The air at HappyCare Clinic didn't smell like the expensive, heavy colognes Asnee favored; it smelled of lemon floor wax and medicinal tea. For the first time in ten years, Santichai's ears didn't ring with the sound of a crowded party or a demanding voice. Here, the loudest sound was the gentle hum of the industrial refrigerator.
He smoothed his clean white apron, feeling the unfamiliar weight of a name tag on his chest. It felt like a new identity. He took a deep, steadying breath before following Fon down the bright, sun-lit corridor.
"Over there are the patient rooms," Fon said, gesturing toward a quiet wing. "Sometimes, if patients order from the hospital cafeteria, we deliver the food directly to them. After this, I'll have you train with one of the senior staff." She turned to look at Santichai with a motherly smile. "Oh, and sometimes if the doctors are too busy, they order food as well. We bring it to their offices. Keep that in mind."
"Thank you, Mrs. Pricha," Santichai replied softly.
"No need for such official titles," Fon said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just call me Pi Fon. The CEO is one of the best surgeons in the country, and he set these rules himself. He wants his patients and staff to feel as welcome as possible."
"It is very considerate," Santichai said. It was a world away from the high-pressure, elitist circles he had inhabited with Asnee.
After finalizing the details of his salary and breaks, Fon welcomed him officially. "Welcome to the team at HappyCare Clinic."
"Thank you for accepting me," he replied with a small, grateful bow.
Santichai worked at the clinic for three months. His main duty was washing dishes, but his natural diligence meant he often stayed late to help the cooks prepare vegetables or organize the pantry. The kitchen staff adored him. He wasn't a chatty person, but he never said "no" to anyone, and his quiet, helpful presence made him a favorite among the older workers.
One afternoon, Fon approached him with a thermal delivery box. "Santichai, help me deliver this to Dr. Suwannarat's office? I need to stay and help the other cooks with a rush." She peered at him. "You remember where the doctors' offices are?"
Santichai nodded once. "Mmm..."
"Go quickly and come back. If there are plates on the tray rack, bring those back too, okay?"
Santichai headed for the executive wing. As soon as he entered the office area, the noise of the clinic faded into a prestigious silence. He walked past the smaller offices until he saw the nameplate for the CEO's suite, located at the very end of the hall. He knocked three times. Silence. He knocked again. Still no response.
He slowly eased the door open. "Room service..."
The office was vast and empty. He placed the food on the mahogany desk and was turning to leave when a woman's voice startled him, sharp as a glass shard.
"Who are you?"
Dussadi stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. Santichai instinctively looked at the floor, his voice trembling. "Room... room service."
"I didn't ask what you were doing. I asked who you were," Dussadi snapped.
"I'm Santichai. I work in the kitchen."
"Idiot," she muttered, brushing past him. She rushed to the desk, rifling through papers. Suddenly, she whirled around, her face flushed with rage. "You! Stop right there! You thief!"
Santichai froze, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Is... is there something I can help you with?"
"You can help me by returning my envelope or following me to the police station!" she shouted. "I put an envelope on this table before the meeting, and now it's gone. You must have taken it!"
"I don't know anything about an envelope, Miss," Santichai pleaded, his eyes filling with tears.
"Liar! There was a check for one million baht inside!" She lunged at him, beginning to search his apron pockets.
Santichai recoiled, struggling to pull away. "I didn't take it! Please, stop! I didn't take it!"
"Dee, what are you doing?"
A tall man in surgical scrubs appeared behind them. Dr. KK—the CEO—handed a small white envelope to Dussadi. "You forgot this on the conference table."
Dussadi let go of Santichai instantly. She snatched the envelope from KK, her face turning red with embarrassment, but she offered no apology. Santichai didn't wait. He turned and fled toward the stairs, his vision blurred by hot, stinging tears.
Behind him, KK's voice was stern. "Next time, Dee, don't make a judgment without evidence."
Near the kitchen, Fon saw Santichai approaching. She could tell by the way he held his shoulders that he was crying. "Santichai? What's wrong?"
He quickly wiped his face, forcing a small, broken smile. "Nothing, Pi Fon."
"Are you crying? You're a grown man, why are you crying?" she asked, her voice softening with concern.
"Pi Fon... can I please not deliver to the doctors' offices anymore?"
"What happened? Was it Dr. Luo?" She rolled up her sleeves, ready for a fight. "I'll file a complaint myself. He's always bothering the staff."
"No, it wasn't him," Santichai said quickly. "Please, don't trouble him. Just... no more office runs."
"Alright," she sighed, patting his arm. "I won't make you go up there again. You're a good boy, Santichai. Don't let them take advantage of your kindness."
Upstairs, KK sat in his office while Dussadi pestered him about his social life.
"Pi, when are you going to finally date Lada?" she asked. "She's been in love with you since middle school. She's an X-ray tech, she's from a prestigious family... our parents would be so relieved to know you aren't with some money-hungry witch."
"Relieved of what?" KK asked, his voice flat.
"Relieved that you're with someone of our own status."
KK looked at her. "Do you want the lie or the truth?"
"The truth."
"I don't like her," KK said simply. "Our personalities don't match."
"And the lie?"
"I'm busy. I'll let you know when I'm free."
When the scheduler arrived to give him his grueling surgery lineup for the next day, KK decided it was time to leave. He went into his private bathroom and changed into a simple sweatshirt and joggers.
"No one will believe you're a surgeon in those clothes," Dussadi teased as he grabbed his bag. "Why not wear a suit?"
"I'm going to the gym, not a board meeting," KK replied.
He walked out of the office wing but realized halfway to the exit that he had forgotten his keys. He turned back, but a soft voice stopped him.
"Pi... that's not the way to the wards. The patients are that way." Santichai pointed toward the left wing, his eyes shy but helpful.
KK turned, realizing the boy was right. He smiled. "Thank you."
He started to walk past, but Santichai spoke up again. "Wait!"
Santichai stepped forward and knelt on the floor. He carefully gathered KK's loose shoelaces and tied them into a firm, perfect bow. He stood up quickly, his face flushing.
"It will hurt a lot if you step on those and fall," Santichai said softly, looking at his feet. "Trust me. I have fallen many times."
KK looked down at his shoes, then back at the man who had been crying only hours before. A strange, lingering warmth settled in his chest. "What's your name?"
"Santichai. I work in the kitchen."
As Santichai walked away, KK felt a slow smile spread across his face. "Santichai..." he murmured to himself. "How very kind."