Chapter 7 Lucy
SEVEN
Lucy
THREE WEEKS LATER
I’m still working up the courage to tell Willa that I moved in with Miles.
The last couple of weeks have been a little hectic for her with her work and the court date. My poor sister had someone try to sue her for breach of contract. Willa easily won the case, but it had been a little stressful for her.
With so much going on for her, I didn’t want to make anything about me, which was why I told her I found a great place to live and that she should come visit after all the court stuff was settled.
And while I don’t like to take advantage of other people’s difficulties, It’s a relief I haven’t had to explain to her that I am living with her sort-of boss.
This morning, I made sure to leave some extra blueberry muffins on a plate for Miles before I left. This time, I threw all the dishes into the dishwasher before he could get to them. I want him to like having me there, not be aghast at my cooking messes.
I’m halfway to the veterinary clinic when my phone rings. I glance at the name on the screen and see that it’s Willa and decide I should probably answer it.
“Hello?”
“Are you living with Miles Granger?” Her voice is sharp and accusatory, like she’s asking me if I dabble in murder on the weekends.
I cough, trying to clear the immediate lump in my throat.
Uh-oh. I meant to be the one to tell her.
I really didn’t want her to find out from someone else.
I grimace as I imagine the disappointed look that’s probably on her face.
It should have been a red flag to me when I realized I was sneaking around with Miles.
We had fun bowling a few weeks ago, and since then, we’ve gone to a movie, gone grocery shopping after work—when we were safe from running into Willa or Kingston—and started binge-watching TV together.
I didn’t know having a roommate would be so much fun.
But I feel bad that I haven’t said anything to Willa yet.
I pull over onto the side of the road and open my messages while I put Willa on speakerphone. “How did you find out?”
It had to have been Margaret. Or Miles.
I open a text thread to Miles.
Me: Did you spill the beans?
It says my message has been delivered but doesn’t tell me if it’s been read or not. I don’t know if this means he’s normal and he doesn’t turn on his Read receipts or if he’s deliberately ignoring me.
“Why didn’t you live with me if you needed to split costs with a roommate?” Willa sounds offended, which is exactly what I was worried about.
“Listen, Willa. I love you to pieces. Why do you think I moved here? To be close to you! But I already told you that I was not going to live with you. I don’t like your couch. Your apartment’s tiny, and there’s just not enough room for two people.”
“But Miles?” Willa asks.
“Is there something wrong with Miles that I should know about?” I ask as I keep staring at my screen, waiting for him to text back and fess up.
“No, he’s actually pretty nice.” She sounds defeated. “I guess I was just surprised since you guys don’t know each other that well.”
“Willa, if it makes you feel better, it all happened so fast,” I try to explain.
“But how—” she starts to ask. “Why Miles?”
“Margaret told him I needed a place to live. I’m pretty sure she bullied him into saying yes.”
“Ahh. Okay. Well, that doesn’t come as a surprise.” She lets out a laugh, then says, “I actually asked Margaret to let you know if she knew of anywhere to live.”
At least now she sounds mildly amused rather than angry.
“Are you upset that I’m living with Miles?”
“No. I don’t think so. You’re an adult; you can live with who you want.”
“But you’re upset I’m not living with you…”
“No, I’m upset that you didn’t tell me,” she snaps back. “But also, yes! If you needed a roommate, I could have been that roommate.”
I set my phone back in the holder and pull onto the road, realizing that Miles is probably not going to text me back anytime soon.
“But Miles? I work with him! You could have said something!” Her volume is rising. “I’ve spoken with him multiple times over the last few weeks and didn’t even realize it!”
“This is why I didn’t tell you. You had a lot going on, and now you’re mad about it. I knew you’d freak out like this, and honestly, I just kind of wanted you to be happy that I was living in the same town.”
“Yes, I’m mad at you!” she yells at me. “I want to have fun sister sleepovers!”
“And what about when my laundry pile is on your couch?” I asked Willa. “Or when I come home covered in blood? Or manure?”
I just learned that our clinic services several local dairy farms as well. It’s only a matter of time before I come home covered in cow crap, and Willa doesn’t like dirt.
“I’m hanging up now,” Willa says, and then the line goes silent.
I snort. She was the one who called me, not the other way around. And that perfectly summarizes why it wouldn’t be good for us to live together. I don’t want to fight with her. I want to keep fixing the sisterly relationship that our parents’ divorce nearly destroyed.
I drive the rest of the way to work with a heavy heart, wondering if I made the right choice to move to Green Valley.
Work starts out slow.
There are a couple of vaccination appointments for dogs after a wellness check for a cat. The other veterinarian is going to let me do this wellness check because he’s prepping for a spay appointment.
I walk out into the waiting area to call the patient back. I grin when I see who it is.
Meyer Dunmore stands up, holding a cat carrier.
Meyer is my little sister’s best friend.
She’s someone who’s easy to like, and she’s been a good source of stability in my sister’s life.
Becoming her best friend, inviting her to family gatherings, and introducing Willa to Kingston, Meyer’s brother.
So, I guess the whole reason that Willa and I now live in Green Valley is Meyer. She started it all.
“Are you here for a checkup?” I ask as I reach for the crate in her arms.
Her biceps visibly flex, so I know that the cat in there can’t be light. I laugh when she lets go, and I feel exactly how heavy the monster is.
With a quick grin at Meyer, I peer through the door at a big orange blob inside. “Oh, hello, Gatsby. I see that the diet is treating you well.”
Meyer snorts and follows me back to the exam room.
“Archie and I really have been trying to regulate his food,” she says about her husband.
“I’m starting to suspect that Gatsby knows how to open the laundry room door and help himself to the cat food bag.
We’ve found some of it on the floor, outside of the bag.
And the thing is, Archie hasn’t been feeding him in there, and I know I haven’t, and we’ve been keeping that door closed, so I’m not quite sure how he’s sneaking in there and eating the cat food.
I’m thinking about getting a special safe that’s fingerprint coded. ”
Gatsby purrs as I reach into the carrier to pull him out. He really is a friendly cat.
“I just love him so much,” she says.
Gatsby looks up at me, twitching his tail. I run my hand from the top of his head down to his tail, and he arches into my touch.
“He just makes me want to scoop him up and squish him. So cute,” I say as I scratch the back of his head.
Gatsby seems to agree because he stands up on his hind legs and begins kneading his claws on the front of my scrubs.
“Do you suppose cats can get fat from eating spiders?” Meyer asks.
I look at her with wide eyes. “Eating spiders?”
“Well, this is going to sound strange, but once upon a time, there was a spider in my bathtub, and Gatsby came in and snatched it up and ran outside with it. And I’ve seen him do it a couple of times since, almost like he’s decided he can catch a spider easier than he can catch a mouse.”
“I mean, I guess, hypothetically, there are a lot of animals that survive by eating spiders and bugs, right?”
“It wouldn’t be so bad, but sometimes, he climbs up on my lap and tries to rub his face on mine and he’ll still have a leg hanging out of his mouth.”
I look down at Gatsby, and I’m pretty sure he’s smiling up at me.
“Well, the good news is you don’t have to call pest control.”
“I guess that’s true. And I guess the best part is that he’ll take them outside when he does catch them.”
I look at the clipboard to see the list of things she’s asked for. I do a wellness check and then proceed to give him his regular flea treatment while I ask Meyer to bring me up to speed on everything in her life.
“Kingston thought it would be a good idea to bring Paul over for a playdate.”
Kingston, Meyer’s brother, adopted a stray cat and named him Paul. He’s a biter. We’ve had some run-ins at our appointments, and he doesn’t like vaccinations. He’s an anti-vax cat. He probably has his own podcast about it somewhere.
I raise my eyebrows at that. “And how did that go?” I ask.
“About as well as you can expect,” Meyer says dryly. “It’s a good thing we love that cat.”
Gatsby bumps my hand for more loves, and I scratch behind his ears. He’s one of the friendliest cats I’ve ever been around.
“Soooo…how are you liking being in Green Valley?” Meyer asks as Gatsby purrs loudly.
Her face is innocent, but I have a feeling she knows exactly what Willa found out this morning.
“Willa texted you, didn’t she?”
Meyer smiles. “She called me on her way to work this morning. She was a little mad.”
Meyer’s putting it politely. Willa has the timidity of a tornado.
I sigh and tell her, “I didn’t mean for her to find out from someone else. It’s just that she’s had so much going on.”
“I know. I get it. But it would’ve been as easy as sending a text,” Meyer reminds me gently.
I nod slowly. “I know. I just was dreading sending that text. I didn’t want her to be upset. And the longer it went on, the easier it was to excuse not telling her. And now I’ve gone and made her angry.”
“Maybe you could just have her over. Extend the olive branch. Show her that you’re not trying to hide from her. Just like you said, she’s had a lot going on. You’ve been trying to give her her space.”
I scratch Gatsby as I mull that over.
“I do like that idea,” I admit. “My whole reason for moving here was to be close to her. But when she had that court case, it just became all-consuming, you know?”
“Of course. I get it. You’re the older sister, and you just wanted to protect her. But just so you know, she was super excited that you were moving to town. So don’t let her frustration come between you.”
“I can’t change how she feels,” I say softly.
I’ve done my best to protect Willa and be there for her through our parents’ extremely dysfunctional relationship.
I let her boss me around and ‘take charge’ in our relationship because it gave her a sense of control that I think she desperately needed, even though she’s the younger sister.
But I can’t sacrifice my own sanity to fulfill her every emotional need.
I don’t have that capability. She’s going to have to find that for herself.
Meyer’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean it like that.
Of course not! I just meant that it’s Willa.
She’ll probably storm around for a few days and then realize that her life was too chaotic for her to even have a conversation with you, and she’ll see that it wasn’t your fault either.
” Meyer sucks in a breath after blurting all of that out.
“Wow. I can be a rambler. Sorry about that.”
“No! Don’t apologize. You explained it perfectly that time,” I say with a smile. “Thank you. The last thing I want to do is hurt Willa. But I also know we shouldn’t live together. She’s too organized for me,” I add with a laugh.
Meyer nods. “My crafting setup makes her break out in hives.”
I chuckle at that as I carefully set Gatsby back in his carrier. “Well, I think I owe you a therapy fee after this visit,” I tease.
Meyer hefts the cat carrier with both hands. “No problem. You can pay me in good coffee. Or something juicy about your roommate.”
“Miles?” I ask as I peel the gloves and toss them in the garbage.
“Unless you have another roommate, then yes.”
“I thought you knew him pretty well.”
“He was friends with Kingston in college. I like him. He’s outgoing and fun, but there’s something…
” Meyer hesitates for a moment. Then, with both arms shaking, holding the crate, she blurts out, “But he’s careful to keep people at a distance.
A lot like you. You both keep people out by being friendly.
You’re both surface-level friendly without ever really getting deep with people. ”
I laugh at that absurd observation. “Okay, Dr. Meyer. Let me know when I can come lie on your couch again.”
Meyer shakes her head and smirks. “See? Deflecting.”
I hold the door open for her.
“Come over for dinner soon!” she calls back as she heads to the lobby of the clinic.
She’s so kind. And everything that Willa needs in her life. So where does that leave me?