Chapter 7
Willa
I catch myself humming while filling out patient charts.
Humming?
Yup. Humming. Weird.
I haven’t hummed in over two years, not since before the last guy made me believe that every sound I made was too loud, too annoying, too much.
But today I’m humming, and I can’t even be embarrassed about it because all I can think about is Henry’s smile and Ben’s excitement and the way it felt to be wanted.
Not needed. Not tolerated. Genuinely wanted.
My phone buzzes at six, just as I’m finishing up my last notes of the day. It’s a necessary part of my job, not the glamorous part. Not that pediatrics is glamorous, but keeping track of files is crucial and I take it seriously.
Unknown Number: This is Jake from Jake’s Auto.
Got your car all fixed up. New alternator installed.
I dropped it off at the office and left the keys at the front desk.
You’re all good to go. Henry covered the cost. Please, don’t argue with him.
I already tried. Man’s more stubborn than a rusted bolt.
I stare at the text, my throat tight.
He paid for my car. He paid… for… my… car?
Why would he pay for my car?!
I have to set my phone down as multiple realizations hit me at once.
Because he’s kind.
Because he cares.
Because he’s nothing like the last guy.
Not one single cell is the same.
And I really don’t know how to process this.
Overwhelmed? Yes.
Freaked out? Maybe.
Kinda turned on. Weirdly.
My phone buzzes again before I can process the first message.
Henry: Jake says your car is fixed. Was the alternator. Ben wants to know if you like chocolate chip or snickerdoodle cookies better. (I want to know too. :-))
After I take a deep breath, I’m smiling so hard my face actually hurts. I type back quickly, my fingers shaking.
Willa: Chocolate chip. Is there any other kind? ;-) And thank you. For everything. I really appreciate it.
The response is almost immediate.
Henry: Anytime, Doc. See you tomorrow morning?
Willa: Same order. But maybe I’ll be adventurous and try a different muffin.
Henry: That’s my girl. Living on the edge.
I freeze and stare at those three words. My hands get slick and I drop my phone.
My girl?
He probably didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just a phrase. A casual nothing. Simply something a nice guy says.
Right? Right?!
But my heart is racing like he just declared his undying love.
Get it together, Willa. You’ve known him for three months and talked to him for a total of maybe an hour. This is not—
My phone buzzes one more time. I pick it up off the floor like it’s a bomb. After all, it does keep exploding my brain.
Henry: Sleep well, Willa. Dream of chocolate chip cookies and handsome bakers. I mean Mark, of course.
I laugh out loud in my empty office, and it feels like freedom.
Willa: I’ll see what I can do. Mark’s nice to look at, but you’re something special. Goodnight, Henry.
I drive home in my newly fixed car, and for the first time since moving to Valentine, my cottage doesn’t feel empty. It feels like a place I’m coming home to, not a place I’m hiding in.
I make myself dinner —actual dinner, not just crackers, cheese, and a nice glass of wine— and I think about Henry’s smile. About Ben’s enthusiasm. About the way it felt to be part of their world, even for just twenty minutes.
And that night, I go to bed smiling.
For the first time in two years, I don’t dream about Wally.
I dream about a baker with kind eyes and flour-dusted forearms, and a little boy who thinks I’m kind of a big deal.