Dok stilled. Fern had just answered a question that Dok didn’t even know she was asking.That girl is upto something.
A long moment passed before she straightened up, having gotten what she came for. “Thanks, Fern. That’s helpful.”
As Dok put a hand on the door, she turned. “Do you go into the buggy shop much?”
“Once or twice. Nothing in there but books and boxes.” She lifted her knife in the air. “I’ve told Wren and Charlie that those boxes need to go when they go.”
“Would you mind if I just popped into the buggy shop? Wren said she left some files in there.”
“Go right ahead.”
A few minutes later, Dok opened the door to the shop. It was just like Fern had described. Banker boxes of Finegold’s old files, neatly stacked against the wall. Textbooks laid out on every horizontal surface, with study notes for each topic. Inside, she turned in a circle. Wren had pretty much claimed the small living space. There wasn’t much sign that Charlie lived here, other than an unmade bed and an open suitcase left on the floor, full of wrinkled clothes. No wonder he always looked so rumpled.
As Dok walked back to her car, Fern hurried down the porch steps to hand her a jar of canned peaches. “Save that for a cold winter day. It’ll remind you of summer.”
“Thanks, Fern. I’ll do that.” Dok took the jar, feeling the warmth of the liquid through the glass. She just might try another peach.
All day, Evie did her best to keep her distance from Charlie. She asked Annie to assist him with the patients who came for flu shots so she could work side by side with Wren. Not enjoyable, not at all, but definitely easier that way—safer. If she didn’t have to interact with him, she could try to ignore the heavy ache in her chest.
Charlie, however, seemed to catch on quickly that she was avoiding him.
During the lunch break, he caught her refilling the supply closet—something Annie always did. “There you are. I was hoping you could run through some study cards with me.”
“Can’t today.” Or any other day. Ever again. She got back to business, stacking boxes of gauze pads. “Try asking Annie.” It came out more snappish than she intended to sound. Then, softer, she added, “Annie’s got her EMT exam coming up. I’m sure it would be helpful for her to work with you.”
He held up a tin. “Fern gave me a whole bunch of brownies. Plenty to share.” He opened the tin to reveal Fern’s thick, dark, chocolatey, fudgy brownies. Indulgent, decadent, crave-worthy.
“Nope.”
His brows lifted in surprise. “Really?” he said, like she sounded odd.
No, of course not really. She loved Fern’s brownies. Loved them. But her emotions felt so fragile that she couldn’t trust herself around Charlie. Too much interaction and out would spill her big tangled mess of feelings, which would only make everything worse. She was sad, disappointed, heartsick ... but mostly she was mad. At herself. It was her own fault for falling for a guy who was already involved with someone else.
Hadn’t Darcy warned her? Yes! She’d even wondered if Evie was self-sabotaging by setting her sights on a guy who was unattainable.
“One of the patients this morning told me about his church. Meets in a gym. I thought we could try it out on Sunday.”
She stopped, holding a box of gauze pads in her hand. “Sorry. I’ve already made plans.”
Swaying from foot to foot, he studied her for a few seconds. “Evie, have I done something wrong?”
“No,” she said, her voice clipped. She knew she wasn’t being honest, but she couldn’t help it. It was the best way she couldthink of to protect herself, to keep from crumbling. If he considered her as a friend, then she would try to see him in the same light. Pals. Chums.
Charlie’s puzzled expression deepened. “You’ve been acting weird all day. You’ve barely said two words to me.”
Evie shrugged, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “The office has been super busy,” she said flatly, hoping he’d drop it.
But he didn’t. “Busy avoiding me, it seems.”
“Avoiding you?” She coughed a laugh. “Why, I’ve hardly given you a thought.”Lie,lie,lie.Plus, the words sounded way too harsh again. She was never harsh to anyone, not even to Wren, who often deserved it. The look on his face made her regret it immediately, but she couldn’t let her guard down. Not now. Not when she was hanging by a thread. She just had to get through the day. She could fall apart later. Not here.
Charlie’s shoulders slumped slightly, the hurt in his eyes unmistakable. “Evie, if there’s something going on—if I’ve done something to upset you—you’d tell me, right? I don’t want to lose our friendship over a misunderstanding.”
So there it was. He said it to her face. Friendship. Pal-zone. Evie took a deep breath, steeling herself. “You’re overthinking. There’s nothing to talk about, Charlie.”
He closed the lid of the brownies and left her to finish stacking gauze pads in the supply closet, and she was equally glad he’d left as she was disappointed.
After all, they were just pals. Just chums. Chummy Charlie.
