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As I headed inside the older building, a woman at the information desk asked, May I help you, sir?”
She was probably a volunteer, so I kept it short and simple. “I’d like to talk to accounting about a patient.” This was too important to leave to anyone else.
She directed me to Account Services, across from the door to the left and all the way down the corridor. The halls were darker and made of brick, with bright lights overhead. I walked to the accounting department and identified myself to the staff.
A moment later, a hospital administrator named Judy Starr rushed out of a small office and invited me into their conference room. As we sat, I was offered tea and water. She asked, “So, Mr. Norouzi, how can I help you?”
I folded my hands on the table. For the first time in a long time, I hoped people knew I had serious money—although no amount of money could fix cancer. “You have an Abigail Lawson in the cancer wing. I’d like you to direct all future payment to me right away.”
She blinked and opened a tablet. “She’s under a managed-care account.”
I sat back. “For the honor, I will also make a sizeable donation to the cancer wing. I’ll want one of my doctors to be consulted for the best treatment available.”
She nodded. “Let me talk to her doctors.”
“I’ll wait.” I stared at her.
A minute later, she jumped and spoke to someone on her cell phone. I breathed a little easier when Ms. Starr said, “Right. So, Abigail Lawson is to be treated as a VIP from this second on. Her account has been upgraded.”
Now Avril would never lack funds for her sister’s treatment. If there was a cure, Abigail would have it. I said, “I’ll need you to refund her sister all cash payments, and you’re to mark it as overpaid and return to sender. I’ll pay that and more.”
“Done.” She typed in her computer. I handed her wire information for the family and for my mother’s cancer foundation. Once all the papers were signed and dotted, Judy Starr said, “And Abigail is requesting to speak to you.”
I raised my eyebrow. “She knows I’m talking to you?”
“Yes. The nurses told her a donation was made in her name, and she’s asking questions.”
I stood. “Thank you. What room?”
“Room 330, third floor, where she’ll be until we get her to the corner room.”
Any small upgrades would help with the stress and with keeping her calm. I said goodbye, followed signs for the cancer ward, and continued until I found her room. The door was open, but I knocked anyhow.
A woman with Avril’s blue eyes and no hair asked, “Are you my mystery benefactor?”
I saw the seat next to her bed and moved to it. “You’re Abigail Lawson?”
She pointed for me to sit. “Yeah. Call me Abby.” Once I was settled, she asked, “So, why are you helping me?”
I refused to blink. I was there to help Avril and her sister. “Because cancer shouldn’t cost anyone money.”
Her eyes were wide and seemed protruding. “So, you’re donating to all the patients?”
I shook my head and folded my hands. “The entire department is getting updated on my dime.”
She blinked. “So you’re just a rich guy looking for tax breaks?”
Time to be honest. I swallowed. “I am getting them, in helping you, but your sister?—”
“Avril is not going to be used for sex or something sordid like that because of me.” She looked like she would jump out of her bed if she could.
My eyes widened, and I shook my head fast. “No, nothing like that. I respect Avril, and I know she loves you. Honestly, she’s the sweetest woman I’ve met in a long while.”
She relaxed and smiled. “So you like her?”
She reminded me more of Avril with that shy smile of hers. “Yes, and so do my mother and father.”
“That’s good to hear.” She sipped her water. “She hasn’t mentioned that she was dating anyone.”
