Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Mia
During the two-hour drive from Milwaukee to my small hometown south of Madison, we were mostly quiet. I was enjoying the winter beauty of the forest-lined highway. Brax seemed strangely on edge—too quiet for him—but that wasn’t my concern. My goal was simply to survive the next three days and pray they passed as quickly as possible.
He’d insisted on driving, showing up at my apartment with an eight-year-old Honda CR-V that he’d bought from a senior who’d rarely driven it. It struck me as a practical choice for someone who needed a reliable car and who was also trying to save money. Which was fine with me—practical was my family’s middle name.
He helped me load my suitcase, cookies I’d made, presents, boots, and snow gear without complaint. When I got in, I patted the seat beside me. “My grandma has seat liners just like this,” I said with an evil smile.
“I want to get full resale value, okay?” he said half joking, half defensively as he pulled away from the curb.
“I think they’re cute,” I said to let him know I wasn’t poking too much fun. “In a retro kind of way.” But I felt that I’d hit a nerve. I wanted so badly to know more about his childhood, what drove him to such practicality—but I knew he’d have to offer that up in his own time. So I kept the conversation light.
“So, what do I need to know?” he asked out of the blue.
“Beth’s my mom. Steven’s my dad,” I recited cheerfully, “and you’ve heard me mention my brothers Liam and Caleb. You already know that Caleb’s an orthopedic resident at UW. Liam’s married to Dina, and their little girl is Emma. And our dachshund is Cooper—he’s the real boss of the family. We’ve always been a doxie family.”
“Doxie?” I appreciated from the side how his nose crinkled up the slightest bit in confusion.
“That’s short for dachshund. I was working in a realty office the summer of my sophomore year of college, when my parents got Cooper from a rescue organization, and we bonded for life.” I looked over and smiled. “He really counts as my favorite sibling.”
Brax laughed. “What about grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins?”
“Yes, yes, yes, and yes.” Judging by his expression, I thought maybe it was good that over the next few days, Brax wouldn’t be overwhelmed by my whole family at once; he’d just experience a few wild ones at a time.
“A few days after Christmas, all four of my grandparents are flying in from Florida, and everyone’s getting together at my aunt’s in Green Bay. We usually have everyone at our house, but this year, no one wanted my mom to have to host. I’m sad to miss everyone.” I shrugged. “But I’m lucky to have Christmas off, so I’m not complaining.” We both knew how tight the call schedule was around the holidays, how everyone sacrificed for their few days off.
Brax seemed to take all that in, repeating everyone’s name like the good student he was. “Got it,” he said. “Anything else I should be prepared for?”
“No, not really.” So maybe I accidentally-on-purpose left out a few things. I wasn’t talking about how my parents enjoyed piling on food and love to nearly anyone who walked through their door. Or how my mom loved Christmas more than Frosty on steroids.
What I left out was the big Christmas bash Charlie’s family threw every year, that he and his new bride, Erin, were hosting this year. After all, I wasn’t going, so that wasn’t really an omission, right?
I also didn’t mention how my very tall and burly brothers were extremely protective of me, especially after what had happened with Charlie. I focused on imagining the expression on Brax’s face when we pulled up the driveway, and there my brothers would be, big arms crossed, waiting for us. No matter what happened over the next few days, it would be worth it for that one moment of seeing Brax’s face as they checked him over.
“Whoa,” Brax exclaimed. “Why are you smiling like that?”
I didn’t mention it was caused by the fact that my family had my back, no matter what. I might have been unlucky in love, but I’d hit the family jackpot in spades. “Just that you’re soon about to be hugged by a woman who is known to put a Christmas bow on anything that can’t move fast enough to avoid one. Just a warning.”
The corner of his mouth lifted up. “Good thing I was on the track team.”
“Stop,” I said jokingly. “I didn’t know that.”
“Sprinter. College scholarship.”
“Cool.” That made me sad. We were “friends,” yet I knew so little about him. Against my will, the image of a sweaty, shirtless, and very buff Brax jogging along our country roads flashed into my mind . Whew, that car heater must really be cranking out the heat!
“There you go again, still smiling.” He tossed me a quick glance from the driver’s seat. “Hope you’re not plotting my demise and planning to leave my body in a snow-covered pasture.”
“Only if you’re mean to my mom or do anything out of line.”
“Anything?” He raised a brow and sent me a look that sent another ball of heat barreling through me, clear down to my toes.
I wasn’t going to react to double entendres that might or might not be purposeful.
I wasn’t going to fall for him again, especially after trying so hard to un-fall.
I was going to be a freaking wall of self-discipline. I knew I could do it—after all, I’d had the cojones to survive four years of med school and a hair short of three more of residency. I would not let a man of all things get under my skin. No sirree.
I tried to focus on my excitement at going home and finally, finally seeing my family instead of my rogue feelings for Brax. Or the fact that I’d spent the past two hours trying to stop my heart from racing every time he smiled or said—well, anything, even something simple like “great coffee” in that low, deep voice of his. As a result, I felt a little shaky. My throat was dry and my nerves were jumping. Maybe it was from the giant coffee I’d consumed on the drive.
Or worry. Because once a person sees you with your family, it changes things. Makes them understand things. Makes them get to know you in the truest sense. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to keep hiding the intimate details of my past from him.
Not that I had secrets, but honestly, Brax had broken up with me. You don’t confess your deepest wounds, your deepest feelings, to someone who’s rejected you.
What was I worried about? He couldn’t stay charming and affable forever. This weekend, I would see his true colors. And his imperfections. Like maybe he had stinky feet. Or didn’t floss regularly. Or picked his nose.
“So, is Oak Bluff a small town?” he asked as he surveyed the view out the window, miles of farms and rolling countryside. As he drove, I took the opportunity to scrutinize his profile—strong—a nice forehead, a defined nose, a good chin, and a square, stubborn jaw. He sat straight but didn’t tend to hold tension in his neck or shoulders like I did. The thick layers of his dark hair curled a little over his coat collar, his open coat revealing a gray crewneck that matched well with his faded jeans.
I could’ve chosen worse.
My heart sank. Because I realized that I had seen him when he wasn’t charming and affable—I’d often seen him when he was exhausted and yet focused beyond belief trying to save a child from dying. And you know what? That Brax was pretty amazing too.
But who knew? Even the most affable, laid-back person could go bonkers when trapped with someone else’s family for a long weekend.
“Yes, a very small town,” I said. I felt that same little kick of excitement in my stomach whenever I thought about home. This was a region of water and forests, of sleepy little lake towns with Victorian summer getaways from a century ago, of forests and cherry trees and big blue skies. I almost said something like You’ll have to come back in the springtime when everything’s in bloom. We can go out on the lake. We can hike and bike and pick cherries at the cherry farms. Visit the farmers’ market and buy fresh veggies and bouquets of flowers bursting with rainbows of color.
I stopped myself from getting caught up in my own fantasy. The part where I found someone to love, who loved me back. That someone, I reminded myself sternly, wasn’t Brax.
Maybe he was the one who’d broken it off, and that had stung, but honestly, I didn’t want someone who’d straight-out told me he didn’t do serious. So there.
“Your family’s got a little farm?” he asked. If it were anyone but Brax, I’d say I detected a little waver in his voice, a bit of nerves.
“Okay, so it’s actually a big farm,” I began.
“Like, with crops and stuff?”
“Yes, city boy, a real farm. Five hundred acres,” I said proudly. I counted on my fingers. “Corn, soybeans, wheat. And we have cherry trees.”
“Cool.” He seemed to be mulling that over.
“You’ve been to a farm before, right?” I didn’t think I was prodding too much by asking.
“Does a petting zoo count?” he shot back with a slow, charming grin. “And of course I pass a lot of farmland when I drive from Philly to Milwaukee.”
I saw what I was dealing with. But I tried to be nice. “Okay, that counts—a little. But seeing our farm is going to knock your socks off. It’s…beautiful. All rolling hills and fresh air and…” How could I describe what a great place it was to grow up? “You’re going to love it.”
“All right, then, farm girl,” he said, still grinning as he turned to me. “I’ll take your word for it.”
From the passenger’s seat, I could feel the familiar heat spread low in my abdomen, straight through my body, and flare out as a burn in my cheeks.
I hated that heat. It reminded me of our third date, when we’d brought pizza back to my apartment, sat on my couch, and turned on the Packers. When our hands grazed, he took my hand and held it. My breath caught, and suddenly the game commentary might as well have been in another language, punctuated by whistles and cheers in the background.
It all faded into nothingness as our lips met.
The way we came together wasn’t tame, and it wasn’t slow, but rather wild from the beginning, our mouths greedy, our tongues tangling. We clutched at each other until we ended up horizontal on my couch, his mouth devouring me, me sinking my fingers into the wavy thickness of his hair and pulling him over me.
He smelled like shaving cream and simple bar soap, his bristle pleasantly rough on my cheek, his hands sure as he wrapped his arms around me.
And then his phone went off. It was one of the residents with a question about transferring a patient.
The call didn’t last too long, and I was about to suggest we take this to my bedroom when he sat down—now on the opposite side of my couch—and nervously tapped his fingertips together.
“What is it?” I asked. “Is someone really sick?”
When he looked up, I saw the heat that had so recently flamed in his eyes was replaced by conflict—maybe even misery. A premonition of cold dread shot straight through my overheated body.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” Clearly something was.
He stood up abruptly. “Mia, I like and respect you so much. So damn much. But I have to tell you now that I never do serious.”
I really liked where that was going until the last sentence.
“Do I—look like I just do serious?” The answer to that must have been yes. Six years with Charlie. Then two years of dating regrets. And now…him. And tragically, I was half in love already, after just three dates.
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Oh, that was the worst line. The line of rejection. I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted him so badly, more than I’d ever wanted anyone. Maybe my loneliness had made me desperate, but I could feel the pull between us as deeply as you feel the deep, booming bass on someone’s cranked-up car stereo at a red light. It felt different from anything I’d ever experienced with Charlie.
I wanted to joke, but I was nervous. I’d had a big breakup. I didn’t want to get hurt again. Was he just not into me? But he looked so pained. I could see it in the fine lines above his eyes. His mouth was pressed shut, his lips a straight line. He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
He got up to leave, but before I could think about what I was doing, I grabbed his hand and tugged on it. “Wait,” I said. He turned slowly around. “Don’t go.”
I held my breath. His gaze was conflicted, burning, agonized. Before I could let out that single breath, he stepped forward, swept me into his arms, and kissed me hard.
And he didn’t go. He stayed.
In the car, I shuddered from a sudden chill. I realized that Brax was calling my name.
“Where’d you go?” He touched my arm, which unfortunately started with that tingling sensation again.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m just—” I took a deep breath and tried to remember what we’d been talking about. Oh yes, the farm. My family. “I’m so grateful my mom’s doing well. And my dad—he’s been there every step of the way. I’m anxious to see for myself that they’re back to their old selves.” I was so full of emotion, I had to pause. “I have a great family.”
“Wow,” Brax said.
“What is it?”
He gave a slight shrug. “Most people have issues with their parents. Or they don’t get along with their siblings. You know, typical family stuff.”
I understood what he was saying, but I think that Gracie’s death had made us all appreciate each other a little bit more than typical kids appreciate their parents. Oh, we still had our teenage issues, but somehow, Gracie had made us older and wiser. Her death made us understand how lucky we were to have each other.
Speaking of Grace, I thought about mentioning her, but I just couldn’t. Her memory was so personal to me. Maybe I should have, but I just…didn’t.
I pretty much forgot everything I was worrying about as we finally turned into the long gravel drive. My family’s vintage Queen Anne house was nestled in soft, snowy hills, and came complete with turrets and Christmas lights and garlands with red bows and an electric candle lit in every single window. Clearly, cancer had not beaten the desire to decorate out of my mom, thank goodness. And I still just couldn’t stop grinning.
Home at last.