He watches me for a beat, something flickering behind his eyes. Then he straightens and jerks his chin toward the hallway. “C’mon. Let’s get some lunch before our physical therapy session today.”
I follow him out of the bedroom, and he drops the guitar off in his room before we meet at the kitchen. He opens the fridge then immediately closes it again. “Do you want to go out for lunch? I feel like maybe you’ve been trapped in the house too long.”
“Oh my goodness I would love that! I think I saw on a flier near Violet and Simon’s bakery that there’s live music at the pier today. Food trucks, the whole deal. Like a mini festival.”
Nash hesitates and I give him my best smile. “Come on. Music, food, sunshine, and good company? I think I hear a little joy calling… don’t you?”
He shakes his head. “See what I mean? Dangerous.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Nash
What have I gotten myself into? After four grueling days at the hospital, I’ve been looking forward to some downtime. A workout. Some reading. Physical therapy with Lucy but mostly, the rest my soul so desperately needs.
The offer of lunch was spur of the moment.
Inspired by her energy and enthusiasm.
I thought we’d get a quick bite and then I could retreat back to the safety of my house, my routine… as much as I can with her around.
Instead, I’m heading out to a mini festival.
When in the history of Nash Kincaid has this ever been a thing?
A quick memory flashes of a younger me, laughing with Jadelyn and our friends at the pier, wind in our hair, youth on our side, and the whole wide world open beforeus. That was a lifetime ago, before life got real and I got… tired.
“So, is that a yes?” Lucy asks, cocking her head with a look that says she knows she’s about to get what she wants, which basically forces me to apply at least a little resistance.
“You’re on crutches,” I begin but am stopped when Lucy rolls her eyes in the most adorably sassy way. It’s all I can do not to smile.
“Yes, yes, I’m on crutches, and blah, blah, blah there will be people and blah, blah, sand and blah, a million reasons to say no but come on, Nash. I’ll be fine and, I don’t want to shock you, but…” she lowers her voice to a whisper and feigns shock, “you might even have fun.”
“Fine.” I run a hand through my hair and can’t help but smile at Lucy’s little wiggle of happiness.
And suddenly we’re piling into my truck and winding through downtown Stillwater. Lucy chatters happily, as I navigate thicker and thicker traffic. People stroll down the sidewalk toward the pier, the crowd growing larger the closer we get. The faint strains of music reach me, guitar, steel drums, a Bob Marley-esque vocalist. My fingers tap on the steering wheel in time with the rhythm. Lucy notices and smiles softly.
I find a space to park, and help her out of the truck, mindful of her flowy dress as I lower her to the ground, then hand her the crutches. Her hair is down today, a curtain of blonde draping over sun-kissed shoulders. A light dusting of eye shadow accentuates those shockingly blue eyes, eyes that rival the sky for glory.
“Look at all those food trucks! And the water is perfect, just sparkling and beautiful,” she exclaims, smiling politely at a family as they wander past us, then turning her attention to me. “I so needed a day like this. Thank you, Nash.”
A light breeze moves through her hair, sending the white fabric of her dress swirling around her ankles. She is a summer day come to life and I mentally take a picture of the moment.
We grab some grub from Fast Eddy’s Fantastic Eats—a Stillwater Shrimp Po’ Boy for me and a Grilled Sunshine Wrap for her, plus a pair of Pineapple Paradise Floats—then head to the end of the pier, dangling legs off the edge as we eat. Part of Lucy is always dancing to the music. Either her head is bobbing, her torso swaying, her legs swinging, or her fingers tapping. I don’t think she’s even aware she’s doing it.
It’s endearing.
We talk about her life in Los Angeles. The grind of it. She tells me about balancing two jobs plus going to dance class every night, gym time, audition circuits, the day she finally got picked up by an agent, her eyes sparkling the entire time. This is a person who loves what she does.
“That sounds exhausting,” I say, shoving a bite of crispy shrimp drenched in remoulade sauce into my mouth. Combined with the freshness of the lettuce and tomato, the food alone was worth coming out for. But when you add in the company? I’m almost glad I let her talk me into it.
“It is. Believe me.” Lucy slurps at her drink, sparklingsoda poured over fresh pineapple soft serve, then plucks the cherry out and slips it between her lips. “But,” she continues, chewing thoughtfully, “it’s worth it. I love my life. I mean, sure there are parts of being in LA that I hate. I hadn’t realized how rude everyone is until coming home and remembering what it’s like to be around nice people. And being treated as a commodity and not a person, that can be a little heart breaking.”
“I’m sure it’s more than heartbreaking.” Demeaning is the word I have in mind, but I won’t feed it to her. She doesn’t need my cynicism diluting her passion.
“Enough about me, though. I want to know more about you. Did you always want to be a doctor?”
“For as long as I can remember.”
