Page 80 of Finding Jack
“Is he worried about Jack or just wanting to hook him up?”
She sighed. “He’s worried. Sean is snapping out of it. He’s getting restless. I don’t think it’ll be long before he’s back in Portland or somewhere else in nursing full-time. But I don’t think he’s going to do pediatrics again. Jack…I don’t know. Sean thought it would be so good for him to be outdoors more, reconnecting with the basics. Like unofficial therapy. And he says Jack is happy when he’s outdoors, but that he’s still not connecting with other people. Not even with his patients as much. And definitely not on dates.”
“Okay. So Jack’s not dating. Should I worry about that?”
“I’m saying…I don’t know. Be gentle with him, I guess.”
“There’s nothing to worry about here. We’re being honest about what this relationship is, which is platonic. We’re not going to date, so no flirting in our conversations.”
“Whose idea was it that you guys shouldn’t talk about the other dates you go on?”
“His.”
“That doesn’t sound like a guy who doesn’t care.”
“I wouldn’t like hearing about his other dates either. Not right now. But as we get into this friend groove, I think it won’t be such a big deal. You make him sound like he has no idea how to handle women, and I’m liable to crush him or something.”
“That’s definitely not it.” She shook her head. “He’s not shy or inexperienced or whatever. I think he’s had plenty of relationships. I just worry he’s in a tough place right now.”
“He was closed off before, and now he’s open to talking about everything he didn’t want to talk about. That sounds like progress to me.”
She was only half-listening, running her fingers along her lips again. It was adorable. “What? Oh, right. Good point.” She smiled. “Good, then. I like Jack. It’s nice to think he’s coming out of it.”
I’d met Sean a few times when he came to visit Ranée, and he hadn’t struck me as an over worrier then, but now I wondered. He almost acted more like Jack’s mom than his friend. It must be those same nurturing instincts that had drawn him to nursing in the first place. I wondered how Jack felt about all the hovering. I’d have to ask him the next time we talked.
The next time we talked.I let that phrase sink in and enjoyed the shape of it for a minute. There would be a next time. Jack and I could talk whenever we wanted, about whatever we wanted. There would be no coy games over whose turn it was to call or text.
“You know what’s great about this new balance Jack and I have now?”
“Tell me,” Ranée said.
“I can text him as often as I text you without worrying about how he’ll take it. We’re friends now. Frequency of texts and calls don’t mean anything, any more than it does when you and I text. Or don’t.”
“Speak for yourself. I pine for you when I don’t hear from you often enough.”
“Shut up. You don’t. He won’t. I won’t. It’s perfect.”
“Glad you’re happy.” Then she rose and drifted off to her room, a jellyfish of twitterpation.
Well, well, well. File that under “Stuff I Wouldn’t Have Predicted in a Million Years.”
Chapter 29
By Monday I could predict that the week would be about a five thousand percent improvement over the previous one in terms of productivity and Jack. Not that he was the measure of whether a week was good or bad, but it made a noticeable difference when he wasn’t a problem I had to solve. He was “around,” and I didn’t have to figure out how to distract myself from him.
I texted him a picture of a seagull hanging out on the ledge outside of my balcony. He responded,Surrender your Cheetos and he’ll leave you alone. He must take them to his leader.
Has Transcendent Seagull really transcended if he needs Cheetos for happiness?
Even swamis have to eat sometimes.
He called after dinner. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out what I want to eat. I’m out of Cheetos.”
“You should have a salad. Mondays are always salad days.”
“Is that what you’re having?”
