Page 67 of Flirting with 40

“Everything okay?” I finally venture to ask.

“Just work.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“You said you needed some outdoor therapy. Does it have to do with whatever that call was about?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Okay,” I say and rest my head on his shoulder. I smell the slight scent of beer on his breath and laugh. “Should I ask what you and the husbands, boyfriends, playthings did while we were in yet another mind-numbing session, or is it better if I don’t?”

“We may have partaken in some libations, and I may have been the bartender.” He gives a short chuckle. “Needless to say, Testosterone Tom, Stoned Steven, and Baseball Bobbie might just be in good moods for tonight’s festivities.”

“How drunk are they?”

“They’re just very happy.” Yeah, I don’t want to know. Whatever bonds those guys made are theirs, so I don’t dig.

“Thank you for that,” I say and press a kiss to his shoulder in appreciation.

More silence passes between us as the sun slowly begins to fall toward the horizon and the sky begins to dance with color.

I can’t say that I mind sharing this with him.

“Tell me something about you that I don’t know,” I say, suddenly curious about who this man is.

“Like what? You know the basics.”

“Your mom. That first night we met, you said you had a meddling mom. Tell me about her. My mom is so distant and busy with her life in Michigan, that I miss the love that’s equal parts annoying and welcoming.”

“True.” He nods before falling into a contemplative silence for a beat. “She’s crazy, but she means well.”

“You said she was out here visiting?”

“Yeah, and as much as I love her, I’m glad that she’s gone.” He chuckles. “She has a way of taking over everything and knowing things before I do.”

I laugh, loving how the mere mention of her has the smile finally reaching his eyes.

“And your dad?” I ask.

“He’s incredible in his own right. He’s a plastic surgeon who only deals in reconstruction after mastectomies.”

“Is that why you got into the field?”

“I like to say I went into medicine because I want to save people, but yeah, I’m sure a part of it is that I wanted to make him proud of me.”

His candor is refreshing. I’m used to having to pull teeth to get any kind of reaction from a man.

“Why the heart?”

“Because isn’t that where everything begins and ends?” he asks, his eyes locking onto mine. “With the heart?”

I’m speechless. I’m sure he doesn’t mean his words how I take them, but they still hit me in such a profound way.

“Yes.” My tongue feels heavy in my mouth. “It’s true.”

“My mom used to be a therapist. She helped women cope with the loss that comes with that kind of surgery. Many women try to convince themselves they’re only breasts and they can live without them, but it’s a huge hit to the psyche, and she’d help them get through that.”