by Susannah Nix
“Why did you want to be a doctor? Was it because of your dad?”
They were lying on their sides, face-to-face in her bed. Still naked, and far too comfortable to move out of their cocoon of warm blankets.
Tiny furrows sprouted across Caleb’s forehead. “I guess you could say that.”
“Did you want to be like him?” she asked, reaching out to smooth his furrows away with her finger.
“No, not at all.”
She dropped her hand to his arm, skimming her palm over the smooth curve of muscles. “What’s he like?”
Caleb’s face settled into a scowl. “Rigid.”
“I’m sensing you aren’t really close.”
“Keen perception, Mr. Holmes.”
“But you still wanted to be a doctor just like him?”
“It was the only way he’d pay for my college. Also, it seemed like the least I could do.”
“Why?”
He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “Because I didn’t go into the army like I was expected to.”
“So?”
“I was trying to make up for disappointing him.”
Penny propped herself up on her elbow so she could see his face. “He was disappointed you didn’t go into the army?”
“More like livid.”
“But it’s your life.”
“The Colonel doesn’t see it that way. He invested his time and money bringing me up. In exchange, it’s my duty to be the kind of son he wants me to be. A carbon copy of my old man.”
“You call your dad The Colonel?”
His mouth twisted into a smirk as he turned his face to hers. “Not to his face.”
“Now I’m picturing Colonel Sanders.” She reached out to ruffle his hair. His attractiveness magnified exponentially when it was tousled. So unfair.
His eyes closed as she ran her fingernails over his scalp, and he sighed with pleasure. “He is definitely nothing like Colonel Sanders. More like Colonel Kurtz from Apocalypse Now.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
He rolled toward her, pulling her closer as he buried his face in her chest. “Don’t. You’re too nice for that movie.”
“I’m not that nice,” she said, feeling defensive.
He looked up from her cleavage. “What’s wrong with being nice?”
“Nice people get treated like doormats.”
His mouth moved up to her neck, leaving a trail of lazy kisses. “Only by dicks. You can stand up for yourself and still be nice.”
“Like you stood up to your dad?”
He let go of her and rolled onto his back again. “My dad’s a dick. He treats everyone like a doormat, whether they’re nice or not.”
“I’m sorry you had to grow up that way.”
His expression turned stony as he stared at the ceiling. “Let’s talk about something else.”
It hurt to see him all twisted up in knots because of his father. She wanted to make it better. To know him, so she could help him. “Where does your mom stand on all this?”
“She doesn’t. She does whatever my dad expects her to do.” He was starting to sound annoyed, so she tried another tack.
“Was there something different you would have wanted to do? If your dad hadn’t pressured you to become a doctor.”
“I never thought about it.”
“You must have. Come on.” She reached out to pinch his nonexistent love handles. “What did little Caleb want to be when he grew up?”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” he snapped, loud enough to make her jerk her hand back.
“Sorry.” George had warned her it was a sore subject; she should have believed him.
Caleb rolled toward her and gathered her up in his arms. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry.” He kissed her forehead, cradling her against his chest. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
She blinked away tears. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I just don’t like talking about my dad.”
“I’m sorry.” She’d just thought if she could get him to talk about it, he might feel better. Clearly, that was a mistake.
“Stop apologizing when I’m the one who acted like a jerk.”
“You’re allowed to not want to talk about things. It’s not like we’re in a relationship. We don’t have to share everything with each other.”
She felt him go rigid. “Right,” he said, letting go of her.
“Did I say something wrong again?” He’d gone back to staring at the ceiling.
“No. You’re right. We’re not in a relationship.”
“We can talk if you want to. I’m happy to listen if—”
“I said I don’t want to talk. Can we just drop it?”
“Okay.”
He sat up and reached for his clothes. “I should probably go. It’s getting late.”
It was only seven o’clock.
“Are you mad?” she asked, watching him get dressed.
“No.”
“You seem mad. Although it’s a little hard to tell, because you’re about as expressive as a wooden post. I can never figure out what’s going on inside your head.”
“You don’t want inside my head.”
“I’m just trying to get to know you.”
The look he threw her way made her heart squeeze in her chest. “Why? We’ve got an expiration date, remember? You said you were only looking for a good time. Fun and easy. No strings.”
“I know.” Only she wasn’t having fun anymore—and clearly neither was he.
“I’m just giving you what you wanted.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you.” The way he said it sounded like maybe it wouldn’t be a such a tragedy if he didn’t see her again.
Penny gathered the sheets around her, wondering what had happened as the door slammed behind him.
Maybe she wasn’t so amazing at the no-strings thing, after all.
* * *
At half past eleven the next day, Penny pulled open the door of Antidote, unsure what kind of reception she’d get from Caleb. Assuming he was even working today. He might not be—
Caleb’s head swiveled at the sound of the bell, and he froze as his eyes met hers. His expression wasn’t exactly warm, but she wouldn’t call it cold either. More like guarded.
He was in the middle of filling one of the large grinders on the counter, and as they gazed at one another, a few errant coffee beans made a break for it and went skittering away. He swore under his breath and turned his attention back to his task.
Penny walked across the linoleum to the register, clenching her purse strap as she waited for him to finish. Elyse was leaning against the counter staring at her phone, and she glanced up at Caleb and then over at Penny, eyebrows lifted in silent inquiry. Caleb shook his head at her as he swept the stray coffee beans off the counter, and Elyse went back to whatever she was reading on her phone while he stowed the bag of beans under the counter and made his way to the register.
“Hi,” Penny said, lifting her eyes to his face. He looked even more chiseled and intimidatingly handsome than usual this morning, which did nothing to bolster her courage.
“Hi.” He rubbed his palms on his jeans and his mouth twisted into a grimace. “I’m sorry if I was a jerk last night.”
“You weren’t,” she told him, even though he sort of had been. She was still smarting from the unexpected flash of anger. “I’m sorry if I put my foot in my mouth.”
“You didn’t.”
He was lying just as surely as she was lying, the apology he’d offered no more sincere than hers. They stared at one another across the counter. Neither of them having any fun.
“So everything’s okay?” she asked, feeling like it was anything but.
“Sure,” he replied in his old monotone. “Everything’s great.”
“In that case, can I have a lavender latte?” She hated how small her voice sounded, like a scolded child asking for a special favor.
“Of
course.” He rang her up and went to go make it. When it was ready, he dropped it off without a word and retreated out of conversational range. A plain fern leaf adorned the foam. He hadn’t even bothered to sprinkle dried lavender over the top.
Their no-strings fling seemed to have crashed and burned.
Penny sat at the counter, watching Caleb take orders and make drinks as she sipped her latte. In between customers, he tried to teach Elyse how to make foam designs. They pulled shot after shot of espresso and Caleb stood over Elyse’s shoulder giving directions as she poured the steamed milk. He didn’t so much as glance Penny’s way, much less come over to talk. No more flirting for her. He’d put up his walls again.
Maybe it was for the best. They’d spent an awful lot of time together the last few days. If she wasn’t careful, she might start wanting more than the easy fun she’d promised him. And she wasn’t allowed to have more. He’d be gone soon, and the closer she let herself get to him, the harder it would be to give him up.
Might as well let go of him now.
She finished her latte and went home.
Chapter Seventeen
Since Caleb obviously wasn’t coming over that night, Penny decided to go visit George in the hospital. On the way, she stopped off at Antidote to get him a cherry Danish. Even though she knew Caleb probably wouldn’t be working this late, she still felt a stab of disappointment when he wasn’t there.
This was definitely getting out of hand. No strings meant she should be able to let him go at any time. Without pining.
“When did you start eating pastries?” Roxanne asked when Penny ordered George’s Danish and a nonfat latte for herself to go.
“It’s for George,” Penny told her. “I’m on my way to visit him at the hospital.”
“Awww, tell him we miss him.”
Penny took her Danish and latte and drove to the hospital. When she got to his room, George was alone and sitting up in bed, pushing a square of lime Jell-o around on his dinner tray. He wore a burgundy velour robe over his hospital gown, and seemed to have gotten a lot of his strength back.
“What’d you bring me?” he asked, eying the paper bag in her hand with interest.
She set it on the rolling table beside his dinner tray. “A cherry Danish.”
He perked up as he peeked into the bag. “From Antidote?”
“Of course.”
The balloons Penny had brought were holding up well. They sat on the ledge along the window beside a couple bouquets of flowers and a stack of DVDs.
“You know the way to an old man’s heart.” He took the Danish out of the bag and broke off a piece as he shot a longing look at the coffee in her hand. “No coffee for me?”
“I didn’t think you were allowed.”
“I’m not.” He waved her over. “Let me at least sniff it. All they’ve got is decaf in this joint. Tastes like bilge water.”
Penny took the lid off her coffee and held it under his nose. He’d shaved and combed his hair, and if it weren’t for the hospital setting and the wires still attached to his arm and chest, he’d almost look back to his old self. “Smells like heaven. Did Caleb make it?”
“No, he’s not working tonight.” Penny moved a stack of newspapers so she could sit in the chair beside the bed. “Roxanne made it and she said to tell you she misses you.”
“She’s a good kid. I’m sad I won’t get to meet her rugrat.”
“Of course you will. Aren’t you getting out of here soon? You’ll be back at Antidote before you know it.”
George shook his head. “They’re moving me up to San Jose. Mike and Jennifer don’t want me living down here alone anymore, and I guess they’ve got a point.”
“Oh,” Penny said, feeling bereft. George really was leaving too.
“They’re moving me into some kind of special apartment complex for ‘active seniors.’” He emphasized the last two words by making disdainful air quotes with his fingers. “It’s a fifty-five and up community. Wall-to-wall geezers like me.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Penny said, thinking of the nursing home where she volunteered, which was essentially a hospital with a dreary rec room in the middle of it.
He scowled. “I hate old people. All they do is complain.”
Penny smiled into her coffee cup. “They’re not so bad. You get used to the complaining.”
“I like being around young people. Keeps me from feeling old and decrepit.”
“You’d prefer a youth hostel, then? Or one of those Silicon Valley rental houses full of brogrammers mainlining Red Bull and Cap’n Crunch all hours of the night?”
He took another bite of Danish and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe. At least they won’t die on me left and right.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it. Guzzling all that 24-Hour Energy can’t be good for them.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t like change.”
“I don’t either,” Penny said, feeling a sharp stab of sympathy. “Won’t it be nice to be closer to your family though? You’ll get to see your grandson more often.”
“That part’s terrific. It’s everything else that’s the pits. Los Angeles has always been my home.”
“You’ll make new friends in San Jose, just like I did when I moved here from DC. Maybe even a few who aren’t geezers.”
“Sure.” He nodded, looking unconvinced. “Mike’s already talked to a real estate agent. We’re signing the papers to put my house on the market tomorrow.”
Her heart gave a little squeeze. “That’s fast.” She’d thought it would take longer to get everything arranged. That she’d have more time before he left.
He picked at the crust of his Danish. “I lived in that house for forty years. Barbara and I bought it when she got pregnant. It’s where we raised our family.”
“I’m sorry.” Penny swallowed the lump stuck in her throat. “That must be hard.”
They never covered that part of happily ever after in the fairy tales. How even if you found your perfect soul mate, one of you was likely to be left alone at the end. Maybe it would be better not to pair up in the first place. At least that way you’d be used to living alone.
George waved his hand like it didn’t matter. “It doesn’t do any good to hold on to things. Sometimes you just gotta let go and move on.” He wadded up the paper bag his Danish had come in and tossed it into the trash can. “Enough about me,” he said, narrowing his gaze at Penny. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” she said, shaking her head as she lifted her coffee to her lips.
“Bullpucky. You seemed down even before I started telling you my sob story. What gives?”
“I’m fine.” She tried to sound like she meant it but fell pathetically short of the mark.
George’s eyes sharpened. “How’s Caleb?” he asked, far too perceptive.
“Caleb’s fine.” She hesitated. “Did you know he’s going away to med school?”
“Yeah, he mentioned something about that.” Caleb seemed to tell George everything. She wondered how much he’d told George about her. “He’s leaving pretty soon, right?”
“On the twenty-fifth.” His new job started the day after Memorial Day, and he had to drive down there and get settled in first. Only twenty-two days left before he was gone.
George nodded, watching her closely. “How do you feel about that?”
“I’m happy for him, of course.” She remembered the way he’d taken charge when George had his heart attack. How calm and capable he’d been under pressure—and how caring. “He’ll make a great doctor.” That was what mattered, not the minor inconvenience it posed to her life.
“You’re not going to miss him?”
She already missed him, and he wasn’t even gone yet. But like George had said, there was no use holding on to things you couldn’t have. Better to make your peace with reality and move on.
“I’m going to miss both of you,” she said.
George grunte
d. “Gimme another whiff of that coffee.”
She leaned forward and passed it to him.
“Mmmm,” he sighed, inhaling deeply. “You think they have coffee this good in San Jose?”
“I’m sure they do.”
* * *
When Penny got home from the hospital, she paced around her apartment, feeling restless and glum as she thought about George and his wife of forty years and the house full of treasured memories he was giving up.
And here she was feeling sorry for herself over Caleb, a man she barely knew. She needed to get a grip. This was supposed to be a casual fling, which meant she shouldn’t be having all these feelings about him. The whole point was to walk away before things got real.
She pulled open the refrigerator and glared at the stacked containers of leftovers inside, arranged by date and waiting to be eaten. None of them held any appeal. She shut the fridge again and leaned her back against it, surveying her empty apartment with dissatisfaction.
It hurt to admit it, but maybe Caleb had been right. They never should have started anything in the first place. She didn’t seem to be cut out for casual flinging.
The smart, logical thing to do was keep her distance from him.
She didn’t want to be smart or logical though. She wanted to call him. Just the thought of hearing his voice made her heart flutter. She wanted to see him again so much it was a physical ache, like hunger pangs. She wanted to feel his arms around her. His skin under the pads of her fingers. His breath warm on her neck as his hands roamed over her body, rough and gentle by turns.
She pulled out her phone and stared at his picture in her contacts. It was one of the ones she’d taken of his backside when he was going through her fridge. Her thumb hovered over the call button as she tried to remind herself what George had said about moving on.
While she was debating with herself, she got a notification for a new text message—from Caleb.
Hey.
Before she’d pulled herself together enough to type a response, he added: Can I come over?
This was obviously a sign. Her fingers trembled as she typed out the word Yes. There was no possibility of saying no.
But was he coming over because he wanted to see her? Or to let her down gently? Had he had the same realization as her? That their fling was in danger of becoming something more, and needed to be put out of its misery?