hate sounding so negative, but Reece is making my life hell.

She says she never has a problem making dinner for her favorite granddaughter, but sometimes I feel so guilty about imposing on her. She’s got her own life to consider without me forcing myself upon her all the time. Gramma raised me, after all. She’s done more than enough.

On Tuesday, I came up for dinner and ended up eating with the entire bridge club. Not that that was a problem. I’ve known those women since I was a baby, too. My grandmother has always been a champion bridge player. She tried to teach me the game when I was younger, but I never quite picked it up like she did.

Sometimes I feel like I’m in the way.

---