Page 7 of Serenity & the Hermit
“Uh-uh,” Nelson says, shifting uncomfortably as the woman continues beaming at him.
“I see your cousins at the bar a lot.”
“That’s because they own it.”
“Their wives are always so happy with their Soulwink Society jackets on. It’s got all the single ladies in town jealous—”
“We’re just here so Serenity can see the doctor,” Nelson interjects before she can continue.
“We?” Her face falls as she looks back to me. “Oh. So this isyoursoulwink?” Her eyes study me before she releases a sigh. “Figures,” she mutters, handing Nelson a clipboard and suddenly looking bored. “Fill it out and bring it back to me. Doctor Metcalfe is busy, so it might be a while.”
“Excellent,” I say under my breath as Nelson guides me away and we take a seat in the waiting area.
“Need me to fill this out for you?” he asks, holding the clipboard out to me.
I glance down at my hand in the sling. “Well, yeah, I guess. I’m left-handed so…” I wiggle the fingers of my prone left arm, and he gives me a nod, positioning himself so he can lean on his thick thighs while writing—with his left hand. “Looks like we have something in common,” I say.
“Supposedly we’re very artistic, but I can’t draw for shit,” he says, holding the pen above the first line. “Full name.”
“Oh…” I didn’t think this part through…
“Oh?” Nelson looks at me with his brow knitted in question.
“Um… Maybe I’ll just try writing with my other hand. It can’t be that hard, right?”
I reach out to try and take the pen, but Nelson holds fast. “You think I can’t spell ‘Serenity’ or something?”
“Uh, it’s not that. It’s…” I look around the room and lower my voice. “Serenity isn’t my real name.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just the name I go by. Serenity by nature, you know? So, it was a good choice to use as my personal name too—especially being a plus-sized yoga instructor. You might not know this, but it isn’t easy for a big girl like me to stand up in front of a room full of people wearing Lycra every day. I look nothing like your typical yoga instructor, but with a name like Serenity, at least I sound like one.”
We lock eyes for a long moment, those soft, green eyes of his making me feel more at ease than I ever have been around a member of the opposite sex. I don’t know what it is about him, but I feel like I could tell him anything and he’d understand. Is that crazy considering everything that’s happened so far?
“What’s your real name?” he asks softly.
I roll my lips together and swallow. “You have to promise not to laugh.”
“Scouts honor,” he says, drawing a cross over his heart with a thick finger.
“I don’t think that’s how the scouts do it, but OK.” Taking a deep breath, I lean in a little closer, whispering the most embarrassing thing about myself into his ear.
Nelson goes very still and quiet. Then he presses his lips together and starts writing it down. He gets about halfway before his shoulders begin shaking. And it’s when he writes the final letter that a nasally snort comes out and he claps his hand over his mouth.
“You promised!” I hiss, swiping the pen and clipboard with my free hand and turning away from him, sitting sideways on my chair with my back blocking his view as I fill in the rest of the form with wobbly right-handed scrawl and Nelson dissolves into a giggling mess behind me.
When I’m done with the form, I take it up to reception and return to the man, wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his fingers while he wheezes trying to catch his breath.
“Some stoic grump you are,” I say, plonking back into my seat with a scowl. “I can’t believe you’re laughing at that. What are you? Five?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he says, taking a few breaths to calm down. “I just…I wasn’t expectingthat. It took me by surprise. I mean, who on earth calls their child—”
“Fanny Longbottom?” the doctor calls out, loud enough for the entire room to hear it.
My face goes beet-red, and I contemplate opening my studio in another town all together. Or maybe just….I don’t know…turning invisible?
“Here,” Nelson says, clearing his throat as he stands and helps me up, his voice thankfully absent of the mirth it contained moments ago. “We’re over here.”
