I nod, staring at Charlie with awe and intrigue. She's different from the girl I first met and I find myself wanting to find out everything she’s done in the years she’s been gone. Thankfully Rhett speaks, breaking the silence.
“Sure thing, doc,” he replies. “We’ll make sure he does all of that.”
“And stop scratchin’, Austin. That’s just goin’ to keep irritatin’ the skin and you’ll be back here to get it treated again,” Charlie adds.
"Yes, ma'am," I say, my voice surprisingly steady.
A slow smile appears on her lips. “Good.” It’s then that a pager on her hip starts beeping. “That’s my cue. I’ll pass your chart onto the duty nurse and she’ll be in soon to see to you,” she replies as she grabs my notes and moves toward the door.
“And Austin?”
My head jerks up. “Yeah?”
"Don't be a stranger. It'd be good to catch up sometime." Then she's gone and I'm left with two pairs ofveryinterested eyes looking at me.
“Trip home’s goin’ to be fun,” Rhett says, pulling Cora into his side and shooting her a knowing glance.
My far-too-intuitive future sister-in-law tilts her head as she studies me. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
I let it slide because my mind is stuck on something else entirely. Because it's not until Charlie has left the room that I realizethat when she was here, I wasn't feeling off-kilter at all. I was feeling normal. Now that she's gone, that crawling-out-of-my-skin sensation is slowly starting to creep back in.
What I really want to know now is what the hellthatmeans?
7
CHARLIE
After putting it off for far too long, I’m finally starting to think about redecorating the apartment above Ma’s garage. I’m fine living inside her house, and we get along great, but after living away for fifteen years, I’m used to having my own space and I think she is too.
Since today is the first of two days off–unless I get called in for a woman in labor–I’m trying to decide what I want to do with the space.
Which is how I’ve found myself at the town’s hardware store called Hammers & Nails, paint swatches in hand, ready to get everything I might need. Ma was going to meet me here but she sent me a message when I got here to say she’d been held up and would be here as soon as possible.
I carefully peruse the shelves, second-guessing my choices when confronted by all the different colors I hadn't considered before now. Who knew there weresomany different shades of white and gray, all of them blurring together as I try to make adecision. It’s all a little overwhelming, which probably explains why my palms are sweaty.
It's ridiculous. I'm a specialized doctor who can handle life-or-death situations with ease, but choosing exactly what I want seems to be my Achilles' heel.I thought there were fifty shades of gray, not ten million alternatives to white!
Lost in my thoughts, I barely notice the tall figure entering the aisle. When I turn my head to greet them–as is the Spring Haven way–I realize that it's Austin.
"Hey," I say with a ridiculous wave, noting that the dressing on his arm is no longer there.
"Charlie? What areyoudoing here?" he asks, sounding surprised.
I offer him a sheepish smile and shrug. "Came here to pick out the paint for my apartment and got stuck in a rainbow of indecision."
He chuckles and warmth spreads through me at the sound. "Oh yeah? Need some help?"
Austin’s easy-going smile puts me at ease. It reminds me of the first time I walked into his senior maths class, full of nerves and worried about whether I'd be picked on for being a brainiac who skipped ahead. Straight away Austin gave me that same smile and it was like a thousand butterflies fluttered inside of me all at once. When he offered to be my partner for the assignment I'd already missed half of, it felt like he was offering me the world–even if it was just him being him, as I’d come to find out later.
I nod, grateful for his offer. "Yes please! I could definitely use a second opinion."
Austin moves closer, his presence a comfort more than nerve wracking.That’s a good sign, right? "Alright then, let's tackle this smorgasbord of color together. If I remember rightly, the apartment is just one big room with a small ensuite at the back.”
"Wow. You've got a good memory.”
"Only for the important things." I still and thankfully he doesn't catch it while he turns to the wall of swatches and considers the options. "What were you thinkin’? Is there a mood you're goin' for?"
My head jerks and I stare up at him. "Who are you and where has the gruff and tough rancher gone?" I ask with a grin. “You’re askin’ me about themoodof the room? Are you going to ask me whataestheticI’m goin’ for as well?”
