Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
Brodie went straight to Maeve’s house. He was unexpectedly nervous. He couldn’t remember the last time he was nervous about seeing a woman, probably never.
He rang the bell. He’d brought a gift for Zoey but he should have brought flowers for Maeve. He would usually think to buy flowers. Before he could do anything about it, the screen door banged open and Zoey hurled herself into his arms. “You’re back!” she cried.
He staggered, unprepared, but as quickly righted himself and wrapped his arms around her waist and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. “I am back. I’m sorry I had to go.”
“It’s okay, Mom said you’d be back.”
Brodie frowned with surprise at the news. “She did?”
“Oh, yeah,” Zoey said, nodding profusely, not taking her big eyes off him. “I was worried you’d left us again but she promised me right away that you hadn’t and Mom doesn’t make promises she can’t keep.”
Brodie couldn’t quite process the news. It felt enormous, but there wasn’t time to think it through properly because Zoey was saying, “Where did you go? You know I went to Bella and Logan’s and I helped look after the sick horse?
Logan thinks I’d be a real good vet. Mom had a milkshake.
Your one—a Mudslide.” She rattled off seemingly everything that had happened since he’d been gone.
Brodie nodded along, listening, but also thinking that Maeve had promised Zoey he’d be back. I believe in you.
Zoey slid out of his arms to the floor and, spotting the bag in his hand, said shyly, “Did you get me anything?”
“Did I get you anything?” Brodie pretended to think for a second. “Do you think there might be something in here?” He held up the bag. “But don’t get your hopes up too much.”
Zoey bit her lip in anticipation.
Brodie reached into the bag and pulled out a bright yellow sweatshirt with the words Jackson General Hospital written in a white arc on the front.
Zoey gasped. “My own one!”
Brodie tipped his head. “Your own one.” Amazed how someone could be so thrilled with a hospital branded sweater, but pretty thrilled that only someone who knew her would know she’d love it—someone like her dad.
Zoey immediately pulled it on. It came down to her knees. “I love it. Thank you.” She thew her arms around his waist, cheek pressed to his stomach. “I’m glad you’re back,” she said, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.
“Me, too.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around her. “Me, too,” he whispered again into her hair.