"Did the contractor clear it?"
"No."
"Then we can't."
She nodded.
"I know."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then the coordinator looked toward him.
"Be careful."
He frowned.
"About what?"
She hesitated.
"The manager asked whether you had any recent attendance problems."
The father's stomach dropped.
His daughter had been ill.
He'd taken approved leave for several appointments.
He'd also exchanged shifts with coworkers when unexpected medical needs arose.
His attendance records were not perfect in the way an employee with no family emergencies might be able to maintain.
But he had communicated every absence and followed the procedures he understood.
The coordinator looked toward him.
"I think he's trying to build a case."
The father stared toward the manager's office.
Then whispered, "For what?"
She didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
On December twenty-third, his daughter's condition changed.
She had been recovering from a planned medical procedure when doctors became concerned about new symptoms.
Her grandmother, who was staying with her during the father's workday, called him shortly after noon.
He was inside the maintenance workshop examining a failed circulation pump.
His phone vibrated.
He glanced at the screen.
Then answered immediately.
"Everything okay?"
His mother-in-law's voice was shaking.
"The hospital wants her transferred for further evaluation."
He straightened.
"What happened?"
She explained as much as she understood.
The girl's medical team had become concerned about a possible complication.
Additional specialists needed to assess her.
The father felt his chest tighten.
He looked toward the equipment in front of him.
Then toward the clock.
"I'll be there."
He ended the call.
For several seconds, he remained completely still.
Then he contacted his immediate supervisor.
The supervisor understood.
He arranged for another technician to cover the remaining scheduled tasks.
The father completed the necessary handover.
Then drove toward the hospital.
By evening, his daughter was undergoing additional tests.
She was frightened.
Her grandmother stood beside the bed.
And the father sat near her pillow holding Captain Snow.
The little girl looked toward him.
"Daddy?"
He leaned closer.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Are you going to work tomorrow?"
He swallowed.
He was scheduled for Christmas Eve.
The resort had been extremely busy.
But his daughter's condition was uncertain, and the doctors had warned that additional treatment might be required.
He looked into her eyes.
"I'm going to stay as close as I can."
She nodded.
Then asked, "What if they need to fix my heart again?"
His throat tightened.
He took a breath.
"Then we'll listen to the doctors and make the best decisions we can."
She looked toward Captain Snow.
"Will it hurt?"
He didn't want to lie.
So he gently explained that the medical team would do everything appropriate to keep her safe and comfortable.