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Running Home to You (The Running Series)

Page 20

by Sweeney, Suzanne


  “Evan, do you agree with Juliette’s description of last night’s events?” he asks.

  “Not exactly,” he responds. “Juliette says she thinks things went too far, and I think they didn’t go far enough.”

  “Ah, I see.” The doctor sits back in his chair and appraises us both. He doesn’t respond right away. “It would appear to me that at this time, your goals are not exactly in synch with one another.”

  Evan answers before I get a chance to. “Oh, we’re in synch, all right. We were in synch all night long. It wasn’t until closing that she threw the brakes on.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. It was too easy for both of us to fall back into hold habits last night,” I try to explain.

  “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. If you had come to me with this plan beforehand, I would have warned you about blurring the lines, Juliette. Without clearly set boundaries, you’re likely to give mixed signals to one another again.” Dr. Falkowski is making sense; he’s right. “You’re creating a situation where you both can become frustrated with the other and disappointed in the outcome. If you intend to reconcile, I suggest setting up ground rules you both can live with for now. If things go well, then you can negotiate to change the rules. Does that sound like something you both can agree to?”

  Evan and I look at one another, nodding our heads in agreement. Good! We have a starting point.

  “Dr. Falkowski, can I ask you a few more questions?” I ask.

  “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

  “Well, last time we spoke, you said something I think Evan needs to hear.”

  “We spoke about many things, Juliette. Could you be more specific?”

  “It had to do with Evan getting evaluated by someone, how did you put it? Out of his circle or something like that? And that if he were your patient, you’d start by running some medical tests. Isn’t that right?”

  “That’s correct.” Dr. Falkowski turns in his swivel chair to address Evan directly. “What Juliette is referring to is our discussion about getting an outside opinion about your medical and mental state. It’s important that everyone develop an inner circle of individuals to provide support and friendship throughout their lives. No man is an island, as they say. But when those same individuals are also entrusted to make business decisions that will affect their own professional livelihoods, their personal interests might supersede your own.”

  “Wait a minute. I completely trust Adam. He’s my closest friend and an amazing business manager,” Evan contended. I just knew he would react like this.

  “I’m sure he is, Evan. The fact is, he might think that his advice is what’s best for you. His intentions might be completely honorable. However, you can’t deny the fact that if what was best for you conflicted with what was best for his career as your manager, he might not see that as a viable option.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe,” Evan concedes. “So, if you were advising me, what would you tell me to do?” he questions.

  “Well, considering your profession, I would begin by ruling out a medical cause for your personality shifts. I’d order MRI’s to check for the lingering effects of any previous head trauma. I would also order a complete blood panel to rule out a chemical imbalance that might be caused by dietary intake or pharmaceutical consumption.”

  I watch closely as Evan considers the doctor’s proposal. Evan fought hard to avoid therapy that included revisiting the kidnapping. Dr. Falkowski is suggesting a scientific approach to finding a diagnosis. I’m hopeful that Evan might be onboard with this particular methodology.

  “The NFL takes brain trauma very seriously. They monitor the players closely. I’ve had a few MRI’s over the years, and nothing has ever showed up. Besides, there is no way I could just walk into some hospital or medical center to get an MRI or CT scan without word getting out. The team and the league would have no choice but get involved. That’s the last thing I need right now. Things are just starting to turn around for me.”

  “Fair enough. I can, however, get a nurse to come to my office immediately to draw blood. We can send it to the lab with a fictitious name in order to protect your privacy. Is that something you would consider?”

  “You could get a nurse here right now?” Evan asks suspiciously.

  “I could.” Dr. Falkowski walks to his desk, picks up the phone, and speaks to his receptionist. “Michelle, could you call my wife and ask her to come downstairs right away? Tell her I need her to draw some blood for a patient.” He hangs up his phone and responds to Evan’s concern. “My wife is a licensed RN. Occasionally, she assists me when needed.”

  Evan was not expecting to be put on the spot like that. I can tell by the way he’s shifting around in his seat and running his hand wildly through his hair. “How can a counselor order blood work?”

  “I started my career as a Doctor of Internal Medicine. My wife was one of the nurses in my private practice. After practicing medicine for ten years, I decided I needed a change and I got my certification in counseling. I sold my share of the practice and never looked back. I’ve maintained my medical license and from time to time, I find it to be useful in cases like this.”

  As he finishes sharing his professional history with us, there’s a knock at the door. Dr. Falkowski rises and walks to the door, steps out, and closes the door behind him so we cannot hear what is being discussed.

  I turn to Evan, curious to know if he will concede. “Evan, I think you should do it. What have you got to lose? No one has to know and maybe we’ll get some answers.”

  “Do you really think I should, Juliette?” he asks earnestly.

  “I do. Don’t you want to know what’s going on, Evan? Unless we figure this out, there won’t be a future for us. You know that, don’t you?” I caution.

  “I guess I really don’t have a choice then.” He starts to roll up his sleeve. “Bring her in.”

  Mrs. Falkowski comes in and takes several vials of blood, labels them each carefully, then slips out of the office. The entire procedure takes less than five minutes. She’s very professional and considerate. She’s obviously done this before. Dr. Falkowski must have told her about Evan’s need for privacy, because she didn’t seem the least bit fazed by our situation.

  “What now?” Evan inquires.

  Dr. Falkowski takes a seat and rejoins Evan and me. “Well, I’ll put a rush on the tests, but it could take up to a week to get the results. Meanwhile, I’d like to speak with you both about putting some healthy boundaries in place until we know more.”

  “What kind of boundaries are you talking about?” Evan demands. “We have plans,” he points out.

  “See, I agreed to go out on a date with Evan if he agreed to come here with me today, Dr. Falkowski,” I explain.

  “Did you say exactly when that date would take place, Juliette?” he probes.

  Evan’s eyes grow larger. He’s not going to like where this conversation goes. “No,” I despondently admit.

  “Based on what you’ve shared with me about your recent interactions, I’d say it’s easy to predict how a date night with the two of you might end. Would I be correct?”

  “A man can dream, can’t he?” Evan acknowledges. I simply nod my head because I know they’re right.

  “All I can do is offer you my opinion. It’s up to the two of you to make the decision, but I would not suggest initiating any intimate encounters at this time.” Dr. Falkowski looks first at Evan, then to me. The disappointment in both our faces must be apparent.

  Evan sits back in his chair, shaking his head. This is not going the way he planned.

  “If not now, then when?” I ask, trying to focus on the positive.

  “Let’s wait until we get the test results back so we know a little more about what we’re dealing with,” he offers.

  “Let me get this straight,” Evan interrupts. “Today is Friday. You’re telling me it could take a week to get the test results back and I cannot see my girlfriend until
then? Seriously?”

  “Tell you what, I can call in a few favors. The last thing I want is for this to cause you more stress, Evan. I might be able to get the results by,” he consults a calendar on his desk, “Tuesday. Wednesday the latest.”

  “Evan, you have the ESPYs on Tuesday. We can wait until Wednesday. That’s not too bad.” I turn to Dr. Falkowski for more guidance. “Besides, Auggie really needs me. He’s going to be almost completely helpless for another week, at least.”

  Dr. Falkowski gives Evan and me some pointers on intentional conversation and something called the speaker-listener technique. Before leaving, we make an appointment to come back in five days. It’s going to be the longest five days of my life.

  After Evan drops me off at home, I immediately change and go to work. Our Grand Opening was yesterday, and we got great reviews. Marcus called while Evan and I were in the car to tell us the good news. I’m expecting to get slammed for lunch and dinner. It’s Fourth of July weekend at the Shore, and a large portion of our seasonal profits will be made in this one weekend. It’s going to take the entire crew working their asses off in order to continue our success.

  Everyone at Rush has lots of questions for me about last night. They all want to know if Evan and I are back together again. I tell them the truth, which is that we are trying to work things out.

  Despite their volatile relationship, Derek remains one of Evan’s biggest champions. “You know, Jette, Mac has really been through a lot in the last few months. It can’t be easy for someone like him to feel like so many things are out of his control. His cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs ex-girlfriend, his recovery, he’s on a new team, and he’s starting a new business. You really shouldn’t be surprised that he snapped. Now that he let off a little steam and got it out of his system, I’ll bet he’s as good as new. He sure seems like his old self.”

  “Hear that crap, Jette? That’s the Bro Code you’re hearing,” Ryker goads as he enters the bar, carrying with him today’s citrus supply for drink garnishes.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.

  “Oh, that’s right, you have no brothers. Let me explain,” Ryker offers. “Rule number one of the Bro Code is to always have your bro’s back, no exceptions.” Ryker completely ignores Derek as he explains. “Rule number two, when your bro screws up, if he makes amends, all must be forgiven. And let’s not forget McGuire is the alpha male in this little pack, so his boys are expected to roll with the punches at all times, no pun intended.”

  Derek’s not having any of this. “You’re full of shit, dude. Go climb back under whatever slimy rock you crawled out of and stop trying to mess with her head.” Derek pours me a big glass of ice water and hands it to me. “Don’t listen to that jackass, Jette. Hell, don’t listen to me, either. Do what you have to do and we’ll take care of things here, like always.”

  We haven’t even opened yet, and I’m supposed to stay until closing. I get the feeling it’s going to be a very long day.

  Saturday morning rolls around, and I’m jostled awake by Maddy. She’s nudging me with her nose to get up and out of bed. I look at the clock, and it’s only six thirty in the morning. I get up to let her out, fearful that she needs to go to the bathroom, but she won’t go. “What’s the matter, girl?” I ask.

  Maddy goes running to the front door, scratches at the door, and whines. She wants to go running. I decide to throw caution to the wind, and go for a nice beach run. I quickly get ready and jot a note for Auggie. I sneak into his room and leave it on his bedside table. We were up late last night, so I can chance leaving him home alone for an hour. I know he’ll sleep until at least eight or nine o’clock. I climb into the car and head down to the beach. Maddy sits in the back seat with her tail wagging furiously. If I had a tail, I’m pretty sure mine would be wagging, too.

  I park a little south of Evan’s house. My plan is to jog past his house towards the south end of the boardwalk, which is my usual turn-around-spot. When I pull up and see all the trucks filled with fishing gear, it occurs to me that it’s not just Evan that I might run into – Ryker might be out this morning, too.

  I plug in my ear buds and bring up my playlist. I put it on shuffle, letting chance set the mood for today’s run. Sure enough, American Authors starts serenading me with “The Best Day of My Life,” and my spirits soar. The sun’s been up for a little while now, and the salty air blowing on my face feels wet and cool as it passes by. The beach is very quiet, the only sound is that of the seagulls peacefully chirping as they soar overhead, singing and searching for food. As I look back, the footprints I leave show my path. As if on cue, a tide creeps up the shore, wiping away the marks I left, and then disappears.

  As I approach Evan’s house, I see his lights are on. I pass by and Maddy pulls on her leash, trying to move me in the direction of our home. She’s probably hoping to find a cool bowl of water on the deck waiting for her.

  Not to be deterred, I keep my focus on the shifting sand as we jog down the beach. I try to stay close to the shoreline where the sand is hard and firm, but I’m careful not to allow the tide to wet my sneakers.

  I pass by many surf fishermen today; the shore is blanketed with them, probably due to the holiday weekend. I look carefully at each one, wondering if Ryker might be among them. When I reach his usual spot, I see that it’s empty and I’m glad for it. I don’t think I care to hear another lecture from him, not today.

  Maddy and I make it to our pit stop without interruption. I take the opportunity to stretch by doing a few lunges and Maddy goes sniffing around under the boardwalk. Last night’s fireworks brought lots of visitors to the boardwalk, and I can only imagine what kinds of debris she might find.

  After a few minutes of stretching and cool-down, we resume our jog. I remove the ear buds, and try to focus on the sounds around me – the water breaking on the surf, the seagulls chirping, the wind whistling past me. I refuse to think of this morning as a bust; I may not have seen Evan, but I got to rediscover my passion. My days have been filled with the needs of others, particularly Auggie. My nights have been occupied with preparations for the Grand Opening. I haven’t done anything just for me. I feel more relaxed and ready to face the day.

  My morning jog is nearly to an end. Evan’s beach house is in full view now, and that means that my car’s not far away. With each step I take, I become aware of music playing in the distance. The closer I get to Evan’s house, the louder the music becomes, until, finally, I can identify the sounds. Booming from Evan’s deck is Aerosmith’s love ballad, “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing”. There’s a tall figure standing on the deck, watching and waiting. At first, all I can make out is the silhouette, but even still, there is no doubt who it is. The muscular frame of a tall man with sharply chiseled features leaves little to the imagination, and plenty to admire.

  I stop just at the base of the steps that lead to Evan’s deck. When I release Maddy from her leash, she rushes up the stairs to greet Evan. She jumps up on him and licks him furiously. Maddy misses him. She’s not the only one. I stand and watch in joyful appreciation as Evan affectionately returns all of Maddy’s attention.

  Will I ever tire of looking at this man? He walks Maddy to a shady corner of the deck where he’s placed a bowl of cool water for her. Evan’s wearing nothing but a pair of long shorts that hang low enough to show the sexy v-cut of his waist. As he turns to walk away with our dog, I can’t help but admire the dramatic contrast between his trim waist and broad shoulders. Taking in the vision of his perfect form brings me more happiness than I’ve felt in a long time. How can he still affect me so profoundly?

  Evan walks down the steps leading to the beach where I’m standing. He stops at the last step and holds out his hand, “Join me for breakfast, Juliette?”

  I nod, place my hand in his, and follow him up the stairs. Just this simple contact with him has me walking on air. He leads me to the table, which he has set with bottles of cold water and a bowl of fruit, along with a few granola bars
. He pulls out a chair for me and offers, “Can I get you anything else?”

  The fresh fruit looks so good, I cannot resist grabbing a banana to snack on. “No, this is great.” I crack open one of the bottles of water and take a refreshing sip. “I can’t stay long. Auggie’s going to be getting up soon.”

  “I know,” Evan affirms. Maddy curls herself into a ball at Evan’s feet. He bends down to pet her, and I’m reminded of our once happy life here. In moments like this, I feel certain we can find our way back together again.

  Just as I’m about to say something, the music changes to Simple Minds, “Don’t You Forget About Me”. This is not one of the usual songs from Evan’s playlist. If he’s trying to get me to loosen up a bit, it’s working.

  Throwing caution to the wind, I get up and walk straight over to Evan. He turns his chair, and pats his lap, inviting me in for some much needed closeness. He pulls me back against his bare chest. His arms wrap around me as I settle against him. I run my hands across his biceps and squeeze. I didn’t realize how much I would miss the feel of his powerful arms. He must have been working out in his gym, because he’s still slick with sweat. He nuzzles my hair and groans, takes a deep breath, and utters, “Good morning, Running Girl.” Just being so close to him and hearing the sound of his voice makes my body clench.

  “Good morning, Chief,” I whisper in his ear. His smell is intoxicating, and it’s all I can do to keep my hormones in check. “You’re full of surprises. How did you know I’d be here?” I ask.

  “I didn’t. I was standing at the kitchen window when you ran by half an hour ago. I took a gamble that you’d pass by again around this time.” Evan is tracing small circles on the flesh of my tanned legs. “You’re the one that’s full of surprises, Juliette. I was positive I wasn’t going to see you again until Wednesday. What would the good doctor say if he knew you were creeping around my house like this?”

 

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