“Because I might say I am, and then wake one day and just have to leave. I can’t help it. I get restless.”
As Ren took the measuring tape, she didn’t say anything but Brodie was pretty sure he saw her arch a brow knowingly.
“You got something to say about that, Ren?” he asked.
She paused, turning his way, eyes beady like a little bird’s, but she feigned being nonplussed by the question. “No, Brodie, I got nothing to say.”
He turned back to his brother, narrowed his eyes and said, “Why’d your girlfriend just raise her eyebrow at what I said?”
Noah laughed and shook his head. “Don’t ask me. Ren, you certain you’ve got nothing to add?”
She started to walk back to the veranda. “I didn’t do anything. I’m not even here. You brothers just get on with your talking.”
Brodie sat back, arms crossed, legs outstretched. “I’ve never known you not to have an opinion, Ren,” he called over.
She turned and rolled her eyes like he was being paranoid.
Noah said, “Don’t worry, if she has got one, she won’t be able to hold it in for long.”
“I heard that.”
“I know.” Then he gave Brodie a look like,just wait.
So Brodie sipped his drink. Noah put his hands behind his head. They talked a bit about fishing.
Then when Zoey said, “I gotta use your bathroom,” and skipped inside, Ren came jogging over to where the brothers were sitting.
“Okay, fine,” she said.
Noah smirked.
She wiped her hands on a rag. “I don’t think people run from a place, Brodie,” she said, slipping the rag into the pocket of her dungarees. “I think they’re running from what’s inside.”
“What the heck does that mean?” Noah asked.
Ren kept her gaze fixed on Brodie, smiling at him a little sadly. “It means, you gotta find peace with who you are—maybe with your dad…” She paused, letting the words sink in. “With who you wanna be. Maybe then you won’t feel so restless.”
Noah, silent, glanced at him, eyes curious as to whether that struck a chord.
But Brodie just shook his head none the wiser. “How am I meant to do that?” he asked, hands spread wide in question.
Ren glanced over her shoulder to check that Zoey wasn’t back yet. She tilted her head, those beady eyes now all sympathy as she looked at him. “I think maybe you gotta sit with the feeling, Brodie, rather than run from it.”
It was Brodie’s turn to be silent.
He felt a building horror in his chest at the idea of being forced to sit still rather than jetting off to someplace new, some new island, some new ski slope, some new beach with towering surf. The very thought of having to wait and see what it was that was inside of him was beyond imaginable. Made him struggle to draw breath. Made him laugh and say, “Sounds a little too deep for me, Ren!”
Before she could say more, Zoey came back out and called, “Hey, Ren, I thought we were painting?”
ChapterThirty-Seven
Being at work that day was odd. A little like being a mini celebrity. Maeve wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting, but her imagination heavily featured the cool judgment she knew she would get from her parents on the faces of everyone.
Instead, when she walked in, Barbara on reception clicked her tongue and said, “They’re devils, those reporters, sell their soul for a quick buck. It’s disgusting.”
When she went into a handover meeting, fellow resident Henry cracked a joke with a good-natured smirk, which prompted the head of department to say, “Are we here to do our jobs or gossip about Doctor Dixon’s love life?” and one of the nurses, Georgia, to reply, “Gossip about Doctor Dixon’s love life!” Which made everyone snigger.
It was all harmless fun that somehow made Maeve feel more fondly of her colleagues—even relax a little and be more accepting of them as friends. They seemed pleased to be able to rib her a little, see her relax and laugh. Maybe in every aspect of her life she needed, as Brodie put it, to lighten up.
