by Marni MacRae
Nick is silent while he drives, and after sneaking a few glances at his expression, I begin to wonder what he is thinking. I can still feel the texture of his lips against mine when I close my eyes. Although he is being perfectly pleasant and the conversation is light, I feel there is something beneath the surface he is not saying.
I have no idea how to handle the kiss. Do I ask about it? Do I behave as if it never happened? He had said we are friends, and that eases my fear. But he also said that I am his undoing and that he will deal with it. I am at a loss as to what that meant.
My first day out of my hospital room, and I am already thrust into a situation that is so far beyond me I feel a bit lost and intimidated. Not by Nick. He is patient and attentive, and he feels safe to me. But by how I feel about Nick. Those emotions feel far from safe. They feel large and thrilling and dangerous. I worry letting myself get caught up in something I don’t understand only to find Nick has “dealt with it” and moved on.
I need to learn to deal with it. I resolve to ask Laurel what I should do. She seems to be happy with Tuck and has far more experience with men than I do. I have none. Or do I? I wonder again as Nick navigates the streets of Brighton Valley if I am married. If I have a child or children. Do I have a family and know exactly what it feels like to be kissed? To be loved? Am I being untrue to someone who is searching for me by feeling this way about Nick, kissing him in hospital hallways? I have vowed to move forward as it is the only choice available to me, but I can’t help but worry about what I may have left behind.
“So, what’s this list that Laurel mentioned?”
I’m pulled from my thoughts by Nick’s deep voice, and I turn my face from the passenger window to find him looking at me. His expression is curious and a bit concerned.
“List?” I think back to Laurel handing me the file and realize he is referring to the list Laurel and I had made that morning during breakfast. “Oh, well, Dr. Eston put together a list of questions for Laurel to ask on various subjects. It was actually quite fun. It’s designed to establish what I know in certain areas and help tease out memories and get subconscious reflexes involved.” I grin widely remembering the questions. “Turns out, I know quite a bit. The list Laurel mentioned is all the things I don’t know.”
“You made a list of everything you don’t know? That seems…daunting.”
“Well, that list would be too long. What I mean is the things brought up since I…woke up that I don’t understand. Like carbonated. Or pro bono. And color names.” I shrug my shoulders. “I want to understand. Laurel suggested keeping a list, and when I see her, she will help answer them.”
Nick is quiet for a while, and then he turns and gives me a soft smile. “That’s a good plan, Eve.” His tone is soft, almost sad, and I wonder what he is thinking. “If you feel comfortable, feel free to ask me anything that confuses you or pick away at the list. I hope you trust me enough to know I’ll always be honest with you.”
“I do trust you, Nick. And thank you. For everything. I am in your debt.”
Nick winces and shakes his head but says nothing more on the topic. I wonder if I hurt his feelings somehow, and he drives in silence for a while. A few minutes pass before Nick turns the truck into a parking lot and shuts off the engine.
“Where are we?” Looking out the windshield, I see a brightly painted building on a street that must be downtown Brighton Valley. From our drive, I am guessing it is the only street in downtown. “This can’t be Ms. Thornton’s.”
“No. I told Ezra I was taking you to lunch. I thought I would surprise you with a burger and chocolate cake.”
Nick is grinning and it’s infectious.
“That sounds wonderful.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab the file from the seat of the truck. “I’ll show you the list of questions Doctor Eston had Laurel ask me while we eat.”
Approaching the door of Mel’s diner—as the signage above the large front window proclaims—I see a smaller sign in the door of the glass. “No shirt, no shoes, no service.” I can’t imagine someone trying to enter a public place without a shirt, but I glance down at my feet still covered in the flimsy paper hospital slippers. My cuts and scrapes seemed to heal overnight. At least I feel no pain from them anymore. But I am not sure paper slippers constitute shoes.
Nick notices my hesitation and follows my gaze to the sign. “Don’t worry.” He leans over and whispers, “I know the owner. Just follow me and no one will say a word.” He pulls open the door and reaches for my hand.
As we step inside, I’m hit full in the face by an aroma that sets my mouth to watering. Spices and warm food scent the air like a thick, invisible fog. I hear my stomach growl just as Nick pulls me to a table with a long red bench seat on both sides.
“No one will notice your feet in the booth,” Nick states as he takes the seat across from me. “I called ahead and set up our order and asked Kim not to let anyone bother us.”
“Kim?” I glance around and see quite a few diners looking boldly in our direction. A few point at me and murmur to co-diners, but none approach. I am beginning to wonder if a cheeseburger is worth the scrutiny. It makes me feel uncomfortable. Like I am in a spotlight.
“Kim is my mother’s oldest friend. They grew up here in Brighton Valley. She and her husband opened the diner thirty years ago. It’s been a hit ever since.”
“Who’s Mel?” I wonder, remembering the sign over the window.
“Their daughter. But don’t ask about Melanie. She went off to New York to become a big-time doctor. Kim won't stop once you get her going on the subject of Mel.” Nick smiles and leans back in the booth. “Apparently she’s curing cancer and saving the world. She may also have super human healing powers and can leap tall buildings in a single bound. It’s a wonder any disease is left with Dr. Melanie out there with her ginormous brain.”
I get that Nick is teasing even though I don’t understand a few of the references. He seems rather proud of Melanie himself, and I wonder if they are friends.
“Kim must be very proud.”
“Humph,” is all Nick offers to that. “So, this list, tell me what you learned.” He leans forward with his elbows on the table and gives me his full attention.
“Well,” I smile and begin my tale, “Laurel brought me pancakes and strawberries for breakfast, and then we spent hours going through this list of categories.”
“What kind of categories?” Nick picks up one of my hands from the table and idly plays with my fingers. It’s completely distracting and wonderfully thrilling. Such a small gesture to make me feel so much. I tamp back the butterflies in my stomach and pretend it is hunger. For hamburgers, not Nick. Clearing my throat, I allow that small lie to myself and continue.
“Well, like colors and food and states. Geography. Language. She asked me to define a crazy amount of words and list as many things in a category as I could. Like animals. You’d be surprised. She narrowed it down to mammals, reptiles and insects. That kind of thing. It was hard, but funny, too. How many insects can you name?”
“Oh, well, at least two I think.” Nick grins, eliciting a chuckle from me.
“I named fifteen. Beat that.”
“Really?” Nick sits back again and lets my fingers fall back to the cool table top. I almost regret challenging him, but without the contact, I am immediately able to think clearer. “Challenge accepted. What do I get if I can name sixteen?”
“What do you want?” I’m excited to see if I can beat Nick at the insect competition. It would add a lot to my confidence considering I feel at such a deficit in so many areas.
Nick doesn’t answer right away, and I study his face, wondering what he could be willing to wager on a simple game. His eyes have gone stormy again, and I feel a tingle start low in my belly with the intense gaze he is piercing me with. After a few seconds, his eyes trail down my face to my lips, and I self-consciously wet them with my tongue. Nick closes his eyes and takes a breath. When he opens them, they are focused on min
e again.
“I want a date. With you.”
“Oh.” It comes out on an exhale as the tingle turns to a warmth, and I wet my lips again. “All right.”
I have no reason to argue, and I don’t think I could find words right now anyway. Nick turns my mind to mush with a touch, a look. Learn to deal with it, hums in the back of my mind, and I suppress a laugh. Easier said than done, I shoot back.
“Ok, Nick, sixteen for a date. If you lose?”
“I will owe you a favor. Anything you want. We can write up a contract.” He winks, and I see him physically relax as he reaches for a napkin. He glances up past my shoulder and raises his left hand in a gesture simulating writing in the air to someone behind me. A moment later a young girl in her late teens brings a pen and hands it to Nick. She doesn’t look at him once, her eyes on me, scrutinizing my face, my clothes. It’s as if, in the few seconds she is at our table, she is trying to absorb every detail of me for a retelling later.
“Thanks, Trish,” Nick says pointedly, and the girl hurries away, still looking over her shoulder at me as she leaves.
I take a breath and pretend we are alone in the diner. No one ogling, no one whispering. Just Nick and I having a nice lunch and playing name-an-insect.
Turning my attention away from all the eyes glancing furtively at me, I focus on Nick. I see he has quickly drawn up a contract on the dinner napkin. He signs the flimsy paper with a flourish and slides it across the table to me.
I read the neat handwriting and laugh aloud. I, Nick Donovan, of semi-sound mind and mostly-sound body, do promise one unlimited favor to one Eve Brighton of medically-proven-sound mind and smoking hot body. I can feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment but look at Nick anyway.
“Done.” I reach across the table, and we shake hands firmly. “Begin.”
“Oh, man, OK. Ant, mosquito, fly, grasshopper, um…ladybug, cockroach, flea. How many is that?”
“Seven.”
“I have more, give me a sec—”
At that moment Trish returns bearing two plates of food and places them in front of us. She quickly hurries away without one glance in my direction. I have the distinct impression someone reprimanded her for her ogling. I feel a bit sorry for her, but then I’m distracted by the wonderful aroma steaming from my plate.
“Burger and fries. Best in Kentucky. Guaranteed.”
“Oh, my gosh, Nick. I will never be able to eat all that food.” I look up at him as he reaches for his burger with both hands. “But I am going to try,” I proclaim happily.
“Atta girl.” Nick nods and smiles back, then he dives into his meal.
For a while, we don’t speak as we eat, aside from the few moans of pleasure that escape as the burger proclaims itself to my taste buds and makes good on Nick’s promise. It is the best thing I have ever eaten. Not just as Eve, but ever. I sense it in the soul of each of my cells as the burger makes its way into my system and delights each passing structure. My mouth, my tongue, my throat, swallowing to make room for more. My belly that fills up quickly but doesn’t complain as I force another bite.
“Oh, my goodness, Nick, this is the best thing ever created.”
“Mmhm…” He munches on his fries, and I sit back, a third of my burger left uneaten, but I just can’t fit any more in.
“Kim is a genius. Must be where Mel gets it.”
Nick chuckles and wipes his mouth, then his fingers, with a paper napkin. He sips on his Pepsi, which I noticed had been set before him as Trish had set a glass of milk before me. Nick leans back with satisfaction and gives an agreeing smile.
“Yeah, she sure knows how to make an exceptional burger. But I’m not finished.”
“You're still hungry?” I’m amazed. The burger and portion of fries were huge. Surely he couldn’t want more.
“No, not with eating. I am definitely done eating. I am not done beating you. There have to be more insects in here.”
He taps the side of his head, and I burst out laughing.
“Maybe you should rephrase that,” I suggest through my giggles.
He realizes the mistake and chuckles. “OK, I’m certain I can win a date with the lovely Eve Brighton. I’m at seven yes?”
“Yes.” I finish my glass of milk and retrieve a pile of napkins. After cleaning my mouth and fingers, I begin writing down the insects he has already named. “OK, try for eight.”
“Firefly. Dragonfly. Praying mantis.” Nick is slower this time as he thinks about the insect world, and I have a feeling he may not beat me.
“Beetle.” A minute passes and Nick closes his eyes. “Termite.” Another minute goes by and finally, he opens his eyes and smiles. “I think you got me. I don’t even know if any of those qualify as an insect, but I can’t think of another one.”
“They were all on my list, and Laurel didn’t say they weren’t insects, so great job! Twelve. That’s pretty good.”
“But not good enough.”
“Nope, I’m afraid not, friend Nick.” I reach out my hand toward him. “Gimme.”
Laughing, Nick places the contract in my hand, grabbing my fingers before I can pull them away. Catching my eyes, he lowers his voice and leans toward me. “Use it wisely.”
I smilingly fold the napkin in half and place it in my file.
Nick watches and a thoughtful expression crosses his face.
“You need a purse.”
His eyes travel to my blouse, and I know he is thinking of my paper-clad feet and ratty skirt.
“And a wardrobe.”
“Ms. Thornton said Ezra got me some clothes, but…” I trail off not wanting to frown upon good will.
“But you don’t like the charity.”
“No.” I admit. “She is already doing so much, and although I know I will earn my keep and work in her garden as an exchange, I don’t like accepting clothing and necessities from others. I feel I owe everyone so much already.”
“I can understand that sentiment.”
“You can?”
I had expected Nick to argue. To tell me everyone was trying to help, which is how I have excused the abundance of charitable help so far. But I still feel beholden. Indebted.
“Oh, sure, it would drive me crazy. Having a job and earning your own way carries a sense of pride and independence that shapes a person. I’m sure that working for Ms. Thornton will be a fair payoff for room and board, but you should have your own spending money. Every woman needs to shop for clothes, shoes, makeup. It’s written in their DNA.”
Nick tilts his head to the side and squints at me. I can tell an idea is brewing and I wonder what gears are churning in there. I’m nervous it’s more charity.
“Would you like a job?”
That was not what I had expected. “A job?”
“Yes, would you like a job where you could earn your own money. Fairly. No charity, no special treatment.”
“Well…yes, of course, that would be amazing. But what could I do? I don’t even know what skills I have or who would hire me.”
“I would.” Nick leans forward and takes my hands as Trish clears the plates away, leaving just as quickly as she appeared. “Before you say no, or think this is a favor or charity, let me explain.”
I nod my head and relax into my seat, entwining my fingers with Nick’s as he takes a breath to forge ahead. “Ok, tell me what you’re thinking.”
Nick sighs as if relieved to be given a chance to sell his idea and smiles before he begins.
“I own a construction company. We’re building a subdivision on the north side of town. The plan is for twenty houses, and we’re just reaching the halfway mark.”
I hope Nick doesn’t think I can build something. I dread him offering something that I will have to refuse. The thought of a real job and earning my way is tantalizing.
“When the homes are finished, we hire a cleaner to go through and clean the homes before they are shown to potential buyers. I haven’t posted the ad for a cleaner yet, but the opening
is there. The job is yours if you want it.”
“Cleaning?” I ask, suddenly interested. I am certain I can clean, that’s an easy decision. And I would work hard, do a good job. There’s no way I would take a job and then disappoint Nick. “Cleaning homes sounds like something I could do well.”
“Yes. It’s actually hard work, although cleaning sounds easy. The homes are new, but there are so many different people in and out over the duration of construction that they need to be detailed. A few of the homes don’t have the water on in them yet, but by the time you reach that end of the subdivision, they should be set up.”
Nick looks eagerly at me, and I can see he is really hoping I will take the job.
“Look, think about it for a few days. I’ll come by over the weekend, take you on a tour of one of the homes to give you an idea of what would be involved. If you want the job, it’s yours. If not, then I’ll simply put up the ad for a cleaner next week.”
“I like the idea.” I squeeze Nick’s fingers and grin. “I think I could do it, but that’s a good plan. I would love to see the homes and see what you do. I’m pretty sure I will say yes though.”
Nick’s smile is wide as he squeezes my fingers in return. “That would be great. It’s part-time so you would still have time to work with the thorn queen. And no weekends, maybe three days a week, four hours a day. I’ll write up the details for you to go over when I pick you up for the tour.”
“OK.”
“OK.” Nick lets out a breath as if he had been holding it. I feel warmed once again that I was lucky enough to be on the highway when this particular person was traveling down it. Nick is quickly becoming necessary to me. I don’t need him as I had feared I would when I pushed him away at the hospital yesterday. But I do want him. As a friend…and more. I set that thought aside quickly and smile kindly at this man who so solidly set himself in my heart.
“Ready to go home?”
Chapter 13
The doors of Ms. Thornton’s “palace” are intimidating. Nick had offered to stay and help me get acquainted with my new home, but I insisted he leave. I’ve already accepted so much from him. I feel the need to stand on my own two feet, take my own steps into the world without Nick as my crutch. I want so badly to be his equal, to not be a stray animal he rescued and needs to constantly tend to.