“Can’t,” he replied. “We have the Leblanc wedding reception. He paid a small fortune to buy us out for the night.”
I ground my teeth, desperation getting the best of me. “I need you there.” And then the truth escaped my mouth before I had a chance to stop it. “You have to come. What if she tells me no?”
He paused with the cigarette halfway to his mouth. “She?”
I interlocked my fingers and rested them on the top of my head. “Dr. Mills. I was kinda hoping you’d come and put her in that weird trance thing that makes women actually like you.”
“The trance thing,” he repeated, humor thick in his voice.
“I don’t know. Okay? I just can’t afford to fuck this up and I thought maybe, if you were there, I’d have a better shot at getting her to say yes.”
I had no idea that a human face was capable of stretching that wide.
“Say it… You want celebrity Tanner Reese.”
“No, what I want is for you to stop talking in third person.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Then no. I can’t make it.”
“Fuck!” I exploded, tugging at the top of my hair. “Fine. I want the minor celebrity—”
“Major,” he countered.
I glowered and then amended through clenched teeth, “Major celebrity Tanner to come—”
“Full name or it doesn’t count.”
Closing my eyes, I tipped my head back and stared up at the wooden slats of the second-floor balcony. “I need you, major celebrity Tanner Reese, to come cook burgers and help me schmooze a doctor into taking your nephew on as a patient.”
When he didn’t reply with a smartass comment, I pried my eyes open and found him watching me with a satisfied grin.
He smacked my arm before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m fucking with you. I was in the minute you said it was for Trav.”
I shrugged his hand off. “You’re a dick.” But knowing he’d be there lifted the weight of the world off my shoulders. If anyone could talk a middle-aged, crotchety doctor into treating Travis, it was my brother.
Laughing, he put his cigarette out and headed to the door. “Whatever you need, man. Text me the details and let yourself out.” Just before the door closed behind him, he leaned his upper body out and said, “Go around the side of the house. I hear it’s past Andrea’s feeding time, and I don’t have time to save your ass with the ladies twice in one week.” He winked, and then he was gone.
He was seriously obnoxious, but with a barbeque to coordinate, a restaurant to open, two kids to pick up from my parents, an ambush medical consult to plan, and a beer calling my name from my refrigerator at home, I left his house smiling for the first time all day.
* * *
Something was wrong with me. And more than the normal bullshit that was always wrong with me. Usually by March ninth, I was done with the wallowing and I’d gotten my shit together. But it was now the tenth and I couldn’t seem to emerge from the madness churning in my head. I wasn’t sure if it was the realization that I’d had watching Tom fawn over my mom or maybe seeing Brady moving on with his new wife and son. Or maybe I’d finally gotten so lost in the darkness that I couldn’t find my way out.
But, whatever it was, it was drowning me.
Mr. Clark had still been at the hospital, but I hadn’t been able to drag myself up there to check on him. Instead, I’d allowed the on-call to treat him while I had lain in bed, soaking my pillow in salty tears, mourning the loss of what felt like my entire life.
It had been ten goddamn years; it should have been getting easier to climb out of bed every morning, not harder. Yet, that morning, as I’d forced myself to get dressed and leave the house, it had seemed more difficult than ever.
Enough was enough. I couldn’t keep living like that. That is if you could consider what I was doing living at all.
I needed something to change.
Anything.
Hell, maybe everything.
Deep down, I knew the truth. I was what needed to change. But it wasn’t going to happen without conscious and continuous effort on my part. It was only that realization that had led me to attend the office Spring Fling.
“You came!” Rita exclaimed as I’d strolled up to the welcome table. She raked her gaze over me. “And…in a hoodie. How charming.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know cocktail attire was required.”
I’d spent most of my free time mastering the skill of avoiding social gatherings. Baby showers. Birthdays. Weddings. Whatever. For a woman with three friends, I got invited to more shit than you could imagine. I’d found that, if I bought a gift card and sent it with my regrets, no one got pissy when I didn’t show. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it was financially responsible to mail a gift card to all thirty of the employees at our office with a note that said: Yes. You were right. I am an ice queen and would rather eat hissing cockroaches than attend a damn carnival. Here, accept this fifty-dollar Walmart gift card in my absence.
Though, judging by the side-eyes I’d received as I’d walked up, it probably would have been a welcome substitution.
“Why is everyone staring at me?” I whispered to Rita.
Folding her arms on top of the table, she leaned toward me and whispered back, “Because vampires can’t walk in the sun, honey.” She laughed. “I, for one, am thrilled you decided to come.”
“I’m sure you are. It saves you the trouble of burning my house down like you threatened on my voicemail twice yesterday.”
She beamed. “Yes. And that.”
Rita was crazy. All hell on wheels, beauty queen wrapped in pearls and Southern charm. She’d threatened me with worse than burning my house down over the years. Honestly, I’d been a little disappointed with her creativity with that one.
She lifted a long strip of blue tickets into the air, her short, blond hair bouncing as she energetically explained, “Everything from lunch to face painting is one ticket. You get ten free. After that, you can purchase more right here with me. All monies collected go toward—”
“Where’s Greg?” I asked, cutting her off. That speech was going to last for ten minutes, and she wasn’t going to take a breath the entire time.
She frowned, her excitement about whatever charity she’d chosen to donate to this year disappearing at the mention of his name. “Dr. Laughlin is spending the day in the dunking booth.”
I tsked in disappointment. “I thought we discussed the human dartboard?”
“I decided it might be a tad too violent for the kids.”
“Yeah, but the dunking booth isn’t nearly as satisfying to watch.”
“I don’t know about that.” She leaned in close, partitioning off her mouth from the people around us and whispered, “I filled the tank with ice water and paid the pitchers from the local high school baseball team to rotate through the line for a few hours.”
“Niiiiice,” I praised.
Her red-painted lips split with pride. “If he’s going to fire me, I’m going to earn it.”
My head snapped back. “What are you talking about? He’s not going to fire you.”
“Oh please. How long do you think he’s going to keep his ex-wife employed after I take him to the cleaners in divorce court?”
“I don’t care what happens between you two. He’s not firing you.”
She reached across the table and squeezed my arm. “You’re sweet, honey. But it’s bound to happen. And I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I can spend my days watching him parade around with whatever nurse he’s got his eye on next.”
I scoffed. “There isn’t a woman in that office who would touch him with a ten-foot pole after the shit he and Tammy pulled on you. Besides, that office is half mine. You aren’t going anywhere.”
Her faced warmed and saddened at the same time. “And I appreciate that, but, Charlotte, it’s time for me to move on. A man you love treats you like that, you don’t sit around pining after him. You put on your tightest little black dress and your best pair of heels, and strut into the future.” Her voice caught, but she kept right on smiling. “Life sucks sometimes. You and I know that better than anyone else, but we only get one.”