Page 101 of Doctorshipped
“For what?” Fiona asks, walking into the kitchen and placing a kiss on Dad’s cheek. She wraps her arms around him, gives him a squeeze, and says, “I love you, Grandfather-wather.”
“I love you too, Feedleedee. Top of the pile. That’s you.”
All these people who toss around that word like confetti. I love them, but I’m not their breed. Love’s a sacred thing, meant to be doled out to a sparing few, not scattered willy-nilly as if it were cheap and easy to come by.
I wonder for a moment how much Fiona heard of the conversation about Jayme before she came in, but she seems oblivious.
“What were you thanking Grandoodle for?” Fiona asks, shifting her attention to me.
“For being a great dad.”
“Must run in the family,” Fiona says casually.
Dad winks at me. “It sure does.”
The day passeslike a stick frozen in thawing winter mud. I see four patients in the morning and one after lunch. Finally, it’s three thirty and Fiona bounds through the door like a ray of sun cresting through the gray of a cloudy day.
I step into the hallway and she zips past me, shouting, “Where’s my Grandpappy?”
Oh, he’ll love that one.
“Out back, deciding where we might plant a vegetable garden in the spring.”
“Ooooh, could we?”
“If you help, we can.”
“Yay!”
The screen door clatters behind Fiona. The sound of her and Dad greeting one another follows.
I walk back into my office, feeling fidgety. I haven’t seen Jayme since the barbecue. After our kiss, we kept an intentional distance from one another that whole afternoon, capturing each other's eyes every so often and smiling secret smiles across the crowd when we thought no one was looking.
It went unspoken that we couldn’t risk getting close enough to pretend to share a casual conversation. Maybe she felt as ramped up as I did. I couldn’t trust myself not to act on the intense longing and the knowledge that I’m allowed to touch her now. It’s all I’ve thought of ever since our kiss on the bleachers.
I shuffle files and do who knows what else. I could join my dad and Fiona out back and pretend to be interested in the garden plans, but I’m afraid I’ll be called to account for being overly distracted. I only have one thing on my mind and she’s due to show up any moment.
I’m staring at the clock on my wall, being of no use to anyone, when the sound of the front door captures my attention.
“Hello?”
“In here,” I say.
Jayme’s head pops through the doorway and she gives me a shy smile. Her cheeks pinken. I place my palms on the armrests of my chair to keep myself from going to her. Fiona’s home. Jayme and I will have time together later. Just the sight of her simultaneously thrills and calms me.
“Hello.”
“Well, hello there. I’m here for my position as tutor.”
“You’re hired,” I tease.
“Phew. I wasn’t sure I’d make the cut. I heard the man of the house can be a real stickler.”
“He knows a good thing when he sees it.”
“Does he?”
I grasp my armrests with just enough firmness to remind myself of the limitations of this moment. Fiona. Fiona. Fiona.
