Hopelessly Perfect

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by S. E. Rose


  Ugh. I curse at myself a few times as I walk to my car. I decide to go see the one person that helps keep my head on straight. My grandmother. I dial her from my Bluetooth in my car.

  “Nana?” I say as she picks up the call.

  “Lanie? Is that you, sweetheart?”

  “Yep. Fancy some lunch?”

  “Of course!”

  Nana Betty is my mom’s mom. She’s adorable and sweet and silly, but she also has a serious side. And she’s super smart. She was a nurse. She served in World War II—that’s how she met PopPop Bob. She used to babysit us when mom was still working as a school nurse, but then mom ended up staying home by the time Kylie came. Nana always kept up with her visits and outings with us.

  I drive to my grandparents’ home on autopilot. They don’t live far from my parents. PopPop Bob was an engineer and worked at Fort Meade. They are the perfect couple with three perfect daughters. They also are always supportive of me and my siblings and our cousins.

  I pull into their driveway and head inside without knocking. To my parents’ constant dismay, they never lock their doors. They did let my dad install a video doorbell, but neither of them likes to use it.

  “I’m here,” I call out. The smell of my grandmother’s cooking hits me before I get an answer.

  “In the kitchen,” Nana Betty yells. She’s Italian, and she can cook. I hate to stereotype, but she’s a walking stereotype. Short, cute as a button, talkative, opinionated, passionate, excellent chef, and all about her family—that’s Nana in a few words.

  “Have a seat, and tell me what’s up. The lasagna still has ten minutes,” she says as she packs a few bowls away in a cupboard. I grin as she uses a step stool that she’s had in her house forever. I used to sit on it and watch her cook. One of my earliest memories is watching her peel tomatoes at the sink while I sat on that step stool and chatted away about who knows what. She’s a great listener.

  “I’m taking a vacation.”

  “So I heard.”

  “Word travels fast.”

  She laughs. “Lanie, you should know by now that there are zero secrets in this family, especially once you share them outside of your siblings.”

  “Mom always tells you everything,” I lament.

  “I trained my girls well. Those three always share what’s on their mind.”

  I run a finger over the Formica countertops that need replacing. “Do you . . . how do you get something out of your head when it shouldn’t be there?”

  Nana laughs, pausing to look me in the eyes. “Oh, my goodness, you like a boy.” I groan because the way she says it makes me feel like I’m thirteen and have my first crush.

  “I like a man,” I correct her with a pointed look.

  She slaps her hands together. “Bob! Lanie likes a boy!”

  I bury my head in my hands and shake it as I hear my PopPop walk into the kitchen.

  “Lanie-panie! You aren’t old enough to like boys!”

  “Hi, PopPop. And yes, I am.”

  My grandfather wraps his arms around me, and I hug him back. He smells like pipe tobacco. It’s a habit he hasn’t shaken, even though my mom and her sisters always yell at him about it.

  “Well, you better bring this boy by so we can approve him.”

  I roll my eyes, debating for a brief second if I should come clean about who my crush is. I decide to go with brutal honesty. “PopPop, you already know him.”

  Nana’s eyes sparkle with curiosity. Nana. She’s always trying to play matchmaker. She just loves romance, movies, books, actual couples. It’s adorable, except when she’s trying to set you up with someone, which I have had happen several times. Let’s just say her attempts didn’t end well.

  “You gonna tell us, or do we have to guess?”

  I sigh and go back to tracing the fake marble pattern on the counter. “Brixton,” I mumble.

  “Who’s that, dear?”

  “Brixton,” I say louder.

  “Tabby’s big brother?” Nana asks.

  I nod. I know my cheeks are pink.

  “Oh, I do adore him. And he’s so handsome.”

  “He’s a doctor. I approve,” PopPop says with a wink. “Lunch almost ready, Betty?”

  “Sure is. Go watch your show, and I’ll call you in a minute.”

  PopPop kisses my head and walks into his den.

  “I think you need to spend some time with him. Get to know him, let him get to know you,” Nana says.

  “Is it that easy?” I ask.

  Nana leans over the kitchen peninsula and grabs my hand in hers. I look up at her eyes. “It’s that easy. I know it’s scary, but if you never jump off that cliff, you’ll never learn how to fly, my love.” And that’s why Nana is the best: she always has the perfect things to say.

  Chapter Five

  “Hey,” I say gently as I walk into Ashton’s hospital room. I won’t lie. This place still makes me anxious. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to come here without echoes of the past swirling around me. I’m questioning what the hell I’m doing here. But the little boy lying on the bed in front of me is giving me the courage to be here. I know what it’s like, and if I can help him through this, then I will.

  “Hi, Miss Lanie,” Ashton says from his bed. I can already tell he’s nervous by the fact that he’s tapping his finger on the sheets.

  I give him a warm smile. “I have the week off, so I thought I’d come hang out with you. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

  “Really?” he asks.

  I nod. “Decided to chop the hair?” I ask, motioning to his buzz cut.

  He shrugs. “I heard the treatment could make my hair fall out. So Mrs. Collier let me shave it.”

  I look over to the corner where Mrs. Collier is sitting. She’s knitting what looks like a hat.

  “Hi,” I say to her.

  Looking up from her yarn, she smiles. “I’m glad you came by. I’m afraid that I’m not much fun. The boys have been begging me to get a tablet, but I just think those things are dangerous. And I don’t know how to play any of the new-fangled games they have here. Maybe you know how?” She motions to the shelf in the corner. There are a few games that I’m familiar with, and I nod. “We were just waiting on Dr. Brixton to come by with Dr. Evans. They are going to explain everything to us and get started,” she adds.

  As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door behind me. I turn to find Brix and another older gentleman. They are both wearing white doctor coats. I have to say, Brix looks even hotter in his doctor gear with a stethoscope wrapped around his neck. I swallow and force a smile.

  “Hey, good to see you here,” he says.

  I shrug. “I have a week off and thought . . . our friend, Ashton, could use someone to hang out with.”

  “This is Lane Moore,” Brix says to the other man. “Lane, this is Dr. John Evans. He’s heading up the trial that Ashton will be part of, and he’s also administering this part of the treatment.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say to him as we shake hands. He’s older and reminds me of Dr. Penningbrook who was my physician while I was here.

  “Brixton speaks highly of you. I hear you were a patient here yourself,” Dr. Evans says.

  I nod and force another smile. “I was. Dr. Penningbrook was my physician.”

  Dr. Evans’ face lights up. “Dr. Penningbrook is an amazing man. I still call him on occasion for a consultation. We were sad when he retired. But I’m sure he’s enjoying his time with all his grandkids now.” Dr. Evans looks past me to Ashton.

  “Hey, there, Ashton. It’s good to see you again. I’m Dr. Evans, in case you forgot. And I’m going to explain everything that we are going to be doing. No surprises, OK?”

  Ashton fidgets nervously but nods. Something about him makes me want to hug him, but I barely know the kid, so I refrain, choosing to stand by his bed as Dr. Evans starts to talk to him.

  Brixton

  Working with sick kids never gets easier. But I learned early on in my residency
that I much preferred kids to adults. Nevertheless, the looks on Ashton’s face as John explains things makes me want to pull the kid onto my lap and hug him. Beating cancer sucks, and it’s not easy at any age.

  I find myself keeping a close eye on Lanie as John and I speak. This can’t be easy for her. I wonder what memories this stirs up for her. Some kids are drawn toward a career in medicine after dealing with things like this, and others try to get as far away from it as possible. Lanie strikes me as the second type.

  I know she must be insanely brave to come back here just to be with Ashton, especially if my suspicions of her fears about the hospital are correct.

  After spending a good amount of time with Ashton, I excuse myself to go see my other patients. I promise Ashton that I’ll look back in on him later in the day.

  As I walk into the hallway, Lanie follows me.

  “You OK?” I ask her as she walks alongside me toward the nurses’ station.

  She nods. “It’s . . . tougher than I thought, being here, but I’ll be fine.”

  I glance at my watch. “I get off in about six hours. How about we grab dinner and discuss the next steps with Ashton?”

  On what I assume is instinct, she reaches for her phone and is about to open her calendar app when she freezes. I see her face tinge with pink as she places it back in her pocket.

  “Yeah. That works.”

  I place my hand on her arm, and she looks up at me.

  “I think you are going to be a huge comfort to Ashton while he’s here.”

  “Thanks,” she murmurs, meeting my gaze for just a fleeting moment. “Well, I should probably get back in there. The first few days are hard and so are the last few, well, at least for me that was the case.”

  “See, you already understand him more than most, or at least what he’s going through.”

  “I understand his current situation. I have a long way to go before I can understand him. He’s been through a lot more than I have.”

  “Yes, that’s true. He’s got fight in him, that’s for sure. And it will help him with all of this.”

  “I hope so,” she replies as she glances up at me once more. Those eyes. She has these eyes that are like the depths of the ocean. There’s so much in there, and I’m itching to dive in and learn all I can. I just hope she lets me.

  Lanie

  I make it home and get a text from Brix that he’ll meet me at the pub on Main Street for dinner. I have some time, so I decide to go get Ashton some games. I look in the cupboard under my television. Cards Against Humanity. Great game, completely not seven-year-old boy appropriate. I sigh and shut the door. Then it dawns on me. Kent has all our old games at his house.

  Me: Kent, I need games

  KJ: What?

  Me: Le Sigh. Games, our old board games.

  KJ: Oh, games

  Me: I can’t even. Anyhow, can I stop by tonight?

  KJ: Help yourself, it’s a guy’s night. Lyla and Tabby are seeing some chick flick at the theater

  Me: Great. See you later. Please tell Ward to keep his clothes on until I leave.

  KJ: (winking smiley face)

  Me: (Puking emoji)

  I head over to KJ’s house. Normally, I go in the side door that is the shared entrance of the guest suite above the garage and a mudroom entrance to the main house, but I hear a commotion in the backyard, so I walk around. I really should know better, but my curiosity gets the better of me.

  I turn the corner just in time to see Ward cannonball into the pool butt-ass-naked.

  “Holy shit!” I squeak as I cover my eyes.

  “Oh, come on Lanie. It’s not like you haven’t seen Ward naked before,” my brother calls out from the hot tub. I groan.

  “I’ll come back tomorrow,” I say as I try to walk out without looking. Only, I don’t make it far because I trip over a Rhododendron bush and start to fall. I don’t even realize that Amery is standing nearby until I’m suddenly swooped up by him. That’s when I realize he is also naked. I am surrounded by my brother’s hot baseball friends, and they are all naked and skinny-dipping. I probably should be happy about this, but I’m mortified.

  “Am, put me down! Seriously! Ewww!” I yell as I push at his chest.

  He chuckles as he sets me down.

  “Chill out, Lanie. We’re just having some fun,” KJ pipes up as he jumps in the pool. I avert my eyes.

  “Seriously, you all make tons of money. Could you not afford some swim trunks?”

  “Oh, what’s the fun of that?” Ward says as he starts doing the backstroke just to irk me. The man is seriously the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. And he loves to flaunt it to everyone. Too bad he’s been in a serious relationship with our friend Nate for well over a year.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m going to grab games and then leave.”

  “Come on, skinny-dip with us Lanie! Live a little!” Ward encourages.

  “Uh, no. No, thanks. Later, boys.”

  I speed off toward the house and make my way to the playroom. I find some games and decide to exit out the side door. No way am I skinny-dipping with those three. Truth be told, I’ve only been skinny-dipping once and it didn’t end well. Letting go usually ends in something bad happening. So I don’t do a lot of things. I remember once when I was about ten, my parents called me into their dining room and read to me a comment on my report card. It said, “Lanie is hopelessly perfect. She needs to work on not controlling every aspect of her day. She doesn’t have to be perfect. I hope she knows this.”

  Skinny-dipping is for carefree young people. That is not me.

  I don’t bother saying goodbye to the guys as I get in my car and head back to my house. My new mission is to focus on Ashton this week. Maybe I can take this time off and use it to help him. It would have been great to have an adult that understood what I was going through when I was his age.

  Chapter Six

  Brixton

  I sense her before she walks into the restaurant. I look up and get three seconds of uninterrupted ogling before she sees me and waves. I wave back and watch as she makes her way to the table.

  “Hey,” she says as she slides into the booth.

  “Hey.”

  “How was the rest of your day?” she asks as she takes a sip of the water that’s in front of her.

  “Busy. Yours?”

  She shrugs. “I just went to KJ’s house and got some games for Ashton and me to play.”

  I smile at her thoughtfulness. I’ve noticed over the past months that she is particularly caring and motherly. Which explains why her siblings call her ‘mother hen.’

  “I bet you’ll make his day tomorrow.”

  A waitress stops by our table, and Lanie doesn’t miss a beat.

  “I’ll have the veggie burger with sweet potato fries. And can I have iced tea?”

  “Wow, you know the menu, huh?” I ask with a laugh.

  Lanie shrugs. “I’m a local—what can I say?”

  “Lanie is a regular, along with the rest of her family. I’m Tina by the way, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight,” the young woman says with a smile.

  When Tabby told me about Banneker, I thought she was exaggerating. I mean, seriously, places like this do not exist, or so I thought. Then I came here. Growing up, I knew the name of this little town but never came here. It was merely another of hundreds of Maryland small towns. I was more interested in going into the city. But then I spent one afternoon on Main Street with Tabby and Kent and I had to admit the place was charming. It sucks you in with the friendly town people, the old small-town vibe, and the cute historic buildings.

  I’ve spent enough time here now to know that it doesn’t just appear charming, it actually is. There are plenty of quirky people, too, like Ms. Miller, who always scolds everyone younger than her, Mr. Benson, who plays checkers with Mr. Folley every afternoon at the coffee shop and curses up a storm when he loses, and Mrs. O’Henry, who has a giant pig statue outside her little boutique and dresses him up for ev
ery holiday. It only took a few visits before half the town regulars knew my name. I find myself spending more and time here instead of my little one-room apartment in D.C.

  “A bison burger with bacon and extra cheddar, and the tater tots. And I’ll have the amber on tap,” I say to the young woman. She nods and heads toward the bar.

  “So, how often is often?” I ask her.

  She laughs. Her voice is a sultry, slightly gravely one that makes me want to listen to her all day.

  “Probably too often. I seldom cook.”

  “That surprises me. I mean, your family is always having dinners together. You didn’t grow up cooking?”

  She shrugs and swirls the ice in her water glass. Tina brings us our drinks, and we both thank her.

  “Di and Kent were always the ones who loved cooking. Kylie enjoys decorating baked goods, and Clark and I were always the official taste testers. How about you? Do you cook?”

  “I do. Honestly, most of the time, I’m just too tired to cook, but I do enjoy it, especially with others. I’ve been fortunate to have been invited into homes all over the world, and my friends have been excellent teachers.”

  Lanie sets her glass down. Her eyes penetrate mine as she looks at me. “Tell me about your travels.”

  I take another sip of my beer. “Well, I don’t know what to say. I . . . I’ve seen some amazing things . . . and some horrible things. But I wouldn’t change it for the world. The past eight years have been quite an adventure. I’ve been to every continent except Antarctica. I’ve visited about fifty countries. I’ve eaten on the dirt floors of huts in the jungle. I’ve had tribal doctors teach me about local herbs. I’ve met amazing people that have overcome amazing obstacles just to survive another day.”

  Lanie puts her head in her hands and listens intently to me. “What’s your favorite place that you’ve been?”

  I get asked this on occasion. “Peru.”

  “Really?”

  I nod. “I spent some time in the Amazon and then went up to spend a few weeks in a small village in the Andes. They only spoke Quechua. It’s a local language and the main language of the Incan Empire. I learned a little about it while I was there. It was fascinating being around people who still live in their ancestors' homes. You’d walk into these stone houses, and there would be trout hanging from the ceiling, drying, and guinea pigs running around the corner of the dirt floor. I ate alpaca cooked over an open fire, and I learned all about weaving. I found them to be an incredibly warm and friendly community. It was just . . . peaceful there. Things were simple in a good way. I could have stayed there for longer, but I was asked to come help in New Caledonia, so I had to leave. I’ll go back someday, though. I still correspond with the local doctor in that area.”

 

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