Page 42 of Doctorshipped
“Exactly. That’s my smart girl. Don’t ever forget how smart you truly are. Anyway, those two are both north.”
“But they don't seem to push one another away. They are really kind to each other.”
“Because they are both kind. Both north. But, believe me. A man like Brooks would bore Jayme. She needs a challenge. And anyway, she’s decided to be single.”
“Do you think she means it?”
“I hope so,” I mumble as I turn right onto the gravel driveway that seems to be the one I’m looking for. The directions for getting out here were not traditional.Take the road going out of town. When you see the sign that says “White’s Farm Stand—Corn When In Season,” you turn left. Then you go until you see that farm with the broken down barn.
(There were more than one of those. Not that all the barns are in disrepair, most aren’t, but several are.)
It won’t be the first broken down barn—goodness, that one needs to be condemned and torn down. That’s the Clawson place. It’s not the next one either—the one with the sagging roof. That’d be the Urner’s place. It’s the third one with the rusting gate by the road. Then you go about five or six parcels down and you’ll see a tree with a big dent in it from when Em ran smack dab into it with her car. ’Course that was quite a storm. Anyway, that’s the place. Just drive up the driveway and park anywhere you can.
Haven’t these people heard of naming roads, or numbering properties?
We drive up the driveway. Cars line the side of the gravel and are pulled off onto an expanse of packed dirt just beyond a two-story white farmhouse. A decent-sized barn sits on the other side of the dirt just next to what looks like an animal enclosure. Fields surround the whole property, some cultivated, some left wild.
“It’s perfect out here!” Fiona exclaims, thankfully distracted from her role as amateur matchmaker. “Isn’t it perfect?”
“It’s nice.”
“Nice is your word for perfect. You don’t fool me, Daddy.”
“Good thing. No one else seems to get me but you.”
“You don’t let them close is why.”
And with that insightful comment, my daughter bounds out of the car and runs toward where she sees Jayme and Shannon along with some other women who were with them at the burger place.
15
JAYME
Fiona comes running up, giving hugs to each one of my friends as if she’s known them her whole life. She makes the rounds, leaving a stream of smiles in her wake and ends with me.
“Hi, Miss Jayme! Can you believe my dad actually agreed to come tonight?”
I chuckle and shake my head, holding back the many things I’d love to say about Grant. Fiona possesses this easy balance between seeing Grant for the grump that he is, and adoring him for the sweet side of himself he seems to save for her alone.
Trevor walks over and stands behind Lexi, looping his hands around her and rubbing her baby belly. Then he remains there with his arms surrounding her. She leans back on him and tilts her head up. Their eyes meet and they hold this secret between the two of them for a beat.
When Trevor looks over at Fiona, he says, “My niece and nephew are here somewhere. I’ll introduce you in a minute.”
Then he turns to me. “Lex tells me you need a place to stay.”
I shoot her a look. “I will be moving out of our house in three weeks when Shannon moves into Duke’s.”
“You’re welcome at our place. It’s a constant mess with the renovations, and we’ve got a toddler, as you know. But that downstairs room off the kitchen is just sitting there empty, and there’s the full bath across the hall from it. You could take those for as long as you need. My mom’s caring for Poppy weekdays while Lex and I go to work, so you would have the house to yourself—lots of peace and quiet to write those books of yours.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
“Isn’t it though?” Trevor looks down at Lexi. “Your parents have Poppy for the night and I’m really sweet. Let’s head home early.”
Lexi gives Trevor a playful shove and he kisses her on the temple. And that feeling I had watching Shannon and Duke the other night floods me. Maybe it’s the impact of Shannon getting married. I’m losing my roommate. It’s a big adjustment. Up until now, I always felt like I had my person. Shannon was the place I came home to. She keeps the house full of life. When I need to talk, she’s there for me. Every morning I make her a smoothie. Now she’ll be living with Duke, starting a life with him.
I don’t think third-wheel is a good analogy. At least the third wheel feels like it’s a part of the bigger picture, needed, included. These days I feel more like a spare tire.
I always imagined I’d be content when all my friends paired off into their lifetime relationships. And eventually, I’ll adjust, and I’ll be ecstatic for them all the way to my toes. Right now all this third-wheeling, or spare-tiring, makes me long for my own special relationship—not romance, of course, just my person.
