Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
WREN
B ack home, I spend the afternoon unpacking, moving my clothes into my new room, and trying not to think too much about the fact that Barrett asked me to the ball.
It doesn’t mean anything.
It doesn’t mean he missed me or regrets taking me for granted. If that were true, he would have made contact sometime in the past three months. I blocked his cell, but not his email address or the landline at work. He could have reached out any time, but he didn’t. He didn’t so much as like one of my shots of the Thai temples or white sand beaches on social media.
He made it clear with his silence that he’s still the same Barrett, the one who isn’t interested in getting to know me or meeting my needs. It’s best if I forget I ever saw him and concentrate on getting my house in order.
With Kyle sleeping in a giant dog bed by her human bed, it makes sense for Starling to take the master and for me to move into the guest room. I’m also seven inches shorter than my newly graduated little sis, and I figured she would appreciate the larger bed after years of sleeping in cramped college dorm rooms.
I’ll be just fine here, in the twin bed by the wall with the view of the backyard and the fruit trees blooming by the fence. It’s not like I need a ton of space or have any gentlemen callers spending the night on a regular basis.
At this rate you never will. You’re never going to be able to be romantic with Christian. Not when you already slept with his brother.
“Yeah, well, if I refused to date every McGuire in town, I’d be down to a very short list of single men,” I mutter aloud as I finish hanging the last of my summer dresses in the smaller, guest-room closet.
Another reason I’m better suited to this space—my work clothes are scrubs that fold up and easily fit in a drawer or two, while Starling needs a variety of business casual for her part-time job at the bank and fundraising side-hustles.
Fine, date a cousin, then, the inner voice continues to nag, but not his brother. That’s too weird. Can you imagine sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner with them and knowing you banged two of Fran’s sons?
“Yeah, well, if she hadn’t had so many kids, it wouldn’t be a problem,” I shoot back, jumping half a foot into the air when Starling asks, “Are you on the phone?” from the doorway.
I spin to her, pressing a hand to my racing heart. “No, I’m just…talking to myself. How was the photo shoot?”
“So good.” Starling grins, the dimple in her right cheek popping. My baby sister has always been a cutie, but in the past few years she’s grown into her prominent cheekbones and wide shoulders and looks more like a supermodel than a small-town bank teller.
No doubt the men of Bad Dog are going to make pursuing her this summer’s hottest competitive sport.
It’s another reason she should have the master. I can’t imagine Starling going long without a significant other, even with the lingering heartache of breaking up with her college boyfriend still bringing her down.
“The dogs were chaotic, but Kyle was so good. He posed and preened and totally stole the show. We got so many great candids of the staff and volunteers, too,” she says, wandering into the room and glancing inside the closet. “Is this going to be enough space for you? I can give you half my closet if you want. I don’t mind.”
“No, it’s fine,” I assure her, tossing the last of my throw pillows on the bed. “That’s all of my stuff. I’m finished and ready for supper.”
She beams. “Good. Come have a glass of wine with me while I cook. I need to hear all about Thailand and the clinic you volunteered at. And why you didn’t tell me that you and Dr. McGuire were doing the nasty, and that’s why you ran away without telling anyone you were leaving until you were halfway to the airport.”
My jaw dropping, I stutter, “Wh-what? Who told you that?”
“No one told me. I could tell by the way you two were penetrating each other with your eyes at the park.”
I start to protest that we were doing no such thing, but Starling cuts me off.
“It’s fine,” she continues. “I’m not mad that you ran or that you didn’t tell me why. After all, if you hadn’t asked me to come check on your house every few days, I wouldn’t have met Kyle or realized he didn’t know how to survive in the wild after eating toxic mold for so long. He might have died, and I never would have formed this amazing bond or experienced the joy of being kicked out of my dorm room five days before graduation for getting caught with a turkey in my bed. I’m a legend on campus now. My weird story will never die.” She pauses, crossing her arms as she leans back against the wall by the door. “But I would love to know why you didn’t take Christian up on his offer to back down and go to the ball with Dr. McGuire instead. You’ve had a thing for him forever. I’m confused.”
“I’m confused why Christian is Christian, but Barrett is Dr. McGuire.”
“Dr. McGuire is old,” Starling supplies with a shrug. “Christian isn’t.”
I huff. “He’s only thirty-five. That’s not old.”
“It is when you’re twenty-two,” Starling says. “And it’s about respect, too. I respect Dr. McGuire. Christian, not so much…”
“Why?” I ask. “He’s a nice guy.”
She rolls her eyes. “And I’m Dr. Dolittle.”
“You do have a way with animals,” I say. “Any news on the fundraising position going full-time?”
Starling shakes her head with a sigh. “No, the Furry Friends board isn’t meeting for a few weeks. They’ll vote on it then. I have all my fingers and toes crossed. I’m so grateful to Mr. Simmons for giving me a job straight out of school, but I’m so bored at the bank. My brain needs more stimulation and time in problem solving mode.” Her eyes narrow. “My brain is also really great at returning to the topic at hand when people try to distract me. So why go to the ball with Christian instead of Dr. McGuire? Was the sex that bad?”
I brush past her with a shake of my head. “I’m not discussing that. You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
I’m also not about to tell my baby sister that Barrett is a wizard in the bedroom, or that I still blush every time I walk past the place in the hall where he made me come three times in rapid succession.
“You don’t have to discuss it,” she says, following me down the hall toward the kitchen. “Actions speak louder than words. You literally ran halfway across the world to get away from Dr. McGuire’s penis.” She makes a soft gagging sound. “Ew, that feels so wrong. I don’t want to think about Dr. McGuire’s penis. He’s like my uncle or something.”
“Should I start snapping the peas?” I ask, reaching for the fridge handle.
Starling puts her hand on the door, holding it closed. “No, you should answer your sister, who wants you to be happy. You clearly still have feelings for Dr. McGuire, right? And he seems to like you, too. So, what gives?”
“I don’t know where you got the idea that he likes me,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “He barely knows me.”
Starling snorts. “What? You’ve worked for him for years. And you spent every weekend over at his house in middle school. I remember because I was so jealous that you were big enough to have sleepovers. Mom said I had to wait until I was eight, but I was only four, and at that point, four years seemed like an eternity.”
I shrug. “That doesn’t mean he knows who I am now. He was kind to me as a kid and he’s been a great boss who appreciates my hard work, but that’s it. He isn’t really my friend, let alone anything more.”
Her brows pinch together. “What? I thought you had tea together every afternoon before you left work? And you’re so close with his family that they invite you to all their parties. If that’s not friendship, what is?”
“He didn’t know that I could dance,” I say softly. “He thought I was some kind of wallflower.”
Starling blinks. “Wow. That’s weird. You always tear up a dance floor.” She cocks her head. “But maybe he hasn’t been around you in a dance-friendly situation?”
“We’ve been to several of the same weddings and, like you said, his family’s parties. He didn’t know I was a good shot, either, or that I eat vegetarian sushi for lunch almost every day. It’s like he never paid any attention to me at all. Like he looked right through me and didn’t notice a thing.”
My sister’s frown deepens. “Okay, but was he trying to change his ways? Did he make an effort to remember things after you guys started hooking up?”
“I don’t want to talk about this, Starling,” I say with a sigh. “And I’m hungry. I haven’t had anything to eat since brunch.”
“Just answer the question and I’ll start cooking. I promise. I just want to be sure you’re not making a mistake. Christian has a reputation, you know. Apparently, he flat out tells women he’s only into monogamy in moderation and will most likely break up with them within two to three months. Who does that?”
My shoulders lift closer to my ears. “At least he’s honest. I respect that.”
Starling sticks out her tongue. “Gross. I don’t. Why do good-looking men always assume their peen is like the only water fountain at the park and we’re all dying to line up for a turn?”
“I’m sorry Tyson cheated on you, honey,” I say. “He’s a total dumbass.”
“This isn’t about Tyson. Or me,” she says, clearly not ready to talk about the breakup just yet. Starling loves to pump me for romantic information, but when it comes to relationships with the opposite sex, we’re both private people. “This is about you,” she continues, “and Dr. McGuire, who just might need a little help learning how to be a good boyfriend.”
“He left, okay?’ I say, realizing I have to give her something. “We were together, I went to pee, and by the time I came out of the bathroom, he was gone.”
“Without saying goodbye?” she asks.
“Or leaving a note or anything,” I confirm. “He didn’t text the next morning, either, and he was not dead on the side of the road. Or kidnapped by bandits. He was just fine. I drove by his house to make sure, and there he was in his kitchen drinking coffee and reading the paper. That’s when I decided it was time to get out of town for a while.”
“Wow.” Starling chews on her bottom lip for a beat. “And that was the first time you’ve seen him since?”
“First time I’ve seen him or spoken to him. He didn’t email or reach out in any way while I was gone.”
Starling grunts. “Well, poop.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “Now, can we cook?”
“I wanted him to be a genius doctor who adores you, but is just bad at romance,” she says. “But it looks like he’s a jerk. Just like his little brother.”
“He’s not a jerk,” I say, compelled to defend Barrett for some reason, even though I’m determined to move on and not get sucked into pining for him again. “I think he’s scared of getting involved again. His divorce was hard on him. Lane cheated for months before coming clean and he had no idea anything was wrong. It left him feeling on unsteady ground when it comes to dating.”
Starling’s features soften. “Ugh, I can empathize. I’ve never felt like such a fool. How could I have missed the signs with Tyson? In hindsight, they were everywhere.”
I give her arm a gentle squeeze. “Because you’re a good, trusting person. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, I think it’s pretty brave.” I glance around the quiet kitchen. “Speaking of brave, where’s Kyle?”
“He was brave, right?” Starling says, perking up. “He was just trying to defend us from a big, loud man he perceived as a threat. He didn’t mean to be bad.”
“We still need to work on training him not to attack,” I say. “Or keep him on a shorter leash in public places until we’re sure he’ll listen when we tell him to sit.”
“Agreed,” she says. “I’m going to save some peas from supper to use as training treats.” She pulls open the fridge as she nods toward the window over the sink. “And he’s out back playing on the swing set.”
I cock my head. “Excuse me?”
“The swing set,” she repeats, pulling ingredients from the produce drawer. “The Tanners were selling their old one for cheap since their kids are all teenagers now. I bought it and set it up for Kyle. He won’t let me push him in the bucket swing yet, but he loves the slide and running up and down the seesaw.”
I cross to the window and gaze out in time to see Kyle zooming down a faded red slide, wings spread wide and wattle flapping in the breeze.
“Strangest pet ever,” I mumble.
“Best pet ever, you mean,” Starling says, appearing beside me with a bag of snap peas. “I’m so glad you didn’t let anyone shoot him. Wash these, I’ll start grilling the zucchini.”
Starling and I fall into the familiar rhythm of cooking dinner together, just like when we were kids, whipping up supper so Mom wouldn’t have to worry about it when she got home late from working a double shift at the accountant’s office during tax season. I’m so grateful to have her here. I haven’t minded living alone, but it’s nice to have someone to talk to, even if she doesn’t always respect my boundaries.
But that’s just part of being sisters.
I know Starling only pries because she cares.
I also know that I made the right decision this afternoon, though I seriously doubt that Christian and I will ever be more than friends. Even before Starling shared his “monogamy in moderation” policy, it felt weird to think about kissing Barrett’s brother, let alone anything more.
But I don’t regret saying no to Barrett.
In fact, I don’t think about Barrett again until after Starling and I finish dinner and adjourn to the living room to watch reruns of America’s Funniest Home Videos, a show Kyle appears to enjoy if the way he stalks back and forth in front of the TV, cooing low in his throat is any indication. It’s only when I pull my cell from the charging block in the corner and see a text from Barrett that my eyes zoom back to that spot in the hallway by the door, the one that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life.
His text may haunt me, too?—
Just wanted to tell you that I’m glad you’re back, and I look forward to seeing you in the office tomorrow. It hasn’t been the same without you.
“What’s up?” Starling asks.
“Nothing,” I say, setting the phone on the arm of the couch and tucking my legs beneath me. “Just one of the other nurses touching base.”
“Is something wrong? You looked sad.”
“I’m not sad,” I say, forcing a smile. “Everything’s fine.”
But everything’s not fine. Tomorrow, I jump back into my old routine. I should be excited. As much as I loved my big adventure, by the end of my travels, I was so homesick. I missed my job, my jewelry making supplies, my friends and family, even my crazy, but good-hearted, little hometown. I was ready for my life to get back to normal, but nothing about this feels normal.
Barrett and I are weird together now.
I have no idea what working with him will be like or if my vow to keep things professional will hold. All I know is that I don’t want to be the woman I was before. I don’t want to be taken for granted or mischaracterized or invisible.
I also don’t want to be hurt and sadly, I’m pretty sure that’s all Barrett has to offer me.