Malcolm
“So how are things going with your house guest?” Rory tosses his gloves into the bin after mine. We’re walking out of an exam room where a little probing led to a toddler letting out the most impressive gas I have ever heard. It seems he was more gas than human when he came in.
“Things are fine. She’s hanging around and I’m showing her around when I can. I imagine she’ll sort of use my house as a homebase once she’s up for more active exploring.”
“Uh-huh. But how are things gooooing?” Rory raises his eyebrows at me.
I grab him by the elbow and lead him away from the nurses’ station. “Keep your voice down, you know how people talk around here and there is nothing to talk about. She’s just staying at my house.”
“Who’s staying at your house?” Nurse Elsie steps around me.
“He has a beautiful American woman living with him.”
“Oh good grief. She’s not living with me. She’s staying with me briefly, and then she’s going home.”
Elsie directs her question at Rory. “Is something going on with them?”
“She’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. All signs point to yes.”
“Rory.”
“Elsie,” Alice, a new nurse to the E.D., calls from an exam room. “Will you help me with this blood draw? I can’t find a vein.”
“I’ll be right there,” Elsie calls back. “I want to hear more about this later.” Elsie, the nearly sixty-year-old nursing veteran, grins at me like a teenager before leaving to help Alice.
“Now everyone is gonna think I’m shacking up with Makenna, ya eejit.”
“I’m just having a wee bit of fun. And you should too.”
“This coming from the guy who was in favor of me letting her fend for herself during her recovery?”
“Well, you didny, so here we are.”
“But you know I don’t want to move, and I can’t expect that from her either. Cait didny even want to stay, and she was born here.”
“Does Makenna seem much like Cait?”
“No, she seems quite different.”
“Does she like it here?”
“Aye, she loves cool weather and enjoys hiking and nature. And history; she seems to love history.”
“Cait always wanted to be a city girl. It was obviously more important to her than you were.”
“Alright, yes. But we don’t need to dive into this right now.”
“Do you like Makenna?”
I sigh. “Aye, I do.”
“And you think she’s bonnie?”
“Aye, she’s a braw lass.”
“What if she’s perfect for you, man? I don’t want to lose you to the States, but wouldn’t it be worth it to be with her? And she might want to move here. You never know.”
“That’s what my da said.” Maybe it would be worth a try. There’s certainly something that draws me to her, something I never felt with Cait—and I was engaged to her.
“There’s an incoming trauma,” the desk clerk calls. “A thirty-year-old male took a fall on a steep hike.”
It’s an hour later than I’d expected to get home.
We worked on the hiker for almost two hours, but he didny make it.
Shifts like this always lead to a difficult night.
Though I know there’s nothing we could have done, I go over everything in my mind on the way home, and I don’t think to let Makenna know I’m on the way.
When I step into the house and toe off my shoes, I’m hit with a delicious smell, but no Makenna.
The only traces of her are her trainers by the door and a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table in my only vase.
All is quiet until I get near to the back of the house.
Music filters through the back door, and when I get closer to the window, I see Makenna strumming my guitar and singing.
Her eyes are closed, and her long black hair is piled up on her head.
She’s so beautiful. She has a scarf wrapped around her neck.
It’s the Robertson tartan. She’s wearing my family tartan.
I know she’ll stop when I open the door, so I remain where I am to observe her for a bit longer.
In this moment it’s like my eyes are opening for the first time.
I know I want to come home to her every night.
Or morning. Whether our home is here or in Georgia.
I want it. Simply seeing her has turned my night around.
And right now, all I want is to take the guitar, set it aside, and hold her in my arms.
I can’t wait any longer.
Her eyes fly open at the sound of the door. “Oh! You scared me.”
“I’m sorry, lass.”
“Oh, no. It’s totally fine. I was … well, I’d gotten worried about you and decided to try to distract myself. I guess I did a little too well.” She smiles sheepishly.
“You were worried about me?”
“Yes. When it’s the people I care about, I go straight to the worst-case scenario.”
She counts me among the people she cares about. That’s a place to start.
“Well, I’m certainly sorry I worried you. A patient came in right before my shift ended, and I couldn’t get away. He didny make it, so I was lost in that sadness, or it would have occurred to me to let you know I was on the way.”
“I’m so sorry.” Makenna stands and carefully sets my guitar on the patio table, then walks over to me. “Can I hug you?”
I pause, looking down at her. As if I would ever say no. “Aye. I’d like that.”
Makenna wraps her arms around my middle and holds me tight. “That has to be hard. How are you doing?”
I reach around and pull her closer. “I’m alright. It’s not as hard as when I first started, but some cases end up hurting more than others for some reason.”
“And this one did?” Her hands are making comforting strokes up and down my back, and I want to fuse myself to her. I can see myself falling so obnoxiously in love with her that my family would force me to move anyway.
“Aye. He was my age. And he was married, and I saw a baby on the home screen of his phone.” I swallow down the emotion, trying to not get worked up again.
“Oh my gosh. How horrible. That poor family.” One of her hands leaves my back and I think the hug is over, but she keeps the other firmly in place. She brings her hand between us and swipes her eyes. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Ah, don’t cry, lass. These things happen. They’re awful, but they’re a part of life.” Now I’m rubbing her back in hopes of comfort.
She steps out of my embrace with a watery smile. “I’d make a terrible E.R. doctor.”
I smile. “There’s not a lot of room for the tender-hearted in the E.D.” Wanting to change the subject, I finger her scarf. “I’ve not seen this before.”
“I bought it today.” She smiles, then looks concerned. “Is it weird that I bought your family tartan? I just thought it would be a fun way to remember you once I’m gone.”
The intensity of the sadness that hits me is surprising.
“It’s not weird at all. I like it, actually.”
A hint of pink touches her cheeks. “I’m glad.”
I point to the guitar on the table. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
She gives a small laugh. “I only know the basics.”
“And you sing.”
“Aye, I do,” she says with a grin, and I’m officially gaun mad for her.
“I’m ready for my concert anytime.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I couldn’t play in front of a professional.”
“Good thing I’m not a professional.”
She raises her eyebrows at me. “You forget I heard you at the pub.”
“Trust me, I’ll never forget spotting you there that night, lass.”
Her pale skin flushes the most bonnie shade of pink. I don’t want to say too much, so I don’t take that train any farther.
“You could possibly make an argument for me being a semi-professional, but I’d say even that’s a stretch.”
“Alright. I’m pretty rusty.” She picks up the guitar and sits back down. “I only picked it up because I was trying to distract myself, like I said.”
“I promise not to judge. I’m just excited to hear.” I sit down in the other patio chair.
Makenna gives me a small smile then turns her focus to the fingers of her left hand.
The playing wasn’t perfect, but I quickly recognized Landslide.
Her gaze moves between her hands as she picks the strings, unable—or unwilling—to look at me.
Whatever the reason, I’m grateful for it when she starts to sing.
Her voice is stunning, and I couldn’t help but stare, dumbstruck.
I’d noticed a slight rasp in her speaking voice but hadn’t thought anything of it.
Her pitch-perfect singing combined with that rasp, though?
Magic. Pure magic. Today has left me bone-tired, and all I want to do is lie down and listen to her for hours.
The song is over far too soon, and Makenna looks up at me with a sheepish smile.
“I think you might be the wizard,” I say.
She gives her eyes a wee roll and smiles. “What are you talking about?”
“That was magic.”
“Malcolm!” She looks like she’d more easily believe I was headed to space tomorrow.
“I’m serious. The guitar wasn’t perfect, but it was quite good. And I think you could improve that with practice. Your voice, though. It was magical. And I know this is odd, but it reminded me of touching a really nice blanket.”
She laughs at this. “That’s an interesting comparison.” She grins and I want to put the tip of my finger in her dimple. Why does she have to be so cute?
She sets the guitar back on the table as I shrug. “I can’t tell you how impressed I am right now.”
Makenna quirks her lips to the side, holding back a smile. But I see it in her eyes. She’s happy, and a little surprised to have impressed me. If she only knew just how much she impressed me. How much things have shifted for me in the short amount of time I’ve been home.
I only hope I’m not signing up for another round of pain.
“So tell me,” I ask, digging into my chicken pie she’d kept warm in the cooker. “Why Scotland? I know the part about your heritage, but was there more?”
“Well, you know I love history, which, of course, could lead me to a lot of places,” Makenna says, taking a sip of her spiced orange tea. After I’d filled my plate and she’d made her tea, we’d made our way back to the patio.
“Of course.”
“But my love of history really started with mine and Mom’s neighbor, Callum.”
“He’s Scottish?”
“Oh, aye,” she says with a huge grin.
“I love it when you do that.”
“Don’t say that, or I’ll do it all the time.”
“And that’s a problem, why?”
“I sure wouldn’t want to do it to someone who isn’t you. They’d be like, ‘Go home, American.’”
I laugh. “Might depend on the person.”
She smiles and looks down as she blows on her tea. I can’t help the trip my eyes take downward to her puckered lips. They are quite kissable.
I swallow. “So anyway. Your neighbour is Scottish. That’s braw.”
“He was Scottish. We lost him a few years back.”
I’m about to express my condolences when she waves me off. “It’s fine. He was old and had lived a great life. We loved him though; I called him Uncle Callum. For years I thought he actually was my uncle.”
“You have that part of your genealogy; maybe he was.”
Makenna laughs. “That’s true. But also … maybe you and I are related.” She raises her eyebrows at me.
I chuckle. “As far as I know I haven’t had a family member move from Scotland in the past hundred years. Before then, I don’t really know.”
“Are you into genealogy?”
“No. But Mam is. She has a very organized and very large, family tree she’s put together.”
“I knew I liked her.”
“She liked you too.”
She grins and sips her tea. “Callum was an amazing storyteller, and he had so many stories of growing up here. He planted the seed to travel here when I was quite small. As I grew older, I wanted to learn all I could about Scottish history, so I read a lot and even took an online course.”
“Wow. So this really is a dream come true kind of trip.”
“It is.”
“If … well, if you feel like you can’t see and do all the things you want to while staying with me, I understand.
” I set down my fork. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay.
I know I was somewhat insistent on it, but that was only because I wanted you to know that it would be really okay if you stayed.
And it is. I’m glad you’re here. But I don’t want to hold you back from the trip you’ve been dreaming of for so long.
Of course, you’d have your mam to contend with. ”
“That’s true.” She laughs. “I’m glad I’m here, too.
In fact, apart from the appendicitis, my trip is better than I expected.
It’s at least better than what I expected since Mai canceled.
I don’t know what I was thinking coming alone, but it’s really worked out.
And everything I had planned to do is within driving distance, so as long as you’ll have me, I’ll stay. ”
It’d likely give her a right fleg to know just how long I’d like her to stay. My voice is a bit more gravelly than usual when I say, “I’ll have you for as long as you’ll stay.” I enjoy the pink in Makenna’s cheeks as I pick up my fork and take another bite.