Finding Jack, page 17
“Right?” Relief flooded his face, the tight lines around his eyes finally softening. “Friends is good.”
“Friends is good. But bad grammar.”
“But a good thing to be.”
“A good thing to be,” I agreed. “But I would prefer not to be the friend you tell your dating stories to.”
“Ditto. And tell Ranée not to send me pictures of any shoes you’re wearing on dates. Especially not if they’re high heels. And the higher they are, the less I want to see them.”
I leaned forward, like that was somehow going to magnify his face on the screen. “You have a thing for high heels?”
“I’m pretty tall. I appreciate them for purely practical reasons.” He drummed his fingers a couple of times. “Are we flirting?”
“You started it. Knock it off.”
“I will. I’m being serious. It’s weird not being able to send you something funny when it happens, or to go out of my way not to talk to you.” I opened my mouth to respond, but he held his hands up. “I know. That was my fault. But we’re good now?”
“We’re good.”
“So what should we talk about?”
How about how he wanted to sit across from me and listen to me laugh? That seemed like a pretty good start. But since I had agreed to the ground rules, I cleared my throat while I bought time to think of something else.
“Oh, I know. I finally figured out how to get revenge on Ranée for posting your Photoshopped pictures of us.”
“I gotta hear this.”
I recapped how she’d hated Paul then suddenly found herself volunteering alongside him at the barn and catching all the feels. “So in conclusion, neither of them is ever going to make a move on the other, and Paul especially is an overthinker, so I texted him and told him he should kiss her.”
“Out of the blue? Tell me what you said.”
“I said I knew there was no non-awkward way to say it, but that he should kiss her.”
“So you haven’t talked to this guy in a month—”
“Longer.”
“And that’s what you started with?” When I nodded, he burst out laughing. “Oh, man. Does she know?”
“No. She has no idea what she’s walking into.”
“Okay, but you have to tell me how this plays out. What did he say?”
“I don’t know. It just barely happened. He might have texted me while we were talking, but I haven’t looked at it yet.”
“Are you kidding me? Look at it now. Go!”
I laughed and opened my texts. “It’s from him. It says, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’”
“Is that possible?” Jack asked.
“Nope,” I said. “Ranée is never wrong about this stuff. If she feels a vibe, she’s right. I’m typing, ‘Too bad. Because I happen to know she’d be into it.’ There, I sent it.”
“You really don’t care?” Jack asked.
“I really don’t. I move on, and I’m done. If I wanted to still be with Paul, I’d still be with Paul.”
“But you don’t.”
There was a hint of wheedling about it, almost a question. “You’re flirting. Ground rules, dude. And no, I don’t.”
“Because?”
He was fully aware of the reason why. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying it. “Ground. Rules. Oh, I’m going to like this. It’s like pleading the fifth when I don’t want to answer anything.”
“Sorry. Did he text back?”
It came in right as he asked. “It says, ‘I don’t want to be that guy.’” I rolled my eyes and read aloud as I typed back. “You’re not that guy. This is me telling you: neither one of us will think you are.”
“I’m trying to imagine how I’d feel about this if I were him,” Jack said.
“Depends on whether you want to kiss Ranée.”
“I do not.”
“Then I guess we’ll see what—ooh, he texted back. ‘This is inappropriate for us to discuss.’ Well, hot dang!”
“That doesn’t sound good. Why do you sound happy? I thought you wanted him to kiss her.”
“I’m not as invested in this as you’re making me sound, but yeah, my gut says those two are going to be a weirdly good match, so I’m happy because I know Paul well enough to know that means he’s going to kiss Ranée. He’s got an old-school gentleman’s code, so no kissing and telling.”
Jack tucked his hair behind his ears and propped himself on his desk with crossed arms. “So let me get this straight: your revenge on Ranée is convincing your ex to kiss her, which is something they both want to happen?”
“Yeah.”
He grinned. “You’re not very good at revenge.”
“Trust me, there’s going to be a moment when she realizes that I said something to Paul. She will be furious and mortified, and even though I’ll never see that moment, it is completely satisfying just knowing she had it.”
“I don’t really understand women.”
“I’ll be your guide.”
He scrunched his face. “That wouldn’t bother you?”
“That would totally bother me. Never mind. Figure them out yourself.”
“I’m glad it would bother you.”
“GROUND RULES.”
“Oh, yeah. So what else do we talk about now that we’re done setting up your ex with your best friend? You’re weird.”
“You’re weird, hermit. Let’s talk about that. Tell me why you’re a hermit.”
“Because Oregon is nice.”
I felt like one of the pigeons who thought it was out for a nice flight until it suddenly slammed into my office window. He was being flip. He was always flippant. I knew this about him, but I wanted to know the real answer.
He sighed. “Sorry. Okay, why I’m a hermit. It’s a tale of woe, ridiculously tragic and melodramatic.”
“Should I pop some corn? Grab a hanky?”
“Yes, and definitely. Or maybe I’ll just give you the antiseptic version.”
“Was that a doctor joke?”
“Of course.” His hair had fallen from behind one of his ears, and he brushed it from his face in irritation, then reached for something off-camera as he started his story. “So I was a pediatric oncologist.”
“Was? I thought you were still a doctor.”
“I am. General practice right now.” He’d grabbed an elastic and was pulling his hair back as he talked. I swallowed hard as he settled it into a sloppy bun. It looked so much better back than down. I was a dead woman if he ever cut it. He paused, staring out at me from the screen, a tiny twitch playing at the corner of his mouth. Did he realize the effect he’d had on me?
He picked up his story. “So I was a pediatric oncologist. In Portland. It was a hard job, but I thought I was good at it. Then I got it wrong one too many times, and I left the children’s hospital. A friend of Sean’s runs this rural clinic, but his wife got an assignment with her microchip firm in Germany, and when Sean told me about it, I said I’d take over for him while they were gone.”
“How long are they going to be gone?”
“It was supposed to be an eighteen-month assignment, but they like it there, and I like it here, so it’s worked out so far for me to stay longer.”
There was more that he hadn’t said. I could feel all the spaces in between his words. He’d handed me the bare bones, but I wanted the connective tissue. Still, it was far more than he’d offered before, so I accepted it. “How long has it been?”
“Two years.”
I wanted to ask what had driven him out of the hospital and whether he was happy being a general practitioner after being a specialist. But I kept the questions to myself. Maybe it would come out over time. Maybe it wouldn’t. I didn’t have to decide right this second how I felt about that either way.
“How’s work for you?” he asked.
It was such an ordinary request, and yet it felt new in our dynamic. This small talk stuff had been off-limits before, and as I told him about the shape of my day, it felt like I’d been let out of a box to stretch, finally, and breathe fresh air.
That was it. That was the whole conversation. Basically, “I missed talking to you. Let’s at least be friends even though it won’t go further than that. How was your day? This is how mine went.”
So simple. But it felt so good.
A text alert went off on my phone. “Hang on,” I said. “I might have a status update on the plot for revenge.” I checked it and winced.
“Was it him?”
“No. It’s Ranée.”
“What did she say?”
“It says, ‘I’m coming home. And I’m going to kill you.’”
Chapter 28
Jack had only laughed when I told him I had to go stock up on ammunition and get ready for Ranée, but I hadn’t been kidding. I ran down to the corner liquor store to load up on candy. When Ranée charged through our front door a half hour later, I was waiting for her with three king-sized Snickers bars in front of me on the coffee table.
“What is wrong with you?” She slammed the door behind her.
I studied her closely and smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“What am I thanking you for? Humiliating me?”
“Honey, you have scruff burn and your lipstick is all gone. You have been kissed.”
She glared at me for another second then sighed and plopped into an armchair. “Give me sugar.”
“Didn’t Paul already do that?”
“Emily, so help me…”
I threw her a Snickers. “I don’t know why you’re mad. You look like you had an excellent time in the barn.”
“I can’t believe you texted him. That was the single most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“But then it was good?”
Finally, a grin broke through. “You were not lying about his skills.”
“I demand details.”
She wrinkled her nose at me.
“Not about the kissing! Tell me about how it got to that point.”
“I walked into the barn. He wouldn’t look at me, which is weird, because we have this energy that’s hard to explain where it’s like we’re uncomfortably aware of each other but we’re pretending like we aren’t, and even with all of that, it’s just easy to talk. But he wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and if he did, he blushed. Like actually turned pink.”
I grinned, imagining what must have been going through Paul’s mind after getting my text and then coming face-to-face with Ranée.
“We normally work with the same three kids, but he volunteered to work with the kid the program director normally helps so that she could go catch up on some paperwork or something. And then he basically avoided me the whole night.”
“Oh, Paul, you idiot.”
“Paul nothing. That was your fault.”
“Get to the good part. How did you get from that to this?” I waved at her beard rash and slightly puffy lips.
“We’re supposed to supervise the kids while they brush the horses at the end of the night, but Paul said he wanted to take his horse—well, the one he rides the most—around the trail once, so he told his kids they could leave. I told my kids they could go too because I also wanted to ride. I wanted them out of there so I could ask him if something was wrong. I was having a mini panic attack, thinking maybe one of us had butt-dialed him while we were talking earlier, and he’d heard the whole conversation.”
She was flustered. Ranée didn’t get flustered. It was an adorable look for her.
“Get to the good stuff,” I prompted her.
“I didn’t really want to ride, so I started taking off Gert’s saddle. She’s the horse.”
“I assumed.”
“And he steps into the stall and says, ‘I thought you wanted to ride.’”
I hooted. I couldn’t help it.
She threw a pillow at me. I batted it to the floor. “Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Sorry. Continue.”
“Anyway, I say no, that I just want to feed and water the horse in peace and quiet after a long week. Then I ask him why he isn’t riding.” She took a deep breath, and I leaned forward. This was about to get good. “Then he holds up his phone and says you texted him. And that’s when I knew I would kill you.”
“Did he even tell you what the text said?”
“No! It didn’t matter. There was not one thing you could have texted that I would have been okay with.” She picked at her jeans for a second. “What did you say?”
“Like you said, doesn’t matter. Here you are, all kissed and stuff. Fill in the blank after he said I texted him.”
“So he says you texted him, and I say, ‘oh, interesting,’ like an idiot because I can’t think of what else to say. Then he reaches over and takes the brush out of my hands and goes, ‘It really was,’ all kind of, um, sexy-like.”
My eyebrow went up. “Wow. Paul has developed moves. Good job, Paul.”
“That’s the thing. He hasn’t. He just said it quietly. Then he tosses the brush out of the way, and I’m standing there frozen, and he slides his hand around my neck and now I know what’s up, and then he gets even quieter but he gives me this look like, ‘Is this okay?’ and I think I gulped.” She got up and grabbed the pillow from the floor and hit me with it. “I gulped! Like a fish! I hate you.”
I snatched the pillow from her and hit her back. “You’re ruining the story. Tell me what happened next.”
“What happened next is that he took that gulp as a yes and he was dead right and then he kissed me.” She flopped back in her chair and closed her eyes, a small smile playing around her puffy lips.
“And?”
“And you’re an idiot for breaking up with him.”
“Hashtag no regrets.”
She opened her eyes and straightened in her seat. “I heard you say that you don’t care, and now I’m looking at you, and you truly don’t seem like you care.”
“Because I don’t care. I mean, I care that you had a nice time rolling in the hay.”
“I didn’t roll in the hay. Shut up.”
“Seriously. It’s all good. If he’s a good fit for you, then you have my blessing.”
“Thanks,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t feel okay about this if I didn’t.”
“But you do, so how do you feel?”
“I feel good.” She touched her lips, almost subconsciously, and I smothered a smile. She dropped her hand. “And also like I’m tired of talking about me. What did you do tonight?”
“Well…I talked to Jack.”
“You called him? Yes!”
“Actually, no. He texted and wanted to FaceTime.”
“Ooh, about what? Tell me everything.”
“Not much to tell. We have ground rules now. We’re just going to be friends, but this time there are no dumb restrictions on conversation. Except we agreed that neither of us wants to hear much about each other’s dates. Other than that, we can have all the small talk we want. And real talk.”
“Are you planning to date people?”
“If something comes up, I guess. But I haven’t checked my app in a while. Maybe if I get bored or something.” A funny expression flickered across her face. I couldn’t quite decipher it. “What?”
“Did Jack say he wasn’t going to talk about the people he dates either?”
“Yeah.”
“He doesn’t date anyone.”
“Is that what Sean says? Do they see each other often enough for Sean to know?” I knew it sounded like I was arguing that Jack was probably dating regularly. But I wanted Ranée to prove me wrong.
She gave me a long look, like she wasn’t fooled at all. “Sean works at the clinic as a nurse sometimes on his days off from doing guide stuff. He’s in there at least once a week. They talk. He says Jack doesn’t date. Not many options there, I guess, and if there were, he still doesn’t think Jack would be into it.”
“So he’s living not just as a hermit but as a celibate hermit in his mountain cabin?”
She shrugged. “Basically. Sean has been worried about him for a while.”
“Sean seems really into Jack’s business.”
“If it were me, wouldn’t you be? Or was that someone else who texted my stable partner tonight?”
“Point taken.”
She shrugged. “It’s an interesting friendship. He says he and Jack lost enough patients together that it was like being in the trenches or something. I think they had a particularly bad case and lost a patient, and Sean quit. Pediatrics was too intense for him. I think he’ll eventually get bored of playing mountain man and go back to nursing. That’s why he likes helping Jack at the clinic. He says the patients are a lot more fixable.”
A small pit opened in my stomach thinking about what it meant that pediatric cancer patients hadn’t been as fixable. My mind didn’t even want to wander down that path. I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Sean and Jack to live in that world, fighting losing battles day after day.
“Is he worried about Jack or just wanting to hook him up?”
She sighed. “He’s worried. Sean is snapping out of it. He’s getting restless. I don’t think it’ll be long before he’s back in Portland or somewhere else in nursing full-time. But I don’t think he’s going to do pediatrics again. Jack…I don’t know. Sean thought it would be so good for him to be outdoors more, reconnecting with the basics. Like unofficial therapy. And he says Jack is happy when he’s outdoors, but that he’s still not connecting with other people. Not even with his patients as much. And definitely not on dates.”
“Okay. So Jack’s not dating. Should I worry about that?”
“I’m saying…I don’t know. Be gentle with him, I guess.”
“There’s nothing to worry about here. We’re being honest about what this relationship is, which is platonic. We’re not going to date, so no flirting in our conversations.”
“Whose idea was it that you guys shouldn’t talk about the other dates you go on?”
“His.”
“That doesn’t sound like a guy who doesn’t care.”
“I wouldn’t like hearing about his other dates either. Not right now. But as we get into this friend groove, I think it won’t be such a big deal. You make him sound like he has no idea how to handle women, and I’m liable to crush him or something.”
