Her gaze falls to her lap, and her voice lowers. “I don’t know.” Then, after a few minutes of silence, she says, “I have to go back, but I’m worried it’s going to happen again. A panic attack.”
I don’t want to agree and scare her, and I don’t want her to feel bad about herself for worrying about that. If we’re being honest, I’m worried about that too. She says she’s happier with this change in her schedule, in her environment, and she sure seems happy when I’maround. “Who says youhaveto go back? There isn’t a contract you signed to work a certain amount of years or anything, is there?”
She shakes her head. “No, just guilt.”
Her words sink in my stomach like a stone. I get that, in some ways. The pressure you can feel to stay on a certain path for fear you might let someone down, but it pains me to see her like this.
“I admire your loyalty to your job, trust me, but I don’t want you to work it at the expense of your own happiness. The way I see it, you are the only one that gets to make that choice. Not them, not your parents, not me.”
“But isn’t that selfish of me? To take that easy route?”
“It’s never selfish to take care of yourself.”
“I know you’re right,” she answers, voice soft. I reach a hand up to squeeze her shoulder, willing some of the tension to dissipate.
“There will always be expectations put on us from someone, or something. But only you can decide what you need, what will make waking up each morning worth it. I just want you to think about it. If you want to go back for you, I’ll support you one hundred percent. If you change your mind and want to consider somewhere else, just know there’s a clinic in Copper Ridge that could use fresh eyes.”
With a brow cocked, she stabs a carrot with her fork, bringing it up to her mouth. Luscious pink lips wrap around the tines of the fork, and I find myself becoming jealous of a piece of fucking silverware. “You think I’d fit in, in Copper Ridge?”
I clear my throat roughly as my attention falls back to her question. “I think you’d be incredible.” And that’s not an exaggeration. She’s young but smart, pretty and kind. “We’d love to have you.”
As she takes another bite of chicken, I tell her about the farm and my attempted chat with my dad to hire more help. “He seemed the most open to it, but he didn’t give me a hard yes.”
“What would that look like? Would they be on the weekends, or only during the busy season?”
“Honestly, we could probably use someone full time, year round. Theo knows a guy who’s newer to the fire department. I think he’s had a rough go and is looking for part-time work. Even that would be a blessing right now. Lukas hasn’t been reliable since he’s been back, and we need someone who is.”
Her fork slices through the blueberry pie with ease, bringing a hearty bite to her mouth. Her eyes flutter as she chews, and she reaches out, cutting another bite.
This time, she brings it toward my mouth with her hand underneath the fork to catch any berries that might try to fall. “You’ve got to try this.”
My mom’s blueberry pie is the best there is, I know that for a fact. But I’d take anything Holly offered me, so I open, letting her feed me the next bite.
Just as expected, it’s perfect, and I know as soon as I get home, I’m going to grab another piece from the dish still sitting on my parents’ counter.
“Has anyone talked to Lukas … about … how he is?”
I inhale sharply through my nose, twisting to look down the side street. “Not really,” I tell her, keeping my eyes on the pedestrians near the crosswalk. “I think we all have the same attitude toward it. We don’t know what happened, or what’s bothering him. We try to talk to him, but we don’t want to push it.”
Holly reaches out; her hand comes to rest on top of mine and she lightly squeezes. “Asking about someone's mental health is always awkward, but I think he’d appreciate someone asking.”
I nod at that. “He’s an adult but still my little brother.” I turn to her, soaking in her soft, concerned gaze. “I’m worried about him.”
“You could start with exactly that. Get him alone sometime and tell him you’re worried about him. Make surehe knows that you’re there for him. The person who’s hurting rarely makes the first move.”
Lukas hasn’t ever been one to talk about his feelings. Not with us. The only person that seemed to be able to read his moods is the same person he grieves.
Holly leaves her hand on mine but returns to picking at her lunch. Eventually, she sets her fork down and swipes a napkin over her mouth. “We should probably head back.”
I nod and stand. We work in tandem to pack up her Tupperware, and I’m impressed with how much she ate in that quick lunch. It’ll make my mom happy.
With her hand clasped in mine, we make the short walk back to the clinic. Pausing out front, I bring my hands to her shoulders, ushering her to face me. “I didn’t mean to frustrate you, or get you in your head more about the ER. And I didn’t mean to bring up my issues with Lukas.” I tilt my head down, making sure to catch her eyes. “If you go back to the ER and decide to stay, of course I’ll support you. If you want to take a break and do nothing, or stay at some of these smaller clinics, I’ll still come to bring you lunch and flirt with you a little. I just want to see you happy, like you are now.”
Her shoulders shake with quiet laughter, and her head falls in front of us to rest on my chest. A warm breezepicks up, causing her blonde hair to fly around her face. My fingers take on a mind of their own, reaching up and brushing across her forehead to tame some of the strands, smoothing them down with my grip around the back of her neck.
She takes a step closer, causing the toes of her heels to bump against my boots, and when she licks her lips, my body aches, desperate for another taste. “I have a confession,” I murmur as my eyes stay razor focused on her mouth.
“Oh?”
