Page 25 of Waiting for Gilbert

“Ope, it’s fine, really?—”

“Sit.”

I huff and fall into the pleather chair with wooden arms. It’s large for my size. I easily slip my feet free of their boots and curl my legs under me. A stack ofGood HousekeepingandNebraska Farmeris spread out on the side table.

I do everything I can to ignore what’s happening on the other side of the room. And as much as Nickie invited me to chat, she and Gilbert are having their own fervent and hushed conversation. Awesome. They’re bickering like—well, either siblings or lovers.

During our drive I never asked for more details about their relationship. Pretty convenient to be besties with a doctor. “How does this work?”

They fall silent and look at me.

Too late, I turn away after noticing a red splotch on Nickie’s blue glove.

“This.” I stare at the wall and wave my hand around the room. “Is this like a friends and family discount thing? How many are gutsy enough to ask you to open your own clinic after hours instead of driving to the E.R.?”

“Gilbert Conner.” Nickie breathes out a laugh. “My darling Gil is the only one. I’d do it for my brother John, but he, unlike some men I know, never requires my services.”

Gilbert snorts, and she narrows her eyes. My face heats at the rude double meaning.

“John, the piano player?” I’ve closed my eyes because I really donotcare to see any needles or more evidence of the wound.

“Yep,” Nickie says. “He and Gil have been creating art of some kind since—” She hums. “Fifth grade?”

“At least. Remember the comic strip? That was with Mrs. Torres in third.”

“You can call her Marie now.”

“I don’t think I can. Mmmrs. Torres. See?”

They go on like this for another ten minutes, and a little part of me—correction—a big part of me, wishes I shared these memories. Gilbert and Nickie are intimately connected. Known each other since elementary school. Same circle of friends. Church, school, small-town life. Best friend’s big sister. Gilbert was probably in and out of her house like it was his own.

“Did you two ever date?”

Silence.

My bad. Was that an awkward question? I chew my lower lip and peek at them. Gilbert and Nickie gaze at each other, not me.Shoooot. What can of beans did I open?

Gilbert gives a side smile. “Yeah, we tried that once.”

“It didn’t work out.” Nickie squints at Gilbert and shakes her head.

“Sorry, that was none of my business.” And I wish I had kept my mouth shut. “You guys just seem really close, so I wondered. But yeah, sorry, that wasn’t my place to ask. Sometimes I say things?—”

“It’s fine, Cordelia.” He shrugs. “It was a long time ago. Wow.” He chuckles and shifts his gaze back to Nickie, whose head is bent over his arm. “Twelve years ago?”

She whistles low. “Senior prom.”

I picture her in a puffy yellow princess dress with her blonde hair in an updo with curled tendrils along the side of her face. Or maybe a midnight blue slinky gown with rhinestones. A yawn to beat all yawns hits me from nowhere. Of course, I crashnow.

Nickie rips off one of her gloves. “All done. Keep it clean. Remove the sutures in ten days or so.”

“Thanks, Nickie.”

“Yep, you’ve done me a favor, but I didn’t want to inflate your ego. I’m on call tonight for the E.R. so I would’ve been your girl either way. But now I get a free ticket!”

She gathers the soiled gauze and dumps it in the trash before addressing me. “Gil always pays me with a date to the Lied Center whenever a Broadway show comes through. You should join us next time. I almost thought I’d have to take myself this year.”

Gilbert stands. “She exaggerates. This is only the third time she’s opened the clinic for my sake.” They exchange a fond glance that feels too private for me.

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