Page 13 of Clara Knows Best

They sat across from each other in a duct-taped maroon booth under the large front window, and had a view through the miniblinds of the trees on Main Street wrapped in strands of white LEDs.

“Do you like living in Austin?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do.”

“You probably think we’re crazy for living out here.”

“Yeah, I do.”

She nodded. “I’m worried something’s up with my mom. Not her knee—something else. She’s being really mysterious. What if she wanted you to come out here because she has cancer or something?”

“She’s planning to retire,” he told her. “Probably going to announce it at her birthday party. Isn’t she turning sixty?”

“Fifty-five,” Clara corrected.

“She guilted me into coming here as a precursor to guilting me into buying her practice.”

She looked perplexed. “Really?”

“That’s what I think, yeah.”

“Buying her practice?”

“Yeah.”

“You would never do that, right? You have an amazing job in Austin.”

“Right.” It was true, he loved his work, and his surgical unit was the best in the whole city. On top of that, the chief was about to retire, leaving a tantalizing opening.

“You’re going up against my mom in a battle of wits,” she realized.

“Or wills.”

“This could get ugly.”

“Yep.”

“Better than cancer, though!”

“Infinitely.”

For a long moment she just stared at him, thinking. “Retiring. This explains so much.”

“Like what?”

“She moved the practice into a new building. It’s like,reallynice. Maybe she’s getting it ready for you! That’s kind of sweet, if you think about it.”

“Not if you think of it as manipulation.”

She frowned. “Oh. Well, maybe not, I guess.”

They finished their pie in silence, but as they walked out to the parking lot Clara entered a new, pensive mood and began expounding her thoughts on small-town living.

“A dozen different chicken restaurants are so easy to resist,” she was saying as he assisted her into the car. “How many different ways can you cook a chicken nugget, and who cares?”

He shut her door, walked around the car and opened his own door to find that she had not stopped talking while he was gone.

“...and I know me. If I live within a mile of a Chipotle, I’mgoingto that Chipotle. Maybe every day, Jesse. And it’s like, yeah, there are vegetables, but like, I don’t know how long ago they cooked their rice. Do you know what I mean?”

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