“Flick.” She hands me the sweater, soft cashmere that probably costs more than my monthly streaming income. “Whatever’s going on—you know you can tell me, right?”
My throat closes. “I know.”
“Is it Sebastian? Are you scared?”
Yes. But not the way she thinks. I’m scared of wanting this. Scared of what happens when he realizes I’m not the spontaneous, carefree artist he thinks I am. When he sees the pill organizers and heating pads and the way I map my days around energy levels.
“I just don’t want to mess it up,” I say, which is true enough.
She hugs me, careful not to squeeze too tight. She remembers the bad days, even if she doesn’t know about the new diagnosis. “You deserve good things, Flick. Even if they’re scary.”
“So do you.”
“I have them.” She pulls back, gesturing at the soccer gear and dog hair. “Now it’s your turn.”
CHAPTER 6
Sebastian
“She’s always chewing on the socks, but I didn’t think she would actually eat one!” Pixie, the gray-haired owner of Alice the cat, wrings her hands.
“If an animal is chewing on something, there’s a good chance they’ll eat it, whether intentionally or not.” Realizing how harsh I sound, I adjust my tone. “You did the right thing bringing Alice in. She’ll be just fine.”
Removing a sock from the cat’s intestines was the third emergency surgery I had to do today, jammed into the middle of all the scheduled appointments and drop-ins. It’s been the busiest day since I opened the clinic five years ago, and I haven’t even stopped for lunch. At one point, I remember Rach handing me a Gatorade and a packet of nuts, and maybe I gulped them down.
Or maybe I left them in exam room three? Come to think of it, I really can’t remember.
“Thank you, Dr. Blum.” Pixie takes the cat carrier with Alice, lethargic from the anesthesia, in it. “You’re a real godsend. By the way, I wanted to tell you my granddaughter is coming to town next month. She’s twenty-seven and a real beauty. She works at an advertising agency in New York, but she would loveto move to a small town like this. She enjoys her job, but she’s not obsessed with her career, like some of those young women. She’s ready to settle down.”
The suggestion between her words is heavy, and she raises her eyebrows, waiting for my response. I haven’t dated much since the divorce and opening my practice, though many times I’ve thought about how nice it would be to find someone.
And now, maybe I have. At least, I hope I have. Flick is something special, a woman who dances to her own tune, and even though we’ve only spent one evening together, things feel good enough that I’m willing to put all my eggs in that basket.
“I’m actually seeing someone.” Saying it makes my chest swell with pride. “Thank you, though, Pixie. Your granddaughter sounds wonderful.”
“Oh, you are?” She shuffles closer, curiosity piqued. “I didn’t hear that. Who are you seeing?”
I hesitate. Word flies fast on Pine Island, and rumors sprout even faster. Tonight is Flick’s and my first official date, and for all I know, she doesn’t like her business being spread around town.
“Someone really nice,” I settle for saying.
She frowns in disappointment, the potential for gossip fodder disappearing into thin air. “Oh. That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. Let me know if it doesn’t work out and you’d like to meet Lisa.”
“Thank you. I will. Let me carry Alice to the car for you.”
We step outside, and I’m struck by how long the shadows are. Is it really that late in the day?
My remaining to-do list rushes through my mind. Several more animals still have routine checkups, but as long as we don’t have any more walk-ins, I should be able to make my seven-thirty date with Flick.
As Pixie drives off, I speed walk back through the front doors, eager to get a start on some paperwork. But the moment I enter the building and hear the sound of vomiting, I know another wrench had been thrown into the day.
The bathroom door opens, and Frank, one of the techs, walks out, looking like death.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m, uh…” He rushes back into the bathroom.
“Flu is still going around,” Rach says from behind the front desk.
