10
“I wish there really was a tatted Marine at the hardware store,” Clara sighed over her tea.
“Tell me about it,” Yoli agreed ruefully.
“He’d probably be married anyway.”
“Amen, honey. But you gotta admit, he served his purpose.”
“He’s imaginary. He can’t serve a purpose.”
“Use your head, woman! Look who ran out to get lunch. Look who’s so eager to make sure you don’t go to the hardware store.”
Clara frowned. “You think Jesse got jealous?”
“I don’t think we can rule it out.”
She rested her chin in her hand and considered the odds of him caring what she did for Valentine’s Day. They didn’t seem good. “He’s taking awhile at the diner, isn’t he? I feel like he’s been gone half an hour.”
“Maybe he got lost.”
“This town’s not that big.”
“Maybe he stopped at another motorcycle accident.”
Her cell phone began to ring and she answered it immediately. “Where are you? Where is my lunch?”
“I’m sorry, are you hungry or something?” Jesse asked, sounding very unconcerned.
“I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.”
“That’s not what I heard. But I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“Lunch will be practically over by then,” she despaired. “I knew I should have gotten it myself.”
“Hey, I resent that. There was a line at the hardware store.”
She sat up straighter. “You went to the hardware store?”
Yoli’s eyes widened. They couldn’t be any wider than Clara’s were at that moment.
“Well, yeah, I thought you were going to go at lunch to get light bulbs.”
Could Yoli have been right? It was unthinkable! “You’re joking,” she managed.
“Uh, yeah, I’m joking,” he agreed, as though it had been obvious. “Unlike you, I have no interest in Marines.”
She closed her eyes. “Super funny.”
“There was a line at the diner, though. I talked to Claudia Del Amo for a while. She’s a huge fan of yours.”
“She’s nice,” Clara said mechanically.
“I know. I had her for pre-calculus in eleventh grade. She talked too much then, she talks too much now. For some reason she had the impression that I wanted to hear all about her family’s hunting cabin.”
“Huh. Weird.”
“Yeah. For some reason she believes that we’re all spending this weekend there.”
“Really?” Clara managed. “Huh.”
“Yeah. You know anything about that?”
“Did you…correct her?” Clara asked.
He muttered something she couldn’t make out, and hung up on her.
Clara lowered the phone. “He’ll be here in ten minutes. The hardware store was a joke. Ugh, what a rollercoaster.”
“What was after that part?”
“I think he’s staying the weekend to go to the Del Amos’ cabin with us for Mom’s birthday.”
Yoli looked impressed. “Okay, that’s a development.”
“I can’t believe it!” she said as the news started to sink in. Hope flared. “Maybe he’ll decide to buy it! I have to call Hart.”
“Don’t mind me,” Yoli said, opening a bag of Cheetos.
“No, he never takes my calls. I’ll send him a cryptic text,” Clara amended. She had been a prolific texter not too long ago, but now that she wore her fingernails long, she found herself making more phone calls than ever before.
Jesse wants to rent the del amos cabin for moms bday. Can u stay the whole weekend
An instant later, her phone rang again, displaying her older brother’s number this time.
“Clara, I can’t talk right now,” he said brusquely. “Are you in contact with Jesse Flores?”
“He’s here. He’s filling in for Mom at RFH this week.”
“ What? ”
“Yup. He flew in from Austin on Friday night.”
“Tell him to call me,” Hart snapped, and hung up.
“Why is everyone hanging up on me today?” she wondered aloud, choosing to ignore the fact that she had hung up on Jesse only that morning. “Drama, drama, drama.”
“He sounded mad,” Yoli observed.
“Yeah, I guess he didn’t know Jesse was in town,” Clara admitted. “I guess that means my younger brothers don’t know, either. They’re probably gonna flip out when they get here.”
“Wouldn’t want to be in Dr. Flores’s shoes, that’s for sure,” Yoli agreed.
The more Clara thought about it, the more she realized that Jesse might be in some peril when the day came.
When he finally arrived with the food, they all ate together around the kitchen table.
“Remember how you used to wrestle in high school?”
He frowned at her. “Do you really think I might not remember that? I wrestled for three years. I was good, too.”
“Uh, huh,” she said carelessly. “Do you…remember all that stuff? Like, how to do it?”
“Of course I remember it. What are you getting at?”
“Nothing. Unrelated, Hart wants you to call him.”
“And he did not sound happy,” Yoli warned cheerfully.
“Not afraid of Hart,” the doctor said, putting four french fries into his mouth at once.
“The one to be afraid of is Nash,” Yoli advised with a chuckle. “I don’t know why the youngest brother always towers over the others. Karma, I guess.”
“He’s a lot bigger than he was six years ago,” Clara agreed.
“And when he gets excited—” Yoli began.
“—he picks people up,” she and Clara finished in unison.
“I’m sorry?” Jesse said around his burger.
“He’s like a golden retriever you’re trying to train not to jump up on you every time you come home from work,” Clara explained. “He’s going to pick you up like you don’t weigh anything. When he does it to me, he puts me back down and apologizes. But sometimes he gets carried away and throws Hart into bodies of water. On the bright side, if Beck gets to you first, it won’t be an issue.”
Jesse had stopped chewing as he listened to her. “Why?”
“Because Beck’s going to sack you like a quarterback. So, maybe Nash won’t be able to pick you up and throw you. Maybe they’ll just both jump on you. Maybe you should try to be standing near a couch.”
“Maybe you should write a will,” Yoli added.
“I have a will, and I don’t need to stand near a couch,” he said, and shoved the rest of his burger into his mouth. “Back to work, ladies,” he added, indicating the clock on the wall above them.
Clara watched him clear the remnants of his lunch and toss his styrofoam container into the trash. “Am I in your will?”
“Uh, huh. You get my comic books,” he said as he left the room.
“I would sell them,” she called after him, and then sighed and began to close up her chicken caesar salad. She would have to finish it later.
She looked up from her computer screen to see Jesse escorting their last patient of the day out of an exam room. He brought the centenarian slowly and carefully to Clara’s desk.
“You’re all set, Mrs. Fairchild,” Clara said brightly. “No co-pay today.” This was technically true, because Clara had seen fit to waive the co-pay. Being the daughter of the proprietor had certain perks. “Your great-granddaughter just called to say she’s here to pick you up. And this is for you.”
She placed one of the heart cookies, now in a cellophane goodie bag, on the high counter. It had pale green frosting and the words SWEET PEA.
“Oh, my goodness,” Mrs. Fairchild said with a shaky laugh. “How darling.”
“Dr. Flores thought you’d like that one,” Clara lied shamelessly.
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Fairchild giggled. “Sweet pea. My Gerald used to call me sweet pea.”
“Dr. Flores has a way of knowing these things sometimes,” Clara said, ignoring a dark glance from the doctor. “I made you a little Valentine’s bouquet to take with you. Do you need a vase for it? I might be able to scare one up.”
“Oh, you sweetheart,” Mrs. Fairchild murmured, accepting the roses tied together with ribbon. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Well, it’s almost Valentine’s, and we want you to know that we love you.”
“I’ll put them in my Lennox vase from my wedding,” Mrs. Fairchild said, touching the petals gingerly. She looked up with a half-frown, half-smile. “ Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Clara said, happy that the gesture had been well-received.
“The cookie is far too pretty to eat, but I will enjoy looking at it. Oh, I must not keep Elena waiting. Good-bye, Clara.”
“Good-bye, Mrs. Fairchild. Call if you need anything.”
“Can I walk you out?” Jesse offered.
“Oh, Dr. Flores. I think you’re the nicest doctor I’ve ever had.”
He shot Clara another look, but she only smiled.
Jesse was back five minutes later to ask, “Have you been telling everyone that the flowers and cookies and goodie bags are from me?”
“Only Mrs. Fairchild got flowers.”
“But the rest?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Mind if I ask why?”
“Good business,” she said with a shrug.
“She just made her granddaughter ask me out.”
Clara raised her eyebrows. “Where are you going to take her? The diner or the Gila Monster?”
“Neither.”
“She’s going to cook? You’re going to cook? Y’all are going all the way to Marfa?”
“No, I’m not going out with her,” he said impatiently.
“Good call,” Clara approved. “She didn’t sound super nice on the phone.”
“She was perfectly nice. But I’m leaving town on Saturday at dawn.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re ‘leaving’ this weekend.”
“Don’t put leaving in air quotes. It’s scary.”
“Well, we’ll see. I thought I was leaving, too, once upon a time.”
She expected him to walk away, but he asked, “So, you do all the billing? Scheduling?”
“Uh, yep.”
“You like it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s easy. A little tedious.” She looked up to see him watching her thoughtfully, so she continued, “When I got here last summer, my mom and Dr. Pike and Yoli and Darcy the nurse were trying to figure out the computer. The software they had was huge and way too complicated for a small office. My mom and Dr. Pike couldn’t get their calendars to sync so they were making appointments on a paper calendar. So I was like, okay, move over. Six months later, I’m still here. But at least I got them some decent software and I got everything caught up with the insurance companies and sent invoices to a bunch of people who didn’t know how to pay.”
“Billing insurance companies is no cakewalk.”
“Yeah. Luckily, there’s not a whole lot going on here. Same procedures over and over.”
“That makes sense. I thought you were saying the other day how much you hate business.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I can’t figure it out.”
He nodded. “Is your mom actively looking for an office manager?”
“Are you kidding? Not even on her radar. But I’m looking. I have listings on a bunch of job sites. The candidate pool’s kind of limited around here. Going to a job fair at the high school in a few weeks, though.”
“That’s a good idea. Then you can get out of here, maybe move back to Austin.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Austin?”
“Sure. You know, a real city. Nothing’s going to happen to you while you’re buried out here, living in your mom’s house.”
“Happen?” she asked. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, opportunities. For one thing, it’s impossible to date in this town. Everyone knows everyone. No job market to speak of, either.”
“True,” she said vaguely. She was very curious to know where he was going with this new campaign to relocate her so that she could date with more privacy. “I don’t have a lot of friends left in Austin. If I moved back, would you hang out with me?”
He looked dark and brooding for a moment, and then said, “I don’t know.”
So much for that, she thought wryly. “Anyway, we need to talk about the hunting cabin.”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Why are you backing away?” she accused.
“It’s five o’clock. I’m leaving.”
She watched his hasty departure through narrowed eyes.
When she got home from work she ran upstairs to exchange her pink dress for loungewear.
“Where is everyone?” she called, heading back down.
“I’m in the kitchen,” her mother answered.
Clara found Dr. Wilder sitting at the counter, grating a block of cheese. In fact, it looked like she had grated several blocks of cheese already.
“Hey, where’s Dad?”
“He and Jesse are out back.”
“It’s freezing out there. What are you doing, making pizza?”
“Ah, no, there’s a lasagna and some garlic bread in the oven. This is…more of a side project.”
Clara eyed the cheese thoughtfully.
“I just wanted to get these blocks shredded and into smaller bags. You know, for freezing.”
“Oh, my gosh, you are so bored! This is rock bottom, isn’t it?”
Her mother smiled ruefully. “I hope so.”
“What would you say to a little birthday trip this weekend? Mini vacay?”
Dr. Wilder looked surprised. “But the boys will be here.”
“We’ll take them with us, silly.”
“What about Jesse?”
The back door opened and the two men came in together on a stiff gust of wind, their arms laden with firewood. “Jesse? The whole thing was practically his idea.”
Jesse gave her a dark look but didn’t bother arguing. He followed the Colonel to the hearth and began to stack the logs in neat rows, one at a time.
“We’re going to the Del Amo cabin,” Clara explained, watching him. “It’s supposed to snow six inches Saturday night.”
Her mother’s body language underwent a sea change, her shoulders squared and her face seemed to light up. “Really? Oh, I would love that.”
“It’s settled, then. We’re having lunch at Aunt Liesl’s on Friday, and we can drive up to the mountains after.”
“That sounds great. Will the boys be here in time?”
“They said they would be.”
“And you and Jesse? Taking a half-day?”
“I didn’t schedule any appointments on that day. If Jesse okays it, we’re not opening at all.”
“Okay,” Jesse said briefly.
Dr. Wilder sighed in contentment. “Good.”
“Your birthday’ll have pretty good attendance this year,” the Colonel observed, entering the kitchen just as the timer began to beep. He shut it off and opened the oven.
“Best in a long time,” his wife answered, and everyone looked surreptitiously at the prodigal.
Jesse was washing his hands at the sink; Clara waited until he finished and then pointed to the hand lotion dispenser beside the soft soap.
He gave her much the same look he had given her a minute ago about the cabin, but he got some lotion.
“Gotta take care of those surgeon hands,” she reminded him.
“Thanks for not calling them money-makers,” he grumbled.
She laughed. “By the way, did you ever call Hart?”
“Why would I call Hart?” he asked blankly.
“He wanted you to call him! Remember?”
“I don’t take orders from that little rooster.”
“Don’t think of it as an order. He just doesn’t have your number.”
“I don’t have his number, either,” he pointed out. “But I’m supposed to get it and call him. He can’t be bothered to do the same. He’s way too important and busy—doing what? What is he, a lawyer?”
“No, he’s in commercial real estate.”
“He’s a frickin’ realtor.”
She couldn’t help laughing again. “I’ll text him your number and I’m sure he’ll call you. Maybe you two can get together when you go back home.”
“Right,” he said sardonically.
“Are you nervous about seeing the boys? Hart will be sarcastic to cover his emotion. Beck and Nash will be thrilled and they won’t hide it.”
“You weren’t thrilled,” he pointed out.
For some reason, she felt her face heating up. “You and I were never really friends.”
“That’s because you were a bratty little girl,” he said promptly.
“I wasn’t that bratty. You were probably just afraid of girls.”
“Afraid you’d steal my stuff? Maybe.”
“I think you’re still afraid of me,” Clara said thoughtfully. “I’m still wondering why you backed out of the office earlier, instead of walking out like a normal person.”
“Jeez, Clara, maybe I’m afraid of buying a cabin I don’t want. Ever think of that?”
She didn’t know if she was more surprised by the total irrationality of the words or the indignation with which he said them. “Why would you buy a cabin you don’t want?” she exclaimed.
“Why am I putting scented lotion on my hands?” he retorted. “Suddenly I’m going to karaoke and tying bows on goodie bags and staying the weekend.”
Her eyes widened at the implication. “Wait, you think I made you do all that stuff?”
“No one else did.”
“Well, I didn’t either! And even if I did, using hand lotion isn’t the same as buying a whole cabin.”
“What if it’s a slippery slope?”
“That’s ridiculous. And I didn’t even ask you to help with the goodie bags—you offered!”
“I know. That’s the scary part.” He accepted a plate of lasagna from the Colonel and thanked him.
Clara sat down across the table from him and reached for the salad tongs. “You’re not making any sense. There’s no way I could make you buy a cabin.”
He knocked on the tabletop three times, picked up the salt shaker and dumped some salt over his left shoulder.
“What was that for?” she cried, aghast.
“Just in case.”
Clara hid her face in her hands, clinging to her composure. After a few moments of careful breathing, she risked a glance at him.
He was eating with the enthusiasm and focus of a very hungry man.
She, on the other hand, could not seem to work up any interest in her dinner. “You’re acting like I’m a hypnotist or something.”
“Maybe not,” he said around a mouthful. He shrugged philosophically. “But you are kind of witchy. Like your mom.”
Her mouth fell open—a slur against her mother! “ Witchy? ”
“Just glad I don’t live around here,” he reflected. “I’d constantly be doing stuff I don’t want to do.”
“Wow,” she managed, speechless in the face of this new development. Witchy.
“Great lasagna,” he added.
Clara looked at her mother to see that the doctor was intent on her own dinner and looking totally innocent.
The Colonel met Clara’s eyes benignly, apparently feeling no need to rise to anyone’s defense. Which meant, she thought, that he agreed .