Page 30 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Chapter Fourteen
Summer
I’ll be your person.I’ll be your person!!!
My whole being screamed the thoughts in the wake of his confession. No family. No one left. The genuine and lasting grief etched on his face as he spoke told me his childhood had been different from mine. He’d loved, desperately, his parents and his grandmother. And they were gone. My mind raced with questions—what about aunts and uncles? Cousins? No other grandparents? But if that were the case, he wouldn’t have said it that way—she was his last person. His last relative.
I could see that idea—being the only one left—haunted him. I wanted to understand more, talk more, but hugging him seemed right. And it had felt right. He’d melted into it, and I didn’t think I flattered myself by saying he felt genuinely comforted by it.
He’d left not long after, both of us needing to move on with our mornings so we could get to post safely and on time. Somehow, before I left, he’d slipped a note on my doorstep. I only knew this because I’d looked carefully while leaving the house, half a hope in my mind for the very thing.
Summer,
Thank you for a delicious breakfast and for yet again catering to my preferences. It should be said that the omelet tasted better than any I’ve ever eaten, but I’m not surprised.
What I’m writing to thank you for, more than the food, is your company. And to ask your forgiveness. The night of the fest, I wasn’t myself. My mind and heart were cloudy, and I couldn’t take in much. I know this—I know I wasn’t myself—because if I had been, and I’d met you, I would remember. As it is, I routinely catalogue every interaction we’ve ever had, so the fact that I don’t remember what is evidently our first encounter plagues me.
I bet you were lovely. I know you were beautiful—this is fact, and true at every moment, so it must’ve been then.
My apologies for the unfocused thoughts. I couldn’t leave for work without telling you how thankful I feel to have spent this morning sipping your hot coffee and kissing your perfect lips.
Have a good day,
Nick
* * *
By two that day, I was dragging. But not in the way you’d think—not that afternoon lull, I’ve-been-here-forever-and-I-still-have-miles-to-go feeling. More like,all I want to do is go kiss Nick Masters’ face off, but I can’t because we both have jobs.
The letter!Kissing your perfect lips.I mean, really.
The clinic had been pretty slow—probably due to the snow. People who would’ve come in for something minor decided not to, plus we had to reschedule everyone who would’ve shown up for an appointment during those first few hours when the clinic was closed.
Every time I saw Major Hall lately, I couldn’t help feeling a little fizz of excitement. She’d asked me to apply for the job. That had to be a good sign. No—itwas. I could embrace that and run with it. I’d also come up with a community project to help develop my credentials as a manager. Of course, no amount of volunteering would designate me as a capable manager of a group of nurses in a clinic—that was a practical qualifier only on-the-job experience would nail down. But I could beef up my general leadership experience. Typically, I jumped into events or projects that organizations around post created and did whatever they needed. This was my chance to facilitate and have a more recent, community-specific example of managerial action on my resumé, and hopefully a few good talking points for the interview.
I had two months to get it together, execute, and then take the results and all the rest of my professional experience and lay them at the committee’s feet. So far, thinking about that impending change was the only thing I could shift my focus to that would get my mind off Nick.
Mostly because I didn’t want to get my mind off of him. He made me feel like my heart was walking around on tiptoes. It didn’t make sense, but I felt all fluttery. In fact, I felt that so much, I’d taken my pulse and BP—normal. Maybe slightly accelerated because I sat there, counting, remembering how Nick’s calloused hands felt on my cheeks.
“Hello there, Nurse Applegate.”
Rob’s voice brought me back the moment. I stood outside my office door leaning on the frame, staring out the window at the beautiful, glittering snow, and turned to find my friend grinning at me.
“Hey. Why are you here?”
Not that seeing people I knew while at work was at all unusual. In fact, working at the clinic in a small community like Kugelfels meant I got to know almost everyone, whether they ended up my team’s patients or not. I liked that.
He smiled widely. “Glad to see you too.”
I started to protest, but he waved me off with a laugh.
“Just getting a physical. You have to have one within two weeks of the competition, and then of course you have a general check there. I don’t think they do blood tests at this level yet.”
“It’s coming up quick. I read through all the regulations and everything I could find on what I’m supposed to do, but there isn’t much.” I’d scoured the organization’s website and all the information Rob had sent.
“You’ll do great. Plus, none of us are getting hurt, so you don’t have to worry.” He wiggled his brows, the cheeseball.
“Fine then.”
