I walked into the office. I saw the chief setting behind his desk. He looked like a chief should. He was all prim and proper sitting up straight. It reminded me of the picture of him and my mom that she had on her desk back in Boston.
"Hello Jordan," he said. "You can set down if you want," he said pointing to a chair in front of his desk.
I walked slowly to the chair. I did not know what he wanted to talk about. I hope that it was not about my mom. She was a touchy subject for me. As I lowered myself in a chair I could tell that he was sizing me up.
"Good morning chief Webber," I said to him.
"You can call me Richard if you want," he said.
I shook my head. "I will either call you chief or Doctor Webber."
"That is up to you," he said leaning back into his chair. "Can I get you anything?"
I hated when people did this. The way that he is trying to keep from telling me what the reason was for me being here.
"I am good," I said to him.
He nodded his head. "I bet you are wondering why I wanted to talk to you."
"Yes," I said.
"I wanted to tell you a couple of things," was his response.
"What kind of things did you want to tell me and not my sister," I asked him.
"That is a good question," he said. "I wanted to talk to you because of your mother."
"What does she have to do with anything," I said. "She was also my sister's mother too."
"I know that," he said looking at me. "But your mother was more concerned with you."
"Why me," I said. "She had more reasons to be concerned with Meredith."
"She sent me a letter a couple of years ago," he said. "It explained to me why."
"Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess," I said getting a little mad.
"She said that you always had to be the perfect one," he said.
That confused me. Why would it matter if I wanted everything to be perfect? Wouldn't that make me a better doctor?
"I do not understand," I said. "If I want everything to be perfect wouldn't that make me a better doctor?"
"No," he said. "To be a doctor everything cannot be perfect. To be a doctor you need to understand that everything will not be perfect. That everything will not be alright."
I looked at him. "Why can nothing be right? Why most it not be alright?"
"She said that you would be asking questions like that," he said. "If you want to set down I will explain everything."
I sat back down reluctantly. I was not in the mood to be told why my mom did not trust me. But then again I wanted to know. I wanted to know why she was not concerned with Meredith.
"Ok what did my mom say," I said.
"She said that being perfect is not what is needed," he said. "Your mom always told me that being perfect was the wrong path. As a doctor you need to understand that everything is not in your control."
"I understand that," I said to him. "What I do not understand is why she thinks that I don't?"
"She said that you were always making sure that stuff was perfect," he said. "I knew that since you are her daughter it must be hard for stuff into to be perfect."
"My mother always made it hard for stuff to be perfect," I said. "I always had to fix her problems. Sometimes I had to fix hers and mine. She was never there to fix them like a mother should."
"I see that you are upset," he said. "Why don't we take a deep breath and start again?"
I breathed in. He was right I was taking this out of proportion. "Alright what else did she say about it?"
"She also said that you were very good at being perfect in a home setting," he said. "She talked about how even though you were the younger one you took care of your sister."
"I had to," I said looking at him. "My mom was never there to take care of us. I saw that Meredith needed more care than I did and I took on the role of mother."
"Is that also why you need everything to be perfect," he asked me.
"I guess," I said. I shook my head. "Is this meeting to see if I need mental help because Chief Webber I do not need that. My mother needed that. She was always working first. Why did she have kids if she was going to work. I want you to answer because between you and the hospital my mom was never home."
"Jordan," he said trying to calm me down. "I am sorry about that. I do not think that you need mental help. I just think that you have a lot of anger built up inside."
With that I hit his desk. "Thank you for that assessment, Chief Webber." I got up and went to the door.
"Jordan," he said. "I want to apologize for what I said. I also want to tell you that your mom did care. I hope that you are as good a doctor as she was."
I opened the door. "Have a good day, Chief Webber," I said as I walked out.
I went to find Bailey to see what I needed to do. I felt a couple of tears falling down. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.