Godless by James Dobson Page A

those practices were expanded, “might help the Youth Initiative come closer to hitting its overly optimistic volunteer recruitment targets.”
    Before MedCom came on the scene countless potential volunteers had slipped through the cracks. The process depended too heavily on physicians who had a hard time delivering bad news without going further. Dinosaurs from the era of the Hippocratic oath, many doctors suggested alternative treatment options or told patients they would perform the required procedure “under the radar” without compensation. Medical Communications Associates, later christened MedCom, had solved the problem and, in the process, generated significant revenues. As Matthew knew better than anyone, seniors were much more likely to volunteer in their moment of distress. The trick, he had tried to teach Mandy, was resisting the natural impulse to comfort.
    â€œSo,” Matthew said while pulling away from the curb, “remind me of what we learned yesterday.”
    She blushed in self-rebuke while repeating her tutor’s mantra. “Awkward silence is our friend.”
    â€œExactly. And?”
    â€œAnd I need to resist the urge to touch them.” She sighed. “It seems so simple when we’re reviewing prep summaries. I don’t know what my problem is.”
    Your problem , Matthew thought, is that you’re a girl .
    Mandy was his sixth trainee. Of the prior five, all three female pupils had made the same mistakes. The guys, while less pleasant company, had found it much easier to maintain professional distance.
    â€œYou’ll do better today,” he said without conviction.
    Mandy pointed her tablet toward the dashboard to set them on course to their first appointment. Then she asked if Matthew had watched the latest episode of a show he didn’t recognize, then recounted a plot he didn’t care to know.
    He looked at his perky passenger. Did she admire him less today than she had twenty-four hours earlier? He had embarrassed himself by losing his composure and walking out of their final appointment. Very unprofessional.
    â€œOh,” Mandy said after a brief pause in the whir of words, “you’re supposed to call someone named Freddy.”
    He didn’t recognize the name. “Freddy who?”
    â€œFreddy Baxter. I guess he’s pretty mad.”
    Matthew reached for any point of connection. “Baxter? As in Mrs. Baxter from yesterday?”
    â€œHer son left a message last night. It came to us because Mrs. Baxter was in your case load.”
    Matthew groaned. He hated handling appointment follow-up calls, especially when they involved upset family members. The complaints were always the same. “What right do you have to pressure my dad into volunteering?” or “You really upset my mother!”
    But it was part of the job.
    â€œLet’s hear it,” he said, prompting Mandy to tap the PLAY icon on her tablet.
    â€œThis is Freddy Baxter. You sent some incompetent idiot to my mother’s place yesterday to present the transition option. I spent half the evening talking to her last night. She was very upset.”
    Odd. Matthew remembered a calm refusal from a woman who seemed more concerned about his depression than her own demise.
    â€œYou guys made me look like a fool!” the man’s voice continued. “I called to console and reaffirm my mom’s decision to volunteer, only to learn she had refused. Why the devil did I get an update notice saying she had said yes? Now she thinks the whole thing was my idea! Have someone call me tomorrow so we can get this mess straightened out.”
    The man cursed before the message ended abruptly. Matthew turned to look at his trainee. “Did you file the follow-up form like I asked?”
    She had.
    â€œAnd you selected the ‘No thank you’ option?”
    The look on Mandy’s face told him otherwise.
    â€œWe talked for a few minutes after