Between You and Me

by Susan Wiggs

  “I decided to stay until it’s time to take Jonah home,” he told Reese. “Just couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day. There are things to figure out, though. I can get myself up to Grantham Farm every day to put in some hours there. It’s a lot closer to the city than Middle Grove.”

  “Welcome to the modern world,” she said, “where you get to be pulled in several different directions, and you have to figure out how to do about a dozen things simultaneously and well.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It’s awesome.”

  She tossed her empty cup into a painted recycling bin. Even such a small gesture accentuated the differences in their worlds. In Middle Grove, every discarded item had to be dealt with, either by reusing it, putting it in the compost rack, or sending it to the burn pile.

  When they got to the hospital, Reese went off to work somewhere and Caleb headed straight up to the peds ward. He watched Jonah through the therapy session to condition and tone his muscles and to learn new ways to move without his arm. It was both heartbreaking and inspiring to see the boy’s concentration and determination as he did the exercises. “He’s doing so well,” said the physical therapist, giving him a high five. “Jonah, you’re my hardest-working patient.”

  “Did I work hard enough to earn a round of Birdbrain?” That was his current favorite video game.

  “Sure, you did. See you later, kid.”

  “Come on, Uncle Caleb, I’ll show you how it’s done.” Jonah scampered over to the patient lounge.

  As the boy happily introduced him to Birdbrain, Caleb reflected on worldly things and wondered what the future held for Jonah. What would life be like for this boy after such a devastating injury? In his darkest moments, Caleb caught himself wondering if Jonah carried the same troubled soul as Caleb’s mother, and his brother, John. What if the boy tried to harm himself? How could Caleb keep him safe?

  Maybe Jonah would cling fiercely to Old Order traditions the way John had done after the suicide attempt. Or would he feel more like Caleb, buffeted between two worlds? Be ye not conformed to this world.

  “What’re you thinking?” Jonah asked, startling him out of his troubled thoughts.

  “Thinking about you, little man,” he said, forcing a smile.

  “That’s funny, so was I.” Reese walked into the lounge area, all curly hair and smiles, and that way of looking at Caleb as if he were the only person on the planet. She was a fresh-plucked daisy, even in her doctor clothes, with a pin on her collar that read i work the “always” shift.

  Jonah smiled broadly, and Caleb’s heart lifted. “Hello, Reese.”

  “I’m on a break,” she said. “I heard a rumor about you, young man. I heard you’re everyone’s favorite on the floor.”

  “For real?”

  “For real.”

  “That’s nice.” Then his smile disappeared. “What if it’s because folks feel sorry for me on account of my arm?”

  “Trust me, no one feels sorry for a boy who can beat Dr. Parmenter at chess and parcheesi.”

  The smile returned. “Yeah, okay.”

  A few minutes later, an aide came to get him. “Time for your group counseling,” she said.

  “What’s that?” asked Caleb.

  “We sit around in a group and talk about our feelings,” said Jonah. “It’s pretty fun.”

  Caleb couldn’t stifle a laugh. “Since when do you know how to talk about your feelings, Jonah Stoltz?”

  The boy grinned. “See? Making progress.” He gave Caleb a brief hug, then made a fist and bumped it against Reese’s clenched hand. “Stay woke,” he said to her.

  “Will do,” she said.

  After Jonah had gone, Caleb turned to her. “A fist bump? Really?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a thing.”

  “‘Stay woke’?”

  “An expression. Jonah’s really quick to pick things up.”

  He nodded, then glanced at the clock. “There’s a bus up to Half Moon Junction—that’s the closest station to Grantham Farm. I’ve got to go to work.”

  “I should get back to work too.” She paused, looking up at him. “Are you busy this evening?”

  His heart skipped a beat. “What did you have in mind?”

  “It’s not a date,” Reese said to her mother. Joanna Powell had stopped by unannounced, a whirlwind of energy and motivation. Reese was in the middle of getting ready for her evening with Caleb. “It’s a . . . an outing,” she said.

  Her mother swept around the apartment, focusing on dog-eared test manuals, unopened mail, and stacks of paperwork related to the residency match. “I’m surprised you have time for an outing, let alone a date. Now, who is this person?”

  “Just someone I met at the hospital.” She bit her lip, reluctant to go into detail. She couldn’t explain her attraction to Caleb to herself, let alone her mother. He was like a magnet to her. She often caught herself trying to run into him, seeking that ineffable thrill of warmth that coursed through her each time she saw him. While dozing in the on-call room, she dreamed of him, and awakened with visions of showing him around the city. His sense of wonder at ordinary things was contagious, awakening her to so much she took for granted. She tried to tell herself the feelings would pass once the novelty wore off. Instead, the yearning intensified. She wanted to spend more time with him. She liked the way she felt in his presence—calm and centered, a welcome break from her usual state of anxiety.

  “So he’s . . . what? A resident? An attending?” her mother persisted.

  Her mom couldn’t get her head around the idea that Reese might be friends with a guy who wasn’t in the same field.

  “None of the above. He’s the uncle of a patient. The boy’s arm was amputated, and Caleb is his guardian. I was in the ER when the kid came in, and Caleb was . . . well, during the surgery, we just . . . connected.”

  “I see.” Her mother’s mouth tightened. “You would have learned more by observing the surgery instead of hanging around with the uncle. I worry about you getting distracted.”

  Reese refused to take the bait. “Sometimes I think I need a distraction.”

  Her mother’s gaze skimmed over her. “You’re wearing that?”

  Reese smoothed her hands down the form-fitting dress she’d picked out, a bright red print with a flaring skirt. “Apparently so.”

  “Then he’s going to be distracted.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Well, I suppose you can use a little fun.” Joanna set down a folder of information. “Take a look at this program at Georgetown. I think you should add it to your list of options.”

  “I will, Mom. Thanks.”

  Her mother checked her phone. “I have to go. Your father has a lecture tonight. Remember, I told you about it.”

  “Okay, cool.” Reese’s stress level rose a notch. The truth was, she took enormous pride in her parents’ accomplishments, and she knew they loved it when she attended their events.

  “So where are you and this mystery man going?”

  Reese swiped a lipstick across her mouth and tucked it into her bag. “Salsa dancing.”

  Raised eyebrow. “Indeed. Well, have fun, then.”

  Reese let out a sigh as her mother left. She told herself not to feel guilty for skipping her father’s lecture. He was brilliant and famous. He didn’t need her in his audience.

  A few minutes later, Caleb appeared at the door. At the sight of him, worries about her parents dissolved and a different sort of flutter rose in her chest. “Hey,” she said, admiring his well-fitting trousers and fresh white shirt, his blond hair slightly damp from the shower. “You look great.”

  He focused on her, and his gaze warmed. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Thanks. I hope you don’t think I’m crazy for dragging you out to salsa night.”

  “I hope you don’t think I’m crazy for accepting. It’s only fair to warn you that I’ve never danced a step in my life.”

  “Don’t worry.
You’ll be in good company. It’s amateur night at the salsa club. We’re going to meet up with Leroy and his new date, Cheryl, and a few others from the hospital.” A social life. What a concept. Caleb motivated her to actually get outside and do something besides study, work, and plan for the Match.

  They walked a few blocks to an area full of outdoor cafés, buzzy restaurants, and clubs. It was a golden late-summer evening, and crowds spilled out onto the pedestrian-only street to enjoy the last of the day’s warmth. Reese and Caleb met up with Leroy and the others gathered around a bar table outside the club.

  Reese introduced Caleb all around, watching the reactions of Cheryl; Misty, a lab tech; and Misty’s date, a guy from Australia named Stuart. Predictably, Misty and Cheryl regarded Caleb with clear appreciation. “Welcome to Friday night,” said Misty. “We work hard. Time to play hard. Have a beer, you two.” She poured them each a glass.

  The talk drifted to hospital gossip and patient cases. Reese glanced at Caleb, who listened in polite silence. He was already an outsider, and shop talk only sharpened the contrast.

  “Let’s not talk about work,” she suggested. “We spend too much time working, anyway.”

  “Good point. I know a game we can play,” Cheryl said, picking up a container of small cards from the table. “It’s called Never Have I Ever.”

  Reese took a big gulp of beer. “Not my favorite. I always embarrass myself.”

  “Then we should surely play,” Caleb said, eyeing her.

  “Isn’t there a trivia game or something?”

  Caleb ignored her and turned to Cheryl. “How does it work?”

  “Simple,” she said. “You hold up your hand with five fingers raised, and if the statement doesn’t apply to you, then you put one finger down. You’re out when you run out of fingers.”

  “Isn’t there usually a drinking component to this game?” asked Stuart.

  “Might be,” said Reese. “But it’s not mandatory.”

  Leroy drew the top card. “Never have I ever . . . dyed my hair with a color not found in nature.”

  Each of the women lowered a finger. Reese had streaked her hair with neon pink, more than once, mainly to annoy her parents. None of the guys had. Caleb looked mystified.

  “Next card,” said Leroy. “Never have I ever . . . lied to get out of trouble.”

  Everyone except Caleb had to put down a finger. “All guilty,” said Reese. She turned to Caleb. “I can’t imagine you never told a fib to avoid trouble.”

  He grinned. “I didn’t even know lying was an option.”

  Actually, she wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t a liar. One of the first things she’d noticed about him was his honesty.

  “Next one,” Leroy said. “Never have I ever ridden a horse.”

  Caleb lowered a finger. Of course he’d ridden a horse. So had everyone else, except Reese.

  “I had a deprived childhood,” she said.

  “Right,” Leroy teased. “You were so deprived.”

  “Never have I ever used makeup to cover a hickey” was the next challenge.

  Reese blushed, but gamely lowered a finger—and she was the only one. “Seriously?” she asked, looking around the table. “Come on.”

  “What’s a hickey?” Caleb asked.

  “You should show him,” Misty said.

  “Next,” Reese said, turning over a card. “Never have I ever . . . multitasked while having sex.”

  “Well, that’s just dumb,” said Cheryl. “Let’s skip that one. If you multitask while you’re having sex, you’re doing something wrong.”

  “No, he’s doing something wrong,” said Reese. “Moving right along. Never have I ever . . . had sex in a moving vehicle.” Great. She was going to have to cop to that one as well. Junior year abroad, a microbus trip with a group of students down the Costa Brava in Spain. She barely remembered the guy, but the wine and the sex . . .

  “Does a boat count?” asked Stuart.

  All of them except Caleb had to lower a finger. Reese was dying to know about his romantic and sexual past. Maybe one of these days, she would get close enough to ask.

  “Never have I ever . . . woken up to someone whose name I didn’t know,” Leroy read from the next card.

  Oh boy. Reese had to lower her finger in shame, knocking herself out of play. “It was just the one time, okay? New Year’s Eve when I was in college.” She could barely look at Caleb. “I’m going to start calling this the don’t-judge-me game.”

  The others dropped out one by one, on much less provocative questions about eating a bacon doughnut or pretending to be a foreigner. In the end, Caleb prevailed, admitting only to riding a horse, building something out of wood, and shooting a gun.

  “Hey, the dancing started,” Cheryl said. “Let’s go inside.”

  Reese breathed a sigh of relief. She wondered what he thought of her now that she’d had to admit to some of the highlights of her college days.

  The salsa club was dark and crowded, pulsing with music and excitement. Reese glanced at Caleb. He surveyed the glittering lights and dance floor with a bemused expression.

  “Let’s grab a table and watch for a bit,” she said. “Then we’ll give it a go.”

  “Sounds good, Reese.”

  They found a spot near the busy dance floor and ordered the house special—white sangria with bits of fresh fruit. Caleb tasted his. “I like it,” he remarked and drained his glass in a few gulps.

  “Whoa there, cowboy,” she said. “This stuff packs a punch.”

  “I’m going to need a punch to get me out on the dance floor.”

  She laughed. “Point taken. I’m not very good, but the basic steps are pretty simple.”

  As they watched, his knee went up and down in time with the music. There was a lead couple on a raised platform, demonstrating the number. Misty and Stuart, then Leroy and Cheryl joined in, with mixed results but a lot of laughter. After a second glass of sangria, Caleb held out his hand, palm up. “Shall we dance?”

  She put her hand in his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  His grip was sturdy and strong, as she’d expected. What she hadn’t expected was the thrill that coursed through her as he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out to the dance floor.

  “There are only three simple steps and eight counts,” said Reese. “Watch the couple onstage. The rest is all showmanship.”

  “Do you know the three steps?”

  She demonstrated—one, two, three, pause. Five, six, seven, pause. He watched her legs and feet with an intensity that felt like a caress, bringing a flush to her cheeks. “There,” she said, pretending not to notice the way he was looking at her. “Watch again, and then give it a try.”

  He stood facing her, and she felt a little thrill as he moved his hand to her upper back, imitating the closed hold demonstrated by the lead couple. “How’s this?”

  She tingled everywhere. “Uh, yes. That works just fine. Let’s practice the steps.”

  After a few false starts, he picked up the simple pattern. “Where did you learn this dancing?” he asked her.

  “I took ballroom dancing for beginners for a PE credit one year.”

  “A PE credit.”

  “Physical education. For a college credit.”

  He offered a half grin. “Physical education. Not a concept we have in our community.” Yet he continued practicing the steps, matching the rhythm with surprising panache.

  “Hey, you’re good for a first-timer. You picked up the moves in no time.”

  “I go to a lot of horse shows.”

  “Either that’s a non sequitur, or I’m insulted.”

  “Don’t be. My horses win prizes.”

  “Now I am for sure—” The breath left her as he caught the rhythm of the music and moved with a grace she hadn’t expected. By the middle of the number, she noticed several nearby patrons watching them. In the plain white shirt and dark trousers, he cut a striking figure. There was just so much of him
—the height, the shoulders, the hair, and his complete unselfconscious delight in dancing.

  “For the love of God,” Misty said in her ear during a break in the action, “if you don’t take him home right this minute and shag him, I might have to do it myself.”

  “It’s . . . We’re not like that,” Reese protested, but not loudly enough for Misty to hear. Because the truth was, she did want him. This pure attraction was something very new to her. With other guys she’d dated, there was always an element of speculation—Are we compatible? Do our schedules mesh? Do we work in the same field, have similar goals?

  When it came to Caleb, none of that mattered. He was a mysterious and powerful enchantment, and she had no idea what to do about that except to hope it would eventually go away, like a virus.

  She pondered this as they made their way home. Starting something was a bad idea, yet it also felt like the best idea she’d had in a long time. While they walked side by side, their hands brushed, more than once, and she found the casual touch ridiculously provocative.

  Leroy and his date were a bit tipsy, laughing and flirting with their arms around each other. At the front door, he took Caleb aside and murmured something, then went upstairs with Cheryl.

  “He’s going to get lucky,” Caleb said. “And yes, I know what that means. It also means I’ll need to sleep on your sofa. If that’s all right.”

  Her skin tingled all over. “And if it’s not?”

  He grinned. “Oh, but it is. I know you, Reese. I know that look.”

  She preceded him up the stairs. “You do not know me.” As she unlocked the door and they went inside, she turned to gaze up at him. “But okay. You can have the sofa. I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”

  11

  As the days of Jonah’s recovery passed, Reese and Caleb fell into a pattern. Each morning, he took an early bus up to Grantham Farm, where he worked with the horses. Late in the day, he returned to visit with Jonah through supper and up until bedtime. If Reese’s schedule lined up with that, they would do something together. She told herself she spent so much time with him because he was so alone in the city, trying to balance his responsibilities to Jonah, to his work, and to the distant farm in Middle Grove. But kindness wasn’t the only thing that drove her.