“I went to the King’s for dinner last night.”
“Oh, nice.How was it?”
“Honestly?The house is still as gorgeous as ever.They’ve updated a few things, but otherwise still just as grand.”
“They haven’t changed, have they?”she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Nope.Still the same sweet people they’ve always been.”
“They invited my mentor.He’s close with the family since he helped Dusty with his heart condition.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.How’s that going, having him as a mentor?”
I lean back, the memory of our disagreement at work still fresh.“He likes structure.His way or nothing.We clashed over a patient last week, but I ended up being right.”
She laughs, a light, proud sound that bubbles through the speaker.“Trust you.”
I grin to myself.
“Well,” she says, thoughtful, “maybe he was just in work mode.”
“Yeah.He did seem different.More relaxed.”
“Makes sense.Not at work, not having to act like your superior.”
“True.”I run my fingers through my messy bed hair, thinking about how Brant looked last night… our accidental touches, his easy grin, intense eyes…
“What’s your plan for today?”she asks, cutting off my thoughts.
I glance over to the window.Sunlight streams through the cracks of the blinds.“Honestly?No idea.Just...see where the day goes.”
“Is your father working or hanging around today?”
Mom asking about Dad feels like walking on eggshells, checking to see if he’s still the man she left behind.I glance toward the hallway, half-expecting him to appear.“I don’t know.Haven’t seen him yet.But we’ve been working on the house together.Cleaned out the spare room, painted it.We talked about doing more.”
“Are you still ready to bolt back to the city?”
A week ago, I would’ve said yes, but now...after painting with Dad, after seeing him laugh at the thrift shop, after… Brant.The job is waiting, my dream, yet the thought of leaving doesn’t feel right in my gut.“No, it's better.He knows I got the position back in the city after residency.”
She draws in a sharp breath.“And how did he take it?”
“As well as you’d expect.”
She chuckles.“So, not great.”
“No, but...weirdly, he’s been different the last couple of days.”
“Different how?”she asks gently.“Better or worse?”
I pause, debating whether to say more.Telling her he might be changing feels risky.But he won’t move to New York, so I answer.
“Better.Like he’s actually trying.”
“I’m glad, sweetheart.I really am.”
Her voice is warm and genuine.I think about Nancy at the thrift shop, the way he smiled.Maybe he’s finally ready to let someone in.
“I miss you,” she says suddenly.“It’s quiet here.Lonely.”
