Page 15 of Tumbleweed Temptation
She wouldn't say she hadn’t thought about it. She thought about what it would be like to have a job where she sat down. Where her feet and legs didn’t ache at the end of the day. Where she had something more challenging—paperwork, sure, maybe some simple medical procedures—to challenge her brain.
She’d gotten used to doing things on autopilot here.
Sure she challenged her brain on her own. She’d gotten her bachelors degree online when she couldn't sleep. She’d gotten a masters, too, when she’d made enough money to take the courses without going into debt. She had thought about joining Poppy as a teacher, but no, she had no desire and no patience to teach little kids. Maybe high school. Maybe high school kids like she’d been. She didn't think she had what it took to motivate kids. She didn't understand how they couldn't motivate themselves.
So yeah, she had a masters degree in business management, but she was still waiting tables. She worked for a publishing company on the side, editing romance novels when she got home from work. Sometimes tedious, sometimes fun, sometimes painful, reminding her that she was alone.
Janine would find her side gig a betrayal. Janine wanted Ginny to take over the diner someday, when Janine retired. Janine was super protective of the business that she had inherited from her grandfather, and, well, since her daughter Bridget had died, she didn’t have anyone to pass it on to.
Janine had been pissed when Hailey had come in and transformed The Wheel House into a bar and grill, from just a bar. She’d been even more pissed when Ginny had become friends with the other woman, who was just a few years older than Ginny. But the three women had come to a peace, and Hailey had become a regular here on Sunday mornings before opening up her place. Ginny didn’t think Janine had set foot at Hailey’s place.
Ginny delivered Austin’s tea and moved on to check on her other two tables before returning to the security of the waitress station. She kept an eye on Austin, and jolted every time he met her gaze. That was weird. She didn't do that with anyone else. But she didn't see in other customers’ eyes what she saw in Austin’s.
Or maybe she was just reading that disappointment there.
She delivered his special the minute it was placed on the pass-through bar. The sooner she got him out of here, the sooner she could relax.
“Can you sit with me for a bit?” he asked. “Your other tables are gone. Can you take a break? I’d like to catch up.”
She glanced around, and saw he was right. Her other tables had left. “You said you wanted something for Melissa to go?”
“Yeah, just a salad, she said, but you can hang out here with me for a minute, can’t you?”
She didn't want to, didn't want him to pry into her life and figure out all the choices she’d made—or hadn’t made. But she couldn't think of an excuse, so she sat in the booth across from him. He gave her a quick smile that one of her writers would call dashing, or something, and her stomach erupted in butterflies, something she would insist an author reword. Such a cliche.
But really apt right now.
“So what’s new, Dr. Driscoll?” she asked, wishing she could sound more cheerful and less defensive.
“Well, there’s that. Med school was way more challenging and exhausting than I expected, but I loved it. Kinda don't know what to do with the extra time I have now, you know?”
“I’m sure that will change once you start seeing patients.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I kept putting it off, but now I think, you know, it will be good. What’ve you been up to?”
She really wasn't sure what to make of his friendly tone. They had never really been friends so she didn't know why he thought she was suddenly going to open up to him.
“What you see is what you get,” she said with a wave of her hand, and made to get out of the booth.
“I don't believe you.”
“Why don't you believe me?”
“You’d be too bored.”
She shook her head. “You don't know me anymore.” Wow, that came out a lot more forlorn than she’d intended, and she opened her mouth to take it back, but really, what could she say?
Something in his gaze shifted, became more solemn, and he nodded. “You’re right. I guess I thought I knew. I just—you know, I will never forget what you guys did for me back then. Never.”
Something in her softened. She hadn’t really been thinking of that time. She had kind of pushed it out of her mind. It had been so sad—everyone had been so sad. And angry. God, she remembered how angry Mr. McKay had been, at Mrs. Driscoll, at Con. He had been hurting, but so had Austin, and Austin hadn't really known how to deal with it. He’d been just a kid.
They hadn’t seen much of Austin that summer, and as soon as the house was sold, he moved to Waco, to Baylor. And he had never come back.
“I need to get back to work,” she said, grabbing the end of the table and sliding out of the booth.
“Ginny.”
She turned to look at him.
