Facial Recognition

by Jennifer Peel

  “It’s g . . . good of you . . . you . . . to come,” Tom said. “Please have a s . . . s . . . seat.”

  Brooks took the couch farthest from us and sat so stiffly he looked like a wax figure.

  I sat on the edge of Tom’s bed, keeping a hold of his hand.

  Neither man seemed to know what to say, so it was up to me. “Carly texted me and wanted me to give you both her love. She said she’ll call when she lands in Burbank.”

  Both men nodded. The silence stretched.

  I guessed I was going to need to up my game. “Oh, and I’m thinking about moving to Vegas with this male stripper I met last night.”

  Brooks actually jumped up, and Tom about flipped his breakfast tray over. I had to grab it before his food went flying.

  “You will do no such thing, young lady.” Tom sounded more authoritative than my daddy ever had, and his words flowed freely all on their own.

  “But he’s really fine, and he says he loves me.” I busted out laughing.

  Tom swatted me. “G . . . Gracie g . . . girl, my heart can’t take that.”

  I kissed his head. “I’m sorry. I suppose y’all better think of something to talk about, then.”

  Brooks lowered himself back onto the couch, shaking his head at me.

  Both men still seemed at a loss about what to say.

  I pulled out my phone and googled great conversation starters while the men stared at each other. “All right, y’all, I’m going to help you out. Fifty-seven killer conversation starters, number one—”

  Tom pushed my phone down. “D . . . Darlin’, you’ve made your point.” Tom let out a trepid sigh. “H . . . How have you b . . . been, son?”

  “Good one.” I nudged Tom playfully, making both men smile.

  “I just made junior partner,” Brooks replied.

  Tom beamed. “That’s w . . . wonderful. E . . . Equity or nonequity st . . . status?”

  “Nonequity, but once I’m promoted to senior partner, I’ll receive equity status.”

  “Ex . . . Excellent. I’m p . . . proud of you, son.”

  Brooks bristled and cleared his throat. “I didn’t do it for you.”

  I gave Brooks the evil eye, but he didn’t flinch.

  Tom patted my arm, knowing I was about to get fired up. “I never ex . . . expected you to. That doesn’t ch . . . change h . . . how proud I am of you.”

  Brooks pressed his lips together and simmered down but then threw out, “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “H . . . How c . . . can I change that?” Tom begged to know.

  Brooks ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

  Silence creeped in again.

  I clapped my hands together. “You know what? I think this was a good start. I’m proud of both of you.”

  Brooks and Tom gave me crooked grins.

  “Now that we’re done with the awkward first session, I have some important items to discuss with Tom about the reunion.” I directed my attention to Brooks. “And since I know you find reunions distasteful, you can be dismissed.”

  Brooks’s eyes widened.

  “You’re not going to the reunion?” Tom asked Brooks. “G . . . Gracie’s put s . . . s . . . so much time and effort into it.”

  Brooks shifted in his seat.

  “Don’t pressure him, Tom.” I patted Tom’s hand. “He and Morgan believe only people who peaked in high school attend them.”

  “Non . . . Nonsense,” Tom spouted. “Our G . . . Gracie girl is reaching new heights all the time.”

  Brooks let out a heavy breath. “I’m sure she is. That said, some of us don’t feel the need to catch up with people we haven’t seen in twenty years and probably will never see again. And, I’ll be at a conference that weekend anyway.”

  “Perfect. More fun for the rest of us, then.” Internally though, I was disappointed there was no chance of him coming. I knew it was a long shot. Yet, somewhere deep down, a tiny shred of hope burned that the old Brooks would appear and see we were meant to be. Then he would sweep me off my feet and give me the night we should have had twenty years ago. I shook off those thoughts and turned my attention back to Tom, expecting Brooks would leave, but he stayed put.

  “D . . . did you f . . . find a date yet, darlin’?” Tom asked.

  “No. I’m thinking of going alone. Or maybe you and Daddy can escort me.” I winked, trying not to feel like a loser in front of Brooks.

  Tom chuckled. “It would be a p . . . pleasure, but you d . . . don’t give up yet. Surely there is a man sm . . . smart enough to make you his g . . . girl.”

  I shrugged and tapped on my phone to pull up the table settings the caterer had sent me to choose from. “I need your opinion. The girls,” meaning Colette and Lorelai, “and I can’t decide if we should go with the more elegant theme or something more on the fun side, like this one.” I clicked on the picture showing the centerpiece made from yearbooks that had photo booth picture strips accented with flowers and the year we graduated. “I’m leaning toward this one. I think it shows a personal touch. What do you think?”

  Tom’s brow crinkled. He was giving it some serious thought. “Well, d . . . darlin’, I say whatever you choose, it’s going to be p . . . perfect.”

  I kissed his head. “You’re no help, but thank you.”

  He chuckled. When he laughed, it made it obvious that he was still sick. There was an odd rattle to it, and it was subdued.

  I handed him his water. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for the day. How about we read from the Bible and then Twilight? She’s about to meet his parents.”

  Brooks stood. “I should probably get going.”

  That was probably for the best, I thought. “See you later.”

  Tom set his water down and gave his son a timid smile. “It was g . . . good to—”

  “Knock, knock, knock, the doctor’s here,” a familiar voice interrupted us. Julian swaggered in wearing scrubs and carrying a vase full of cheerful daisies. How odd.

  Brooks must have thought so too since he grimaced at Julian. “What are you doing here?” He dispensed with any pleasantries.

  “Wishing Tom well, of course, and looking for you, actually. Morgan said you would probably be here.” Julian didn’t seem at all put off by Brooks’s cold greeting.

  Brooks’s pursed lips said he wasn’t buying it.

  Julian paid him no attention and turned toward Tom and me. Julian’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Gracie, you’re here too. What a surprise. It’s so good to see you again.”

  “It’s nice to see you too,” I sort of lied, but what else could I say?

  Julian set the flowers on the table under the TV. “Tom, you’re looking good after your brush with death. I’m happy to see you pulled through.”

  Tom, like Brooks, looked confused as to why Julian was there. Tom squeezed my hand. “Thanks be to G . . . Gracie. I’m a l . . . lucky man.”

  Julian looked me over. “Yes, you are.”

  Brooks cleared his throat. “Did you need to talk to me?”

  Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets. “I just scored some Rangers tickets for this evening. Home plate, brother. You in?”

  Brooks stretched his neck from side to side. I could tell he was torn.

  “You should go,” I encouraged him. “Those are great seats, and they’re playing the Astros again.”

  Julian grinned at me. “You a baseball fan?”

  “A big one.”

  Brooks flashed me smile. He knew he was to blame for that.

  Julian looked between Brooks and me with interest. “I know my sister doesn’t understand the importance of sports, but she’ll get over it. I mean, you might be in the doghouse for a long time, but it will be worth it,” Julian taunted him.

  Tom and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. I knew we were thinking the same thing. Morgan was a controlling wench, and Brooks was an idiot.

  Brooks blew out a deep breath. “I ha
ve court tomorrow, so I need to prepare. I’m going to pass.”

  Tom and I gave a collective sigh.

  “If you’re sure.” Julian shoved the tickets back into his pocket before he set his sights on me. “Gracie, I believe I owe you dinner. How would you like to eat it at the ballpark tonight? Say, behind home plate?”

  I bit my lip. “Um.”

  Brooks shot Julian a look of pure loathing.

  Tom’s eyes darted between Brooks, Julian, and me. A big ol’ grin erupted on his unshaven salt-and-pepper face. “I think that s . . . sounds like a g . . . great idea. You should g . . . go, darlin’.”

  “Yes, darlin’, you should come with me,” Julian echoed.

  I did love baseball. And with Julian I would have no long-term expectations because I already knew he loved himself more than anyone else and had been married way too many times for my comfort. So this would just be for fun, I reasoned. As an added plus, Brooks looked oh so agitated by it. His face was redder than his polo shirt, and he kept tugging on his collar. It was probably evil of me, but I found myself wanting to vex Brooks. “I would love to eat dinner behind home plate. Just so you know, I can eat a lot.”

  “That’s my kind of woman. Have Brooks text me your number. I’ll call you later to make plans.”

  “Okay.”

  “See y’all later.” Julian waved. “I’m off to deliver a baby.”

  As soon as Julian closed the door, Brooks started in on me. “You’re not seriously considering going out with him, are you?”

  “You just heard me tell him yes. And it’s not my style to agree to go on a date and then back out.”

  “Ouch,” Tom whispered.

  Yeah, I knew what a kill shot that was, and I should really just get over it, but I couldn’t help myself.

  Brooks growled, like actually growled. “We will get into the past later, but going out with him isn’t a good idea.”

  “It’s only a baseball game. One you should have gone to.”

  He blew a breath out of his nose like a raging bull. “You don’t understand my life.”

  “You’re right,” I whispered. I didn’t understand his kowtowing to Morgan and how hardened he had become.

  “Just be careful around him.” He stormed off.

  “Wow. What was that all about?” I commented after the door slammed.

  Tom chuckled. “You don’t know?”

  “What’s so funny?”

  Tom rested his dry, aged hand on my cheek. “G . . . Gracie girl, I h . . . have a f . . . feeling your life is about to get in . . . interesting.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m th . . . thinking you’re g . . . going to have some options on who to t . . . take to the reunion.”

  “Julian?”

  “And Brooks.” He wagged his bushy brows.

  “I think the medication they have you on has made you loopy.”

  “I d . . . don’t think so, darlin’. B . . . Buckle up. I think you’re in for a wild ride.”

  I was thinking more like he was delusional.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, enjoying the light breeze and evening sun through my SPF 150. “It’s perfect baseball weather.”

  “It’s almost a shame they’ll be in a climate-controlled stadium next year,” Julian commented.

  I flipped down my shades and turned toward him. “Almost, except when it’s a hundred degrees and one hundred percent humidity.”

  “True,” he chuckled.

  I liked his laugh—it was masculine with a hint of mischief. And he laughed often, if you could judge that from the car ride over. Apparently, I was amusing. Or at least he thought my obsession with Rick Springfield was funny. I may or may not have given him a concert on the way over. I appreciated that he let me put on my playlist in his fancy car. Doctors must make a lot more money than I do. His car had more buttons than a fabric store.

  “Are you hungry yet?”

  “I’m trying to decide between the street tacos or bacon-wrapped wings. Decisions, decisions.”

  “How about I get the wings and you get the street tacos and we’ll share?” he suggested.

  “Ooh, I like the way you think.”

  He threw his baseball cap on backward. “I like you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You don’t like me?”

  “It’s still early in the night,” I teased. Though it was true. I was holding out judgment based on what I knew about him and, admittedly, Brooks’s warning. Brooks’s multiple warnings. He had texted me twice reminding me that Julian had been divorced three times and how short-lived his marriages were. All less than two years. Definitely not a good track record. But like I said, I was just here for the fun. Julian and I weren’t going to be a thing. I had texted Brooks back that I appreciated the warnings, but I didn’t need him to play big brother. He’d texted back that he never wanted to be my brother, only my friend. Believe me, I knew. Tom was totally off his rocker thinking Brooks was going to want to take me to the reunion. He wasn’t even going to be in town. And hello, he was dating Morgan, Julian’s sister. Which was weird, come to think of it.

  Julian leaned in closer. I noticed some gray in his stubble. It was kind of sexy, and so was he, if I was being honest. His minty breath wafted my way. “I’ll see what I can do to tip the scales in my favor tonight.”

  “Food is always a good way to start.”

  “Food it is. I’ll be right back.”

  “I can pay for my half.” I thought I should offer since this wasn’t a date, and after my last date, I wanted to find out if he thought we should be going dutch.

  “Tonight’s all on me.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Save my seat.” He jumped up.

  While he was gone, I soaked in the sun and savored the smell of the grass. I may have also checked out the butts of some of the players warming up on the field. Baseball pants were a special kind of pants. I got my phone out and took some pictures of the scenery, butts included, and texted them to Lorelai and Colette. Along with the picture I had snapped of Julian, unbeknownst to him. I had filled my bests friends in when I was getting ready for the game—which meant I threw on my pink Texas Rangers T-shirt and pulled my hair up in a messy bun—and they were curious about Julian and this turn of events.

  I immediately got responses from them.

  Dang, that Julian is yummy! And he’s a doctor? He might not be the marrying type, but please make out with him, Colette responded.

  Darlin’, that is one fine man. Don’t let your eyes fool your heart, Lorelai wisely counseled. However, I agree with Colette. Lay a big one on him.

  I giggled at my friends, wondering what it would be like to kiss Julian. I typically didn’t make out with men unless I saw some potential for a relationship. Not to say I hadn’t kissed someone in the moment. With Julian, I knew there was no potential; but friends did kiss, like I’d told Brooks. And there I went thinking about Brooks and his lips again. This needed to stop.

  Julian returned in no time, bearing some fabulous-looking and delicious-smelling food. The aroma of bacon from the wings and the al pastor chicken and lime from the tacos was making my mouth water.

  “Which do you want first?” He showcased each item like he was Vanna White.

  “Um . . . tacos.”

  “Excellent choice.” He handed over the cardboard container filled with tacos.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He settled back next to me.

  I took no time tasting my chicken tacos. Holy crow, flavor explosion. “Mmm.” I chewed and swallowed. “These are amazing. Take a bite.” I held out the taco.

  “We’re sharing germs already?”

  “Does that bother you, Dr. Bronson?”

  “Not at all.” He leaned in, his stubble tickling my fingers, and took a large bite. While he chewed, he groaned in pleasure. “That is good.”

  Some juice had dribbled down his chin. I in
stinctively wiped it with my thumb, and his brow quirked. “Um . . . you had some juice there. I didn’t want it to stain your shirt.” Do not be seduced by his face, I reminded myself. But up close he was very pretty.

  “Thanks, darlin’.” He leaned back and grabbed a wing.

  I berated myself for being so touchy-feely and flirty, even though I found he made it so easy to interact that way. To recover from my eager fingers, I thought it best to get to know him. “What made you decide you wanted to be a doctor?”

  “That’s classified information,” he said lightheartedly.

  “Oh really. Like if you told me, you would have to kill me classified?”

  “More like, I’d have to sue you if you ever divulged it.”

  “I’ll take my chances; I know some really good lawyers.”

  He tilted his head side to side, deliberating. “Okay,” he whispered. “This goes no further than here.”

  I played along and crossed my heart.

  “My mom was a huge General Hospital fan when I was growing up—still is.”

  “Shut the front door, so am I.” This news was practically life changing. The Bronsons were known for their propriety and pushing their children to be the best. Hence, they had a doctor and a VP on their hands. They were pretty standoffish, like their daughter. I could never imagine stuffy Mrs. Bronson watching a soap opera.

  “I figured, from your Rick Springfield obsession. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I thought the doctors were so cool and the nurses were hot. Who knew that they didn’t really have a nurses’ ball or a disco on the hospital campus?”

  I couldn’t help but giggle. “Honestly, why doesn’t every hospital have one?”

  “I’ve tried to get one going at each hospital I had privileges at, but it’s always been a no go.”

  “The question is, Who is your favorite General Hospital super couple? Mind you, your answer will determine whether we can be friends or not.”

  “Is this even a question? Felicia and Frisco.”

  Oh my gosh. It was like true love, but it wasn’t, because it could never be. However, if true love could be based on that answer, Julian and I would be headed down the aisle. “Ding, ding, ding. You passed. We will now be best friends.”