Chapter 14
GRETCHEN
The restaurant is lovely. A candlelit lamp flickers in front of us and the tables are spaced far enough apart that we have a semblance of privacy even though we're in public.
“How long have you wanted to be a nurse?”
Cooke's question is expected, but he seems genuinely interested in what I'll say. He's leaning forward, arms braced on the tabletop, and his focus isn't on the server setting drinks in front of us or the fresh baked bread. All of his heavy attention is directed solely at me.
“Since I was thirteen.” Cooke doesn't ask anything else. He patiently waits, giving me a chance to share what really fueled my passion to help others.
“My Grandma, she took care of me and Gavin a lot.
Anytime my mom couldn't, or wouldn't, Grandma stepped in.
I always knew we were safe with her. Right after my thirteenth birthday, we were living with her, and she had a bad fall on the stairs.
It was summertime, so I was home from school, and could take care of her every day.
It was like I was paying her back for all the times she'd taken care of us.
She thanked me so many times, and when she was back on her feet, she looked right at me and told me I was the best nurse she'd ever had.
That was all it took. I knew that's what I was going to be.”
Tears threaten, the stinging feeling in my eyes, and I blink quickly to fight them back.
“She died about six months before the court took Gavin away from our mother.
If she was still alive, she'd have been there instantly.
She'd have taken him, and he'd have been all right.
But she wasn't. So I stepped in to do what she couldn't.”
“So he'd be safe and taken care of.” Cooke's voice is low and it skates across my skin. Knowing that he understands makes me feel less alone.
“There are plenty of foster families that are great. They're essential and things aren't always bad.” I drag in a breath, my shoulders coming down. I don't have to carry this alone anymore. “But I needed to be there for him. And it worked out.”
“Your grandmother would be very proud of you.”
His words hit home and goosebumps erupt over my skin when he reaches out and takes my hand. It's a simple touch, a point of connection, put it sends a shot of heat through me. My stomach flips and the hunger I'd felt before shifts to a new kind of craving.
“Thank you. She was a really bright spot in our lives.
I wish Gavin could've had more time with her.” I can easily envision the way she'd look at him.
He's growing into such a wonderful young man, despite the challenges in his life, and I can ultimately trace that back to her. She deserves the credit.
“She'd be proud of him, too, I'm sure. But don't fail to give yourself credit.”
“That's nice of you to say.”
His fingers tighten on mine. “Accept the compliment, Gretchen.
I'm not going to lie to you. Ever. I evaluate businesses all the time and I don't hide from reality.
If I tell you something, I mean it. I admire you and what you've accomplished so quickly already. In your own career and with your brother. I want you to recognize that in yourself.”
The tears that simply threatened earlier are back and this time, I can't hold them back.
A few escape, rolling down my cheeks, but it's not because I'm sad.
Not really. It's just that I haven't had someone see me and all that I'm trying to do before.
And until this moment, I didn't realize how much I needed to know someone else did.
I swipe the tears away with my napkin, and wave away Cooke's concerned look. “How did you know exactly the right thing to say?”
Worry eases from his face and I'm rewarded with a smile. A real one. Wide, open, and full of caring.
“That's a relief, sweetheart. Because I was honestly afraid I'd completely messed that up.”
We laugh together and I can feel the shift between us. There's a current of understanding and connection now that we didn't have even just an hour ago. It makes me wonder where we could go from here.
The ice is broken and as our meals arrive, we dig in. There's no awkwardness now and I relax into the moment. Pure enjoyment.
And when we share the molten chocolate cake with ice cream, I savor every bite along with every morsel of detail he shares with me. I want this to last. For as long as it can.