The Doctor’s Simple Life (Love Heals All Wounds #3)

10. Sienna

CHAPTER 10

SIENNA

“ O h, hon, would you get a lettuce for me?”

“Sure, Gramma,” I say distantly, not paying as much attention as I should to the conversation.

“Pick a good one, okay?”

“Okay, Gramma.”

“I don’t want one with brown bits and bugs in it.”

I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying, I think they do quality control some of their produce a little, Gramma, and just say, “Okay, Gramma,” again instead.

Dutifully, I make my way over to the salad greens and pick out the juiciest head of lettuce that I can see. It might not be one hundred percent to her own high-quality standards, but there aren’t too many better choices.

I know what else Gramma likes: spinach, arugula, the store-brand salad mix. If I don’t get it now, she’ll just send me back again, so I grab everything from this section that she’s going to need and head back over to where she’s manning the cart.

The stack of plastic tubs is so tall that I can barely see where I’m going, and I have to stare at them so I don’t drop them. Fortunately, I know exactly where Gramma is, and she won’t have moved, so I shuffle back over to her and try not to drop anything.

Which is hard when I bump into someone as I step up to Gramma’s cart.

“Ugh, sorry,” I mutter as I dump all the greens into the cart, then blink up to see my grandmother and Reece staring at me from where I’ve interrupted their conversation.

What the hell is he doing in the grocery store? I didn’t think he could cook. I barely ever see him eat, honestly.

“Sienna, look,” says Gramma. “It’s Reece from work.”

“I can see that,” I say dryly. “Hello.”

“Hey, Sienna. How are you?”

“Good. How are you?”

Gramma’s eyes are burning into us as we have the world’s least inspiring conversation, and I feel my face flushing.

If Reece notices my discomfort, he doesn’t show it. “I just came in for a couple of things when I saw Mrs. Hale and thought I’d come over and see how she was doing.”

“There haven’t been any more seizures,” I say quickly, wanting him to go away.

“I know,” he says with a wry grin. “Peggy’s been telling me herself.”

Gramma reaches out to flap her hand at me as if telling me to shush. “It’s sweet of him to check in. He’s fitting right in with our community here. This is exactly the sort of service we expect”.

He flushes a little at that. I wonder how much it hurts him to be told that he’s fitting in well in the sort of place he despises.

I say nothing to try and stop myself from agreeing with Gramma. I don’t want to say anything nice about him right now, but the worst part is I kind of agree with her. He’s rude, self-centered and annoying, but when he actually puts in the effort, he has it in him to be a great doctor at Silverbell General.

Not that he would ever want to hear that.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re both doing well,” he says.

“You too, honey,” says Gramma. “It’s great to see you settling in with us so well here.”

“Anyway,” says Reece, folding his arms as if to protect himself from any awkward feelings, “It was good to bump into you. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay. See you,” I say.

He turns around and grabs his own cart, and I breathe a silent sigh of relief. I really don’t feel like coping with Reece right now.

But of course, my grandmother always knows best.

“Oh, honey,” she says, glancing into his cart and stopping him. “That can’t be all you’re getting.”

A pinkness washes over his high cheekbones. “No,” he says, his shoulders tensing defensively. “I was going to get some more cheese as well.”

Gramma fixes him with the kind of look that says complete disapproval, and he sags under the weight of it. I glance in and see half a dozen microwave meals, four bags of chips, a huge handful of other snacks, and some fake cheese. I bite my lip to stop myself from saying anything.

I haven’t seen anyone eat like this since I was a student. This man’s not getting a single vegetable. He’s a doctor. Surely he should know better than this.

He should know better than anyone the benefits of eating well and living a healthy life, even if he can’t cook for himself. I can’t understand why he’s only getting the cheapest meals possible too. It’s not like he’s struggling with his wages.

I guess this is a guy whose salary lets him eat out without thinking about it. I guess he must go to all the best restaurants in Miami. And I guess nothing here in Silverbell is good enough for him.

“Come to dinner tonight,” says Gramma out of the blue. “With us. At my house. I’ll cook.”

All the blood drains from my face. What is she doing?

“My heart won’t rest easy until I know you’ve had a proper meal in you. It’s the least I can do to repay you for coming over the other night.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to take up your precious time,” says Reece, and I shoot him a look to try and signal to him that arguing with Gramma when her mind is made up is basically impossible, and this is the kind of face she makes when her mind is made up.

“I insist,” says Gramma. “I won’t hear a single word except yes.”

“Well…” says Reece, floundering.

I turn to Gramma in a desperate attempt to see if I can dissuade her. It’s not that I don’t get why she wants to do this, but I don’t want to spend any more of my day with this man. And I certainly don’t want to spend my night being insinuated to by my grandmother that I should look at him like some kind of catch.

Not that he wouldn’t be for someone, I bet. He’s handsome, he’s got a great job, and when he puts his mind to it, he can even be kind of nice. But he’s not the man for me. I want someone who can love me. I don’t want someone who talks the talk but doesn’t know how to be open enough to let me in.

If I marry, I want a partnership. I want to feel safe.

And falling for a petty attraction is not either of those things.

“Are you sure this a great idea, Gramma?” I say. “Do we have enough stuff for dinner?”

That was the worst angle I could have possibly taken. She gives me a withering look, and I wince. Not only is my grandmother the kind of person who cooks for at least twelve people at all times, but even if she wasn’t, we are literally in the store right now.

“Of course,” says Gramma, then looks back at Reece. “Don’t you worry about a single thing. You will come over tonight, and I’ll make sure you’re looked after just right.”

“Okay, then, I guess,” says Reece, looking between Gramma and me as if he’s trying to decide what the right thing to do is. “Thank you very much.”

“The pleasure is mine, sweetie,” Gramma says with a grin. “And you have to put some more things in your cart. Come around with us. Let me fill you up.”

He looks between us again, and I sigh. There’s no way I’m going to win this fight.

Reece follows us around the store for the rest of the trip like some sort of sad, lost puppy and doesn’t complain when Gramma throws stuff in his cart without asking. It’s like she’s teaching a child to feed himself, and she’s treating him like that.

When we hit the checkout, for a second I think she’s going to try and buy all his groceries for him, something I would absolutely have to put a stop to, but she doesn’t. Instead, she tells him to call any time if he wants recipes or to come for dinner. He thanks her, and I say nothing.

How is he replacing me in my own family?

I know Gramma just feels bad for him, but he’s a grown man. Can’t he look after himself?