26. Knox
Chapter twenty-six
Knox
Rule#17: Label what's yours.
T he next two days with Gemma tripped along like an arpeggio, dancing over every happy nerve in my brain. We found a rhythm together like it was the most natural thing in the world, like we'd wanted to all along, but our points of pride had prevented it from happening. Now that we had both admitted we liked each other, our days fell into step with easy grace, and I found myself looking forward to the mornings and basking in the glow of our evenings together.
Gemma was not what I would call an easy-going person; if emotions were dosed out like drips from a stopper, she dumped out half the bottle every time she had one. But for me, an empty well long since dried out of anything stronger than apathetic hope, every drop of essence from Gemma's personality was welcome.
The problem was, I had a shadow of guilt hanging over our new relationship, and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. On the one hand, my mother had offered the apartment as an engagement gift. That was horribly tempting, and Gemma seemed willing to go along with the ruse for as long as it served us. On the other hand, it was wrong. I knew my mother didn’t want this wedding to take place, so I knew she had something else up her sleeve. Either a trick, or a plan to chase Gemma away.
The uneasiness followed me to work and back home, only to be banished by Gemma’s presence again. Azura was hard at work, plucking apart the particulars of our lease and trying to find loopholes. In the meantime, I tried not to think about it.
Which was easy to do when Gemma was so distracting—disconcertingly so. She texted me at four pm on a Tuesday that she had a solution to our "Pumpkin problem" and to meet me at the hardware store after my clinical hours ended. I caught the gist of the text from my smartwatch as I typed notes into a patient's file, and I smiled to myself faintly.
My patient, a heavily pregnant mother in her last trimester, leaned back on one hand, which crinkled the paper behind her. "Dr. Rook, you can smile? I was not aware of this."
I glanced up with guilt warming my neck. "Sorry. It was unprofessional of me—I'm not used to getting texts throughout the day." I typed into her notes that we needed to re-check her blood pressure in two weeks. It was borderline today.
"New girlfriend?" she asked with raised eyebrows. She had a thin face and carried her pregnancy a little deeper in her torso than most women. She looked barely four months pregnant at more than eight.
I gave her a surprised glance. "Is it that… obvious?"
"Very," she grinned.
I cleared my throat, closing out of the chart. "Yes, it's new. I won't make a habit of checking texts during our time together, though. Do you have any more questions?"
"Nope," she replied in a perfunctory way, straightening. "You go get her, Doc. You've been single for all three of my pregnancies, you know."
I frowned. "How… did you notice that?"
She held up her wedding ring. "The really serious ones last. I didn't notice any of these on you."
"Hm," I smiled, closing out of her chart and giving her my attention. "Observant of you. Any words of wisdom?"
She seemed to think about it for a moment before saying, "If you have to ask yourself if she's the right one, then she isn't. You'll know."
By the way she smiled, I assumed her words were meant to be somewhat lighthearted, but they hit me right in the chest. Because I did know. I hadn't once wondered if Gemma was right for me. I'd only ever wondered if she felt the same way or if I deserved her. But there was no question in my mind: Gemma was made for me.
When I left the exam room, I pulled my phone from my pocket to read the text in full.
Gemma:
I found a solution to the Pumpkin problem. At least temporarily. Meet me at the hardware store after you're done with work? I'll leave whenever you do.
Smiling again, I tapped out a reply.
Rook:
I'm finishing up here, anyway. I'll meet you there in twenty.
Gemma:
Most punctual of you, Dr. Rook. See you in a bit!
Shaking my head, I put the phone back in my pocket and tapped on the door to the nurses’ station. Madison looked up from the computer and gave me a wave. "Last one?"
I nodded. "Last one. I'm headed out if you have things here."
She gave me a thumbs up, and I noted that she hadn't even put her hair up in a clip today. Chill day for all of us, then. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Hey," she gave me her full attention suddenly. Madison had dyed one streak of her pixie cut bright orange, and her scrubs had ghosts on them. "Tomorrow is Halloween. I'm not kidding—you need to throw on a pair of vampire teeth or something at least. We're all dressing up. The patients love it."
My lip curled. "You've ruined my evening."
"Costume," she repeated with a point. Then, summarily dismissing me, she returned back to her screen. My practice was a dictatorship, and I was most decidedly not in charge.
I checked the address Gemma had texted me and knew which store she meant, so I gathered my scant belongings in my briefcase, put on my coat, and walked through the leaf-decorated, twinkle-light-infested building and out to my car. Most of us parked in on-street parking spots unless we wanted to walk to the nearby parking garage, and in this weather, I did not. A frigid wind blew through the dying trees, rustling the decaying husks of leaves and biting through my wool coat. I would need to switch to my winter coat at this rate.
I drove through downtown Eugene until the small city broke up some, and then I parked in the enormous lot of the hardware store. As I made my way toward the bright orange building, my instincts warned me that if Gemma had a thing planned, then it was highly likely I would be inconvenienced in some way. She met me at the sliding glass doors, wearing a puffy, white winter jacket and pink earmuffs over her ears. She waved, and as I held out a hand for her, a pink mitten grasped it with gratifying warmth. "Hey, fuck buddy," she grinned.
The sudden urge to tie her up and gag her nearly overwhelmed me. I gave her a dark look as I led us into the store. " Fuck buddy ?" I looked around the store, wondering if anyone had heard her, but the other customers and employees were well out of earshot. "What the hell is a fuck buddy?"
"You know." She punched me lightly on the shoulder like I was her best bro. "My… fun person."
I stopped her in the entrance by the carts and enormous dollies. "I think the word you're looking for is 'partner,' yes?"
Gemma's nose and cheeks went as pink as her earmuffs. She fiddled with the zipper on her coat nervously as she barely opened the side of her mouth to mutter, "I wasn't going to label anything."
"I'm labeling it," I said, tugging her forward again so we could get a cart. "At the very least, you're not calling me 'fuck buddy,'" I added with some irritation.
"Oh." Gemma halted me as I pulled out a regular, neon orange cart. "Hold up. We need the big one."
I slid a wary look her way. Slowly, I asked, "Why?"
Gemma let go of my hand and went for the enormous dolly carts. "For my brilliant project. I looked at your building plans, and even though you're technically renting the space, the land around the building is still fair game, so I'm building a home for Pumpkin."
I tried to fully digest what Gemma had just told me, but it was getting lodged somewhere between her words and actual logic. My brows came together in confusion. "You're building a… barn? At the apartment?"
"Not a barn," Gemma guffawed. "A small enclosure."
"On the apartment grounds ," I clarified, hoping in vain that she would realize how absurd that sounded.
"Mommy is giving you the whole building," she reminded me with factual ease. She pushed the cart right past me. "We can do whatever the hell we want. And if I'm going to go along with this stupidity," she added over her shoulder, "I'm building Pumpkin a home."
"What about the downstairs tenant?" I asked, following close behind her.
"Who, David?" I followed her as she steered the large dolly past the plumbing section and toward the lumber. "He's cool with it. He just wants to make sure the gym doesn't get touched." She gave me a conspiratorial look. "He's all roid-like, you know what I mean?"
"Gemma, hold on." I pinched the bridge of my nose, easily keeping up with her short-legged gait. "You talked to my neighbor about this?"
"Sure did. Don't worry; this whole plan is mobile, so when I move out eventually, I'll take it with me." She crossed her heart and gave me a serious look. "Scout's honor."
"That's not the correct hand sign—never mind. First of all, what do you mean when you move out?”
She gave me an innocent look. “Well, I mean… I will. Eventually.”
I held her gaze. This girl was clearly not picking up what I’d been putting down. “Will you?”
Her eyes widened. “ Won’t I?”
This was short circuiting her train of thought. “Never mind. Gemma, start from the beginning."
She sighed like I was taxing her patience. The irony. "I found this really convenient outdoor pen for dogs in the store's catalog online, and I was like hey, wait a minute, Pumpkin is even smaller than Mini. I bet this would work.”
I kneaded my forehead, trying to keep up with her physically and mentally. "I guess so? I really don't know anything about… ranching."
"I looked it up. The interwebs said it would work." She made a hard left turn down an aisle with yard supplies.
"Oh, well if the internet said it," I muttered sarcastically.
"I already called ahead to have them deliver the kennel—it's too big for my car."
"You don't say."
Gemma entered the area of the store that had fencing options for dogs, and she stopped in front of a wall that displayed several prefab options for indoors and outdoors. She gestured to them. "These are too big too, but I brought you so you can pick the color. Pick one you don't hate, and I'll go ring it up, and they can deliver that, too. Then we can get Pumpkin out of the house."
I gave her an incredulous side-eye. "This is why you brought me here?"
"Yes." She hesitated. "And also, to ambush you with the idea in an irrevocable way so that you would have no way of denying me."
"Ah." I folded my arms, surveying the options. There were several, but they didn't look terribly sturdy. I let out a defeated breath, knowing I had no other choice but to take control of this wild rodeo of an idea. I held her by her upper arms, tilting my eyes down so they were closer to level with hers. "Gemma. These aren't going to hold up to a sheep, and then she'll get out and you'll be beside yourself."
"I'm aware of that," she replied, her plucky enthusiasm giving way to a hint of doubt. "I did my research. It's just that these are… temporary. Easy to move." She watched me warily.
Ah. She was worried about our living arrangement. That didn't sit well in my stomach at all. "Gem… I'm not planning on making Pumpkin move… anytime soon. That's her home. She should stay there as long as she wants to."
Gemma looked unconvinced. "I'm just trying to find a solution that doesn't put Pumpkin somewhere else, but still gets her out of the apartment. But also… isn't cumbersome."
"You aren't cumbersome," I replied immediately.
She rolled her eyes, clearly half amused and half frustrated. "I didn't say I was. But a fence kind of is, especially when you didn't ask for that."
"Two nights ago, I asked you to stay with me," I reminded her gently. I squeezed her arms comfortingly. "And I'm well aware of everything that comes with you. And will likely continue to show up because there are all kinds of strays out there, and you will always be you."
She gave me a slightly hopeful smile. "So… you don't care if I build a woven wire fence behind your building?"
"I'll foot the bill," I promised. "If you bought the shelter for the animals, then I'll buy the fence. That's fair."
Gemma's vivid blue eyes lit up with surprise. "Wait, you mean that?"
I nodded. "Pumpkin can't live in the apartment forever, and you're clearly dead set on keeping her around for a while, so let's make it worthwhile. I'll consider it a pet-friendly investment for the property."
Gemma wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing the side of her face to my chest and squeezing me so tightly, it breathed life right into my body. "Thank you."
I fitted her more snugly to me with a crushing hug. "You're a pain in the ass, Gemma Daise."
She snorted into my coat. "But a cute pain, right?"
I pulled away and she looked up, smiling softly and melting every calcified wound in my heart until it beat a little easier. "You're a beautiful, generous, perfect pain in the ass."
She gave me a cheeky half-smile. "What else can I get away with, then? Should I ask for a pool?"
"Gem," I sighed, adjusting our position so I could lead us back down the aisles, leaving the dolly behind. "I'm wrapped so tightly around your finger, you could use me like a fucking marionette. What do you think?"
Gemma chuckled darkly. "The power."