Little Mim raised her hand. Bruce acknowledged her.
"While I am not defending the hospital, this is true. One of my goals as a board member and your next mayor"-she paused to smile reflectively-"will be to raise the money privately for a new wing to be built."
"Thank you." Herb's gravelly voice was warm. He was amused at her campaigning.
"It is true," Bruce agreed, "but if we could bring people in on the off hours, before eight A.M. or after three P.M., we might at least be able to use equipment for tests. I know there is no way we will get hospital beds. Which brings me to the third area of concern voiced by the administration, the use of hospital equipment. The increased wear and tear on equipment, whether it's IVAC units, X-ray machines, whatever, will raise hospital operating costs. The budget can't absorb the increases." He breathed in. "That's where we are today. Obviously, Sam and Jordan don't want to give us a flat no. They are too politically astute for that. But there is no question in my mind that they evidence a profound lack of enthusiasm for our purpose."
The room fell silent, a silence punctuated when the door to the rectory was again opened and closed. The sound of a coat being removed, placed on the coatrack was heard.
Tussie Logan, face drawn, stepped into the room. "Sorry."
"Come on in. We know your time isn't always your own." Herb genially beckoned to her. "Bruce has just given us his progress report."
"Or lack thereof," Bruce forthrightly said. "Tussie, you look tired."
Bruce slid his chair over so she could wedge in between himself and BoomBoom.
"One of my kids, Dodie Santana, the little girl from Guatemala, had a bad day."
"We're sorry." Herb spoke for the group.
"We'll do a prayer vigil for her," Miranda volunteered.
"Thank you." Tussie smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"I'm glad you did." Larry lightened the mood. "It means I'm not the last one to the meeting."
"Back to business then." Herb turned to Bruce. "Can we get access to the hospital's insurance policy?"
"Yes. I don't think Sam would refuse that," Bruce replied.
"But who would understand it?" Larry said, half in jest. "I can't even understand the one Hayden and I have for the practice."
"I believe Ned Tucker will help us there." Herb watched as both Cazenovia and Elocution paraded into the room. "Harry?"
"I'll call him." She volunteered to ring up Susan's husband, a man well liked by all except those who crossed him in court.
"Bruce and I have spoken about this," Tussie joined in, "and-there's no way to delicately put this. Jordan Ivanic fears poor patients will steal-not just drugs, mind you, which would be most people's first thought, oh no, he thinks they'll steal toilet paper, pencils, you name it."
"He said that?" Harry was upset.
Cazzie jumped in her lap, which made her feel better. Elocution headed straight for Herb.
"Yes. Flat out said it." Tussie tapped her foot on the floor.
"My experience is the biggest thieves are the rich." Bruce rubbed his chin, perceived the frown on Little Mim's face, and hastened to add, "Think of Mike Milken, all those Wall Street traders."
"Well, I think I'd better call upon Sam and Jordan." Herb petted his youngest cat, who purred loudly.
"Meow." Elocution closed her eyes.
Bruce said, "I've been able to secure the cooperation of at least one physician in each department. Our problem now is convincing Sam Mahanes to use a portion of the hospital, even a room, to initially screen these people.
"He did voice one other small concern." Bruce's voice was filled with sarcasm. "And that is the paying patients. He didn't feel they should be around the charity cases. It would engender hard feelings. You know, they're paying and these people aren't. So he said if we could find space and if we could solve the liability problem, where are we going to put people so they wouldn't be visible?"
"Ah." Herb exhaled.
Miranda shifted in her seat, looked down at the floor, took a deep breath, then looked at the group. "Bruce, you weren't born and raised here so I don't expect you to know this but sequestering or separating the poor gets us awfully close to segregation. In the old days the waiting rooms in the back were always for colored people. That was the proper and polite term then, and I tell you no white person ever went through the back door and vice versa. It brings back an uneasy feeling for me and I expect it does for those of us in this room old enough to remember. The other problem is that a goodly number of our people are African-American or Scotch-Irish. Those seem to be the two primary ethnic groups that we serve and I couldn't tell you why. Anyway, I think Sam needs to be-" She looked at Herb and shrugged.
"I know." Herb read her perfectly. After all, Sam was a Virginian and should know better, but one of the problems with Virginians was that many of them longed for a return to the time of Thomas Jefferson. Of course, none of them ever imagined themselves as slaves or poor white indentured servants. They always thought of themselves as the masters on the hill.
The group continued their progress reports and then adjourned for tea, coffee, and Miranda's baked goods.
BoomBoom walked over to Harry. "I'm glad we're working together."
"It's a good cause." Harry knew BoomBoom wanted to heal the wounds and she admitted to herself that BoomBoom was right, although every now and then Harry's mean streak would kick up and she wanted to make Boom squirm.
"Are you going to work on Little Mim's campaign?"
"Uh-I don't know but I know I can't sit in the middle. I mean, I think Jim's a good mayor." She grabbed another biscuit. "What about you?"
"I'm going to do it. Work for Little Mim. She's right when she says our generation needs to get involved and since Big Mim will sit this out we won't offend her."
"But what about offending Jim?" Harry asked as Cazenovia rubbed her leg.
"Some ham biscuit please."
Harry dropped ham for the cat.
"He won't be offended. I think he's going to enjoy the fight. Really, he's run unopposed for decades." BoomBoom laughed.
Bruce, his eye on BoomBoom-indeed, most men's eyes were on BoomBoom-joined them. "Ladies."
"Our little group has never had anyone as dynamic as you. We are so grateful to you." BoomBoom fluttered her long eyelashes.
"Oh-thank you. Being a doctor isn't always about money, you know."
"We are grateful." Harry echoed BoomBoom's praise minus the fluttering eyelashes. "Oh, I heard about the chicken blood on the blade. I'm sorry. Whoever did that ought to be horsewhipped."
"Damn straight," he growled.
"What?" BoomBoom's eyes widened.
This gave Harry the opportunity to slip away. Bruce could tell BoomBoom about his experience and she could flirt some more.
"Harry." Herb handed her a brownie.
When his back was turned from the table, both cats jumped onto it. People just picked up the two sneaks and put them back on the floor.
"M-m-m, this thing could send me into sugar shock." She laughed.
He lowered his voice as he stood beside her. "I'm very disturbed by Sam's attitude. I think some of the problem may be that it was Bruce who asked. Sam can't stand him, as you know."
"He'll talk to you."
"I think so." He picked up another brownie for himself. "There goes the diet. How are things with you? I haven't had any time to catch up with you."
"Pretty good."
"Good." His gravelly voice deepened.
"Rev, do me a favor. I know Sam will talk to you-even more than he'll talk to Rick Shaw or Coop. Ask him flat out who he thinks killed Hank Brevard. Something doesn't add up. I don't know. Just-"
"Preys on your mind." He dusted off his fingers. "I will."
"I asked Bruce before the meeting started what he thought about Brevard," Harry continued. "He said he thought he was a royal pain in the ass-and maybe now the hospital can hire a really good plant manager. Pretty blunt."
"That's Bruce." Herb put his arm around her reassuringly, then smiled. "You and your curiosity."