22. Jo
Chapter 22
Jo
Third Year of Fellowship
1.5 Years Ago, May
T he clanking sounds of coffee cups and tiny plates add to the mounting pressure against my temples. Maybe trying to get work done in here was a bad idea. This isn’t my home anymore.
“Can I get you another one?” I’m met with an impossibly bright pair of green eyes. Nodding, I attempt to speak, but it comes out more like a grunt. He grabs my half-empty cup of tepid coffee and leaves me to ruminate on the awkward interaction. I minimize the browser on my computer screen, watching the human with my coffee intently.
“Oh shit,” I whisper under my breath when I see Mr. Britlyn at the door to the shop. My bag sits open on the seat next to me, housing my favorite baseball cap. I grab it and secure it on my head, pulling the bill down over my eyes. He enters, approaching the counter where the green-eyed man stands with my cup of steaming brew. They both smile brightly, and the man points Mr. Britlyn to a large table in the corner.
My pulse quickens instantaneously, and I start packing up my belongings as quietly and unassumingly as I can. I swear to God, if he’s meeting Isaac, here I will walk right into traffic.
The man approaches my table again. “Your coffee.”
“Oh uh, can I get that in a to-go cup please?” My voice strains in a whisper, and he leans in close to hear me. A name tag clipped to his apron catches my eye.
Sam? My eyes bounce up to his and then back to where Mr. Britlyn sits, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
“Sam?” He looks down at his name tag, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“Yes, that’s my name.” He taps the name tag, trying to maintain his professional demeanor. “Is that a problem?”
“No, no, no,” I stutter, “not a problem at all.” I force a smile, “I’ve just got to get going. I’ll skip the to-go coffee, actually.”
He shakes his head, taking a step back from the table. “Whatever, lady.”
That damn bell above the entrance door jingles, and my heart stops. I’m too fucking late. The bustle of the restaurant halts when our eyes lock, but it ends just as quickly as Liam shoves Isaac further into the building.
“Come on, you’re holding up the line,” Liam’s voice fades away when he spots me, halfway out of my chair. Standing behind Isaac, he peeks his head around. “Well, shit. Is that Jo?”
Isaac elbows him in the chest, pulling a beanie off his head to reveal dark blonde locks. He approaches the table, massaging the knit fabric between his fingers.
What are we doing?
Is he going in for the hug?
Do I shake his hand?
Before my brain explodes, he pulls my waiter, Sam, into a tight hug.
“Hey, brother,” Sam lifts the coffee out of the way of Isaac’s arms, patting him on the back a few times before pulling away. “Dad’s over there.” Sam gestures to his father, who is only looking at me. He grabs one of his crutches, maintaining his gaze on me, and walks towards us. Isaac and Liam stand silently while Mr. Britlyn embraces me tightly.
“I thought that was you! I’m getting blind in my old age though.” He pulls back, and I’m surrounded by four Britlyn men, all silently staring into my soul.
“Well, I was just leaving. Have a good meal!” I finish zipping my bag, throwing it over my right shoulder. Isaac is surprisingly silent, still moving his hat from one hand to the other anxiously.
“Nonsense,” Mr. Britlyn places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We are celebrating!” He extends a hand to their table, “Please join us.”
“Oh no, I really can’t impose, Mr. Britlyn.” My backpack strap digs into my shoulder uncomfortably, and I shift the weight with my hand. My curiosity gets the best of me before I can stop myself. “But what are we celebrating?”
“I’ve told you to call me James. And you’ll join us.” The oldest of the four men takes hold of my free hand gently, guiding me towards the corner of the room.
For the first time in minutes, Isaac speaks up, staring at the floor. “At least let me buy you a coffee?” His voice is quiet.
My interview isn’t for another hour and a half. Realistically, if I leave Steamy Beans now, I’ll have to sit in my car and stew until it’s time to speak with Dr. Marciano.
“She already has a coffee here.” Sam pushes the white ceramic cup towards me. “I was going to dump it out after she judged my name tag.”
Deadpan and sarcastic. It is Sam. The last time I saw Sam, he was twelve and undergoing intensive chemotherapy for his reoccurrence of cancer. Seven years older and nearly two feet taller, he’s completely unrecognizable to me. Except for the eyes.
I should’ve known they were Britlyn eyes.
“Sam, you remember Jo. She came to visit you when you were in the children’s hospital.” Liam adds, throwing a smile my way. “You did puzzles together.”
“Ninja Turtles and Batman,” I add.
“Yeah, I remember.” The way words are exiting Sam’s mouth makes me think he’d rather be anywhere than standing with the four of us. “You came a bunch of times after Isaac lied and said I’d never see you again.”
I clear my throat quickly, avoiding the topic and Isaac’s intense stare. “I guess I can stay for one more cup,” I respond with a fake chuckle. Mr. Britlyn has been nothing but kind and supportive of me over the last ten years. I will suck it up and stay.
Just don’t look at him.
Don’t do it.
We take our seats in the wooden chairs surrounding the table. The scraping sound of the chairs against the flooring tile making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“So what are we celebrating?” I look between Liam and Sam who are seated opposite me. Mr. Britlyn hasn’t released my hand and I can feel the sweat accumulating between our palms.
He’s gotta know, right?
A dimple appears in Sam’s cheek, just like Isaac’s.
“My cancer is gone.” The sarcasm from before is completely absent from his tone. Mr. Britlyn squeezes my hand, and my eyes grow wide.
“Are you serious? That’s incredible news!” My voice comes out light and airy, and I squeeze Mr. Britlyn’s hand in response. “I’m so happy for you, Sam.”
“They say I can go to college in the fall. We’re visiting schools in Chicago soon.” His face tinges pink. “Well, if Dad can make it up there.” One morning when Isaac and I were in medical school, James Britlyn went to work thinking it would be a normal, average day. Instead, an accident left him nearly paralyzed. I witnessed him work so incredibly hard to get most of his lower extremity function back, but his use of crutches poses a challenge in a poorly designed world.
“Jo lives in Chicago. Maybe she can show you around,” Liam replies, “Right Jo?”
I clear my throat, releasing my hand from Mr. Britlyn’s grip. “I’m actually here interviewing for a research position at MMCI. So maybe not for long.” For the first time, I look over at Issac and he’s looking right back at me, his green eyes ablaze with something I can’t quite decipher.
“You’re moving back?” Isaac asks, nearly no emotion in his voice.
So he hasn’t become mute in the last four years. Good to know.
I glance down at my watch.
“Well, if this interview goes well, then hopefully.” I shrug, picking up my cold cup of coffee to take a swig. I set it back on the table and continue, “But speaking of the interview, I need to run.”
Isaac and Mr. Britlyn both stand in sync with me, and I smile politely. “Thank you for sharing the great news with me. It was great to see you all.” I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder once more, stepping out from between the table and my chair. I take a few steps away from the table, holding myself together.
“If you ever need a college recommendation letter, let me know,” I direct my words at Sam and walk straight out the door, not turning back or allowing my brain to spend any more wasted ATP on Isaac Britlyn.