“My pleasure.”
“I’d like to do this again sometime,” he says, and I start to panic. “Somewhere that isn’t fifty feet from work.”
Sadie, come on. He’s the closest thing to a real-life McDreamy you’re ever going to find.He’s attractive and charming and despite the bacon-fest he ordered, he’s fit and everything like Griffin Sullivan, but he’s also the one thing Griffin isn’t: ready for something. You should totally say yes to him. Do it now.
“I’m not dating right now,” I blurt and instantly feel relief. “I think you’re great, but I’ve got too much going on with my dad and I’m just not in the right place.”
“Even for one date?”
I nod. He looks disappointed. “I really hope this doesn’t make working together too weird.”
“Of course not. I appreciate your honesty and understand where you’re coming from,” he assures me with an easy smile that seems genuine. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
He passes my mother on his way out without knowing it. He holds the door open for her as she comes in. She sees me and heads over, taking the stool Bob just vacated. “That was a handsome doctor.”
“Yup,” I agree and sip my latte. “And he just asked me out.”
“Really?” Her hazel eyes spark with excitement but dim again as soon as she sees my face. “You turned him down?”
“Yup,” I say again and put down my now empty latte mug. “I wanted to force myself to say yes. He’s charming and good looking and everyone at the hospital likes him, so I know he’s a genuinely good guy. But…”
My mom sighs, but it’s not in disappointment, it’s in solidarity. “The heart wants what the heart wants. And it doesn’t want the sensible choice.”
I nod. “I mean not that there’s a choice. It’s basically Bob or nothing right now.”
“That doesn’t mean it should be Bob,” she replies, and I’m so grateful she’s not one of those mothers who pushes her kids for husbands and babies. She reaches over and takes my fork, digging into the half-eaten cherry pie slice in front of me. I push it closer to her. “Your dad was the absolute worst choice ever.”
She pops a forkful of pie into her mouth and chews while I laugh at that announcement. “He was just some random hottie I met on vacation. He didn’t live near me. He wasn’t in college. He literally lived in his parents’ basement. That’s like the kiss of death, even now.”
“Hey, lady, back off. I live with my parents.”
“Not in the basement, sweetheart,” she reminds me. “Anyway, I knew I was going to be considered crazy when I started dating him, but I couldn’t stop myself. He was so wrong, but yet so right.”
“You two have ruined me forever,” I say to her in mock anger. “I mean how am I ever going to find a love story that great?”
“Jude and Dixie both managed. You will too,” she replies. “I just hope Winnie can.”
She looks genuinely concerned when she says that, and I wish I could make her feel better, but I’ve got nothing good to say when it comes to Winnie’s love life. I decide to change the subject. I pull out my phone and look at the time. “Dad should be done soon. Want to head over?”
She nods. I pull my wallet out of my purse and leave some cash on the counter for my food and the coffees. We walk across the parking lot back to the hospital, and I realize how accurate Bob’s joke was. I spend way too much time here. It feels like I don’t do anything but deal with illness. So why can’t I talk myself into doing something more, like dating Bob?
Because you’re still hung up on Griffin,I remind myself sternly.That kiss made you feel alive and incredible and made it impossible to forget him anytime soon…or maybe ever. So you screwed yourself because you’re going to have to forget him.
We head up to neurology, and sure enough, Dad is waiting in the area outside Dr. Lack’s office. He smiles at us, but it isn’t relaxed and jovial like it should be. Mom bends down and kisses his cheek. Dr. Lack opens her office door. “Come in, everyone.”
I feel like I’m going to the firing squad. Mom wheels Dad in, and I follow. Mom takes the chair, while Dr. Lack sits behind her desk and sighs. This isn’t good. She starts to tell us the test results. Dad’s mobility, muscle strength, swallowing, and breathing have all deteriorated from his last test three months ago.
“Nothing extreme, except I’m a little worried about the swallowing and want to do a follow-up test much sooner than three months, say maybe in a month?” she explains. “And it’s definitely better to use the wheelchair as much as possible now.”
I’m so glad I can’t see their faces, because I know my parents are devastated. This is really bad news. He’s quickly losing all the freedom he has left. But like always, my dad just nods stoically. Dr. Lack hands my mom a piece of paper. “I want to try this new prescription. It might help a little bit with muscle strength.”
Again, Dad nods. “Thanks, Doc.”
“See you in a month.”
Mom gets up and wheels him out, and I follow. In the hall she puts on a brave face. It’s just about the only face I see lately. “I’m going to run to the pharmacy in the building and fill this now,” she says. “I’ll meet you two at the car.”
“Sure thing, honey.” Dad nods, and I take over behind his chair. As we walk to the elevator bay and she heads the other way toward the emergency wing, he turns his head a little to look up at me. “Well, that sucked.”
