Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Nash
What have I gotten myself into? After four grueling days at the hospital, I’ve been looking forward to some downtime. A workout. Some reading. Physical therapy with Lucy but mostly, the rest my soul so desperately needs.
The offer of lunch was spur of the moment.
Inspired by her energy and enthusiasm.
I thought we’d get a quick bite and then I could retreat back to the safety of my house, my routine… as much as I can with her around.
Instead, I’m heading out to a mini festival.
When in the history of Nash Kincaid has this ever been a thing?
A quick memory flashes of a younger me, laughing with Jadelyn and our friends at the pier, wind in our hair, youth on our side, and the whole wide world open before us. That was a lifetime ago, before life got real and I got… tired.
“So, is that a yes?” Lucy asks, cocking her head with a look that says she knows she’s about to get what she wants, which basically forces me to apply at least a little resistance.
“You’re on crutches,” I begin but am stopped when Lucy rolls her eyes in the most adorably sassy way. It’s all I can do not to smile.
“Yes, yes, I’m on crutches, and blah, blah, blah there will be people and blah, blah, sand and blah, a million reasons to say no but come on, Nash. I’ll be fine and, I don’t want to shock you, but…” she lowers her voice to a whisper and feigns shock, “you might even have fun.”
“Fine.” I run a hand through my hair and can’t help but smile at Lucy’s little wiggle of happiness.
And suddenly we’re piling into my truck and winding through downtown Stillwater.
Lucy chatters happily, as I navigate thicker and thicker traffic.
People stroll down the sidewalk toward the pier, the crowd growing larger the closer we get.
The faint strains of music reach me, guitar, steel drums, a Bob Marley-esque vocalist. My fingers tap on the steering wheel in time with the rhythm. Lucy notices and smiles softly.
I find a space to park, and help her out of the truck, mindful of her flowy dress as I lower her to the ground, then hand her the crutches.
Her hair is down today, a curtain of blonde draping over sun-kissed shoulders.
A light dusting of eye shadow accentuates those shockingly blue eyes, eyes that rival the sky for glory.
“Look at all those food trucks! And the water is perfect, just sparkling and beautiful,” she exclaims, smiling politely at a family as they wander past us, then turning her attention to me. “I so needed a day like this. Thank you, Nash.”
A light breeze moves through her hair, sending the white fabric of her dress swirling around her ankles. She is a summer day come to life and I mentally take a picture of the moment.
We grab some grub from Fast Eddy’s Fantastic Eats—a Stillwater Shrimp Po’ Boy for me and a Grilled Sunshine Wrap for her, plus a pair of Pineapple Paradise Floats—then head to the end of the pier, dangling legs off the edge as we eat.
Part of Lucy is always dancing to the music.
Either her head is bobbing, her torso swaying, her legs swinging, or her fingers tapping.
I don’t think she’s even aware she’s doing it.
It’s endearing.
We talk about her life in Los Angeles. The grind of it. She tells me about balancing two jobs plus going to dance class every night, gym time, audition circuits, the day she finally got picked up by an agent, her eyes sparkling the entire time. This is a person who loves what she does.
“That sounds exhausting,” I say, shoving a bite of crispy shrimp drenched in remoulade sauce into my mouth. Combined with the freshness of the lettuce and tomato, the food alone was worth coming out for. But when you add in the company? I’m almost glad I let her talk me into it.
“It is. Believe me.” Lucy slurps at her drink, sparkling soda poured over fresh pineapple soft serve, then plucks the cherry out and slips it between her lips.
“But,” she continues, chewing thoughtfully, “it’s worth it.
I love my life. I mean, sure there are parts of being in LA that I hate.
I hadn’t realized how rude everyone is until coming home and remembering what it’s like to be around nice people.
And being treated as a commodity and not a person, that can be a little heart breaking. ”
“I’m sure it’s more than heartbreaking.” Demeaning is the word I have in mind, but I won’t feed it to her. She doesn’t need my cynicism diluting her passion.
“Enough about me, though. I want to know more about you. Did you always want to be a doctor?”
“For as long as I can remember.”
She smiles like she’s found a kindred spirit. “Same with me and dancing. Well, except, you actually got to live out your dream and I’m sitting here next to a pair of crutches, hoping this is just a pause and not the end. What’s it like?”
I shrug and swallow my first response: disappointing.
“Life never quite goes the way you imagine it.”
Lucy frowns and I hope she leaves it there.
Of course, she doesn’t.
“How so?”
This is the kind of stuff that’s better left unsaid.
Unthought. Just… un. There’s no changing what’s already happened, so why spend mental cycles on it all?
What’s the point of unpacking any of it?
I’m here. I’m fine. In fact, compared to so many others, I’m more than fine.
How dare I complain because, what? Life’s not as exciting as I thought?
Not as fulfilling? I don’t even know what it is that leaves me feeling so… empty.
Lucy bumps her shoulder against mine. “I see thoughts happening. This is a safe space. Promise.”
She looks so open, so genuine, so unassuming, I decide to throw her a bone.
“I wanted to join the Navy like my dad, get my medical degree that way, but I didn’t. I wish I had.”
For so, so many reasons.
Lucy bobs her head, pulling a bite of lemon-herb chicken out of her wrap. “I didn’t get a chance to meet your dad. He passed away before Bennett and I became friends, but boy, everyone talked about him like he was a hero.”
“He was. Robert Kincaid did what was right. He was kind but also hard, but in the best way. He called me on my mistakes, taught me to take responsibility for them, but never made me feel bad about messing up. There wasn’t a single person who came into his sphere who didn’t get exactly what they needed.
I wanted to honor him by following in his footsteps. ”
“What happened?”
I blow a puff of air past my lips. “Jadelyn. My ex.” I glance at Lucy who clicks her tongue and shakes her head in judgment.
“That bitch.”
That is not the response I expected from someone I don’t think I’ve heard use a single curse word. I recoil, surprised. “I’m sorry, what now?”
Lucy looks mortified. “Oh, are you not there yet? Whenever one of my friends breaks up with a guy, there’s a point where we all get together and call him an asshole for everything he did and then she stops feeling bad and starts moving on. I guess I just assumed you were there.”
“It’s been five years. I’m there. I just wasn’t ready for you to be there with me.”
“I got your back.” Lucy takes another drink of her Pineapple Paradise Float. “Why would she ask you to skip the military? Seems like a good way to get your education paid for to me.”
“Exactly! Plus, I’d get to see the world, serve my country, and honor my father. But Jadelyn didn’t think she could handle being a Navy wife. Begged me to skip the military and go straight to the doctor thing. Foolishly, I agreed.”
Lucy frowns. “You chose the girl over your dreams. Grayson chose the dreams over the girl.”
“Based on my experience, he did the right thing,” I mutter, then grimace. “No offense to your friend.”
“A little taken.” Lucy bumps my shoulder with hers. “Gabby is like a sister to me and just between us, I’m not sure she’s over it yet.”
“Fair enough. And definitely just between us, I’m one hundred percent sure Gray isn’t over it yet.”
Lucy’s brows lift. “That is a conversation we’re gonna have to circle back to someday, but for now, I feel the need to point something out. Maybe life didn’t go the way you expected, but you’re still living your dream. You’re a doctor, just like you always wanted.”
I bob my head and watch the sunlight sparkling over water.
Conversation and laughter sound behind us, mingling with the music from the band.
It’s a beautiful day, a beautiful world and I’m here, existing in it, but, somehow, not quite part of it.
My world is charts and patients, symptoms stacked into diagnosis, stitches and crash carts.
I meet people on the worst days of their lives and yet, there’s no one to meet me on the worst of mine.
But Lucy doesn’t want to hear that.
She wants the fairy tale. The dream come true.
So, I give it to her.
“I guess I am,” I say with a smile. “Funny how that works out.”
She cocks her head, eyes narrowing. “You’re holding back, Kincaid. Don’t think I can’t see it.”
I start to protest and she holds up a hand, interrupting. “And that’s fine. I appreciate what you felt comfortable sharing, but I feel the need to say something else.”
There’s a gentleness to her voice. A softness to her presence. The rest of the world fades away and it’s just us, sitting at the edge of a pier, basking in sunlight and good company. Lucy puts her hand over mine and cranes her neck to meet my eyes.
“Your dad would be proud of you, Nash. You said you wanted to honor him by following in his footsteps and you have. Look at what you’ve done for me.
You’ve gone above and beyond, making sure I have the best possible chance of getting my life back.
And I’m no one special. Basically a stranger.
Someone your brother knew when he was younger. ”
You’re incredibly special.
The thought comes unbidden as the wind blows a lock of hair into Lucy’s face. I brush it back, tuck it behind her ear.
“I’m really grateful for you,” she says, her voice low and real and honest, “and I think your dad would be really proud.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, then clear my throat and glance away. “Well, on that note, we should probably head back, don’t you think? We still have physical therapy to get through and I’m gonna need to swim for an hour to work off that sandwich.”
Lucy takes her hand off mine, brushing imaginary crumbs off her lap. “Yep. That all sounds good. Thanks for giving up so much of your day off for me.”
“Of course. This was surprisingly nice.”
Lucy grins. “Oh wow. Look at that. Nash Kincaid had fun and no one got hurt.”
I help her to her feet, aware of the scent of her shampoo, the softness of her skin and all I can think is yet. No one got hurt… yet.