Chapter 6
Karen has been a patient for about three years.
I met her for the first time when she brought her son in for a check-up before the new school year. He’s a sweet kid. Shy at first, moving to a new town and all, but he’s come out of his shell the last few years.
She’s a single parent, tough, capable. A good mom. Moved here alone after what Jess told me was a nasty divorce, leaving everything she knew for a fresh start in our little town.
I’ve seen her cutting hair at the local salon where Addie gets her eyebrows waxed once a month, and she always says hello.
I head to the waiting room and call her name.
She stands, smoothing the front of her shirt that I can’t help but notice is cut lower than what I would expect my patients to be wearing. “Hi, Dr. Murphy,” she says, her voice warmer than usual, her smile a bit too bright for someone at the doctor’s office.
“Hello, Karen.” I hold the door open, and she passes close by me. Too close, maybe, but I’m probably reading into it. I lead her down the hall to exam room one and pull up her chart on the laptop while she settles onto the exam table. “How are you feeling? Anything new since your last visit?”
“Oh, I feel great,” she says, with a wave of her hand.
“Good.” I scan her chart, noting that everything from her previous check-up looked good, other than slightly elevated blood pressure. But she’s young and otherwise healthy, so probably stress.
Mine isn’t much better these days.
I turn to face her, finding her already watching me move around the room with an easy smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Let’s go through the usual, and we’ll get you out of here.”
“There’s no rush, you know I’m always happy to see my favorite doctor.” I strap the blood pressure cuff around her arm, ignoring her comment. I can feel her eyes on my face the entire time.
“How are you doing?” she asks while I write down the numbers.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I lie for the third time today. But she doesn’t take the lie for what it is.
“You seem tired. Are you eating enough?”
I look up from the chart, fully aware that she’s doing the thing people have started to do after my divorce. Asking with pity and concern about my overall well-being now that my wife has up and left me. The soft eyes and the gentle voice.
“I eat fine.”
“It’s just, I went through a divorce too, you know? And I know how hard it was to remember to eat when I didn’t have someone to eat with.” She pauses. “I’m sorry, is that too personal? You seem like you’re managing so well, but I know what it feels like.”
She reaches out to put her hand on my shoulder, but I move before she can, grabbing my tools. “It can be hard, but I’m dealing the best I can,” I say, moving on swiftly. “Any more of those headaches we discussed?”
“They’ve mostly gone away.”
“Good. I’m going to take a look.”
She tips her chin up while I check her eyes and ears, remaining quiet until I step back. “So,” she continues when I go back to my laptop. “Are you dating again, or…”
She smells like something floral. It’s not unpleasant. Karen is a nice-looking woman. Brunette curls falling past her shoulders, big brown eyes, a nice smile. Maybe I would have been flattered by her interest if I hadn’t spent the majority of my life with the same person.
But there’s no place in my heart for someone else.
When I don’t respond, she forces a laugh. “Sorry. Probably not the best thing to ask my doctor.”
“It’s all right.” I pull the stethoscope from my ears, setting it to the side. She’s not the first person to ask. It seems like now that it’s been a year, I’m supposed to be ready to move on. “I’m not really focused on that right now.”
“Because of the kids?”
“Amongst other things.”
“I get that,” she says, nodding. “It took me two years before I even thought about it after my divorce. But now?”
I take a breath through my nose and reach for my pen. She’s not doing anything wrong. We’re both in our forties and single parents. I’d imagine finding a connection with kids is harder than without. I’m someone who understands.
Maybe we would even be good together.
I just can’t.
“Everything looks good,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile. “Blood pressure’s better than before. Have you been getting much exercise?”
“I’ve been trying to walk in the mornings.”
“Good. Keep doing that.”
“Thank you, Dr. Murphy,” she says, brushing past me as she climbs down from the table.
I don’t feel a thing.
I help her get checked out, since Will hasn’t quite gotten the hang of things, and when she leaves with a final glance down my body, I watch her go, missing my wife more than ever. Patients didn’t flirt with me when I wore a ring on my finger.
“Dude,” Will speaks up from behind me. “I think she might’ve been into you.”
I find him staring at me with an expression I can only describe as disgusted, horrified that someone might have found me attractive. Part of me is offended by that, but I’m not sure what she sees either.
“I know.” He waits for more, some reaction, I guess, but I don’t have one to give him. Instead, I turn and walk back to my office.
I don’t have the energy to explain that, yeah, she’s pretty. Maybe I would like her. But my heart is stuck on something that I don’t have words for yet.
I sit down at my desk, open my email, and don’t think about it.
My four o’clock canceled earlier in the day.
I should care. I need the money. Cancellations are doing nothing for the bills sitting on my kitchen table that haven’t been paid. But the waiting room is empty, and the kids are going to their grandparents this afternoon, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I have nowhere to be.
I lean back in my chair and think about what to do with that time.
I could go to the grocery store. Catch up on some work or clean the house. Take a nap, even.
All of those are great ideas.
But not what I want to do today.
I find Will at the front desk, his chin propped in his hand, staring at the computer screen, looking like his soul has left his body. He hears me coming and straightens up too late.
“Four o’clock canceled,” I say, leaning against the desk.
He perks up. “Does that mean we’re done?”
“We’re done. And I’ve been thinking about something.” He waits, doing his version of listening. “You hate this,” I say, nodding at the desk. “And I can’t keep pulling Victoria off the schedule. She needs this job.”
“True,” he agrees.
“I’ve been meaning to take a look around town, see about any job openings. We could do that now.”
“Like, walk around and ask people to hire me?”
“That’s generally how it works.”
He’s quiet, staring down at the desk. I can see him weighing his options. Spending the afternoon with me or going back to the empty motel room. Facing the world with someone he hates or spending another day in seclusion.
“I don’t have a resume or anything.”
“That’s okay. We don’t have to commit to anything today.” I push off the counter. “Go get your jacket.”
He narrows his eyes. “You know I’m not one of your kids, right?”
“Jacket, Will. I don’t have all day.” He mutters something under his breath, but he gets up.
Our first stop is the hardware store. Will doesn’t mind the idea, nodding when I point at the sign. “This place might not be so bad.”
Joe, the owner himself, is behind the counter when we walk in, a man in his sixties now, but still strong as ever from years of hard work. He looks up when the bell over the door rings, doing a double-take when he sees who I’ve brought with me.
“Nolan,” he says, setting down the lawn magazine he was flipping through.
“How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know.” He doesn’t finish that sentence, his eyes moving to Will behind me, taking in the store with genuine interest.
“Joe,” I say, pulling my gaze from him. “You mentioned a few months back you were looking to hire some help.”
The man frowns, confusion wrinkling his face, but I can see the exact moment he understands what I’m doing here. That I’m looking for a job for Will. And he’s not mean about it. He doesn’t scoff or turn us away, but I know the answer before he says anything.
“I appreciate you thinking of me, Nolan. I do.” He pulls his glasses off his forehead, setting them on the counter to meet my eyes. “You know how it is. I got people coming in here every day, families, and I can’t take on somebody like—”
“A criminal,” Will interrupts, his voice more stony than it was a few minutes ago. “You can say it.”
Joe has the decency to look apologetic. “I’m sorry, son. I really am.”
The bookshop is next.
I pop in here once in a while, when I have time to read, so not much lately. Donna has owned the place all my life, and she’s one of the nicest people in Rosehill. I can only hope her kindness extends to Will.
She comes out from between the bookshelves, smiling a bright smile when she sees me that doesn’t so much as flicker when she sees Will. “Will Davis,” she says, going right up to him, craning her head back far to see his face.
“Hey, Miss Donna,” he says, sounding shy as he scratches the back of his neck, not meeting her eyes.
“My goodness.” She looks him over from her short stature. “You look well, dear.”
“Um… thanks.”
She has a few girls from Rosehill High that help after school, and she’d love to have someone on full time, but her daughter manages that sort of thing these days, and she’s not sure she’d go for it.
“It’s all right,” Will says, and he doesn’t sound too angry this time. You never can be with Donna. “Thank you anyway.”
She touches his arm before we leave, and I think that surprises him, the way his eyes drop to her hand. That someone would dare show him any sort of affection. “Make sure you take care of yourself, boy. We care about you ‘round here. Would hate to see anything else happen to you.”
He nods while my throat goes tight at her words.
The new coffee shop in town won’t see us at all. The young woman at the front desk, someone I don’t recognize, takes one look at Will and tells us they aren’t hiring, even though there’s a sign in the window.