It was a warm, sunny morning in October and in an office in the north side of Oakland, Dr. Monolos finished thumbing through some papers and looked up at the young, boyish looking doctor sitting across from him. "It says here that you had a thymoma yourself but it went into complete remission."
The other doctor smiled broadly, showing dimples. "Credit where credit is due, I had an excellent personal physician taking care of me. He's retired now. I'm feeling much better and I'm eager to go back to work."
"Well, your professional credentials are very good and we can always use oncologists here at Kaiser. Welcome aboard, Dr. Wilson." They shook hands over the desk.
Outside the building, there were two middle aged people sitting on a bench waiting for the free hospital shuttle. One tall, lanky man with very large blue eyes and a week's worth of stubble who was carrying a cane and an old boom box and one somewhat overweight woman with glasses and thick shoulder length brown hair who was pretending to read a newspaper but was actually staring at the man and trying to hide it.
"What are you staring at?"
"I'm sorry. I just thought you were attractive." She looked at the nametag pinned to his grey blazer. It read DR. BERTIE MYCROFT.
His initially hard expression relaxed into a smile, much to her relief. "Oh, really?" He pushed the play button on the boom box and it immediately launched into:
She smiled broadly. "I love the Beatles!"
He didn't say anything, but he couldn't help feeling this might work out all right.