Page 85 of Holiday Star
“Well, it was a TV series instead of a movie, but my favorite isBand of Brothers. I like the way those guys supported each other. I’ve always been moving around and so busy with work that I’ve never really had a chance to make friends like that.”
It’s impossible to miss the note of longing in his voice. “Were you lonely?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “I was until I met you.”
We’re at the hospital doors. I walk in before he sees how much that last answer affected me.
The ER is running behind all day. Overflowing with patients until they spill out of the waiting room and onto the sidewalk. I stay late to finish my charting. By the time I’m done, it’s an hour after the official end of my shift.
Still, when I exit the revolving doors, Caleb is lurking in the shadows with his hat pulled low and a newspaper in front of his face so no one can recognize him.
I breeze past, and he runs to catch up to me.
“What are your questions tonight? Oh, and, by the way, I noticed you never answered mine this morning.” He says it lightly, as if he’s liking this game.
I think back, trying to remember. “Favorite food is also chocolate.”
“See.” He bumps me with his elbow, grinning. “We have so much in common.”
My lips twitch, but I suppress my smile. “Favorite movie,When Harry met Sally.” I look fondly around me, at the tree-lined street and rushing cars. “That movie made me fall in love with New York before I’d ever set foot here.”
We’re halfway to my apartment. “The last question was if I’m lonely, and the answer is that I was when you left me.” I cut my eyes over to him with a glare.
Caleb blanches visibly, and the people-pleasing part of me wants badly to take it back. But new Gwen lets it lie there between us. He hurt me, and it’s okay to acknowledge that.
“Next set of questions,” I declare after a sorrowful pause. “Favorite book?”
“Hmm.” Caleb scratches his chin. “Tough one. I likeReady Player One. How about you?”
“That’s easy. Any novel by Stephen King.”
He laughs. “I should’ve guessed.”
“Favorite song?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “The one I wrote about you.”
My heart spasms.
“Last question. You said earlier that you didn’t have time to make a lot of friends, but do you have a best friend? Like Jenny is to me?” I ask, genuinely curious.
Again, no hesitation. “I do have friends, but none of them know me the way you do.So I guess that means it’s you, Gwen. You’re my best friend.”
Damn Caleb Freaking Lawson. He makes it so difficult to stay mad at him.
56
The next morning, I discover that Caleb is allergic to bee stings, likes dogs better than cats—a new decision based solely on his experience with Pip—and has a fear of creepy clowns who live in sewers. By the time he drops me off at the hospital, I’m smiling, just a little.
When he picks me up that night, we walk in a companionable silence.
“What? No questions tonight?” he asks teasingly after the second block.
“No,” I sigh, tired after an extra-draining shift. “I don’t have the energy.”
“Okay.” He swings his arms as he strolls along. “Can you tell me about your day?”
Slowly at first, but gathering more speed, I share stories from the hospital with him. All about the most interesting cases and the hard ones, too. Caleb listens intently, asking questions about the parts he doesn’t understand.
