Page 6 of Come to Me

Patrick sipped his lemonade. He didn’t have an answer for Sheila beyond his life wasn’t conducive to romance. Not for any long term. He’d had a few short affairs, and a friend with occasional benefits, but that was it.

“Maybe he’s gay,” Mark said.

Patrick wondered what world he’d landed in where people speculated so openly about other’s love lives. He’d always had the impression that southerners, while friendly, weren’t overly sharing with strangers.

“Even gay people need love and romance.” Michaela studied him and he tried not to squirm. “I don’t get you Yankees, though. You work so hard, are always going and going, and for what?”

“Sydney is a Yankee,” Patrick pointed out.

“Who now lives here. Mitch’s sister married a Yankee too. He does most of his business from here. They had to come to the slow movin’ south to find love and happiness.” Michaela smiled in triumph as if she won the debate.

“Maybe you’ll find that too,” Sheila said. “There’s nothing like love and happiness.”

“You two are good role models for that,” Patrick nodded to the young couple. Then he turned his attention to Michaela. “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

“You looked, did you?” She gave him a coy smile that made him feel like a silly schoolboy.

He hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Only because you were talking the virtues of love in the south.”

The sliding door opened, and Michaela stood. “Hi dad, come meet our new guest. Dr. Patrick Andres.”

A middle-aged man with a cane slowly, but with a wide smile similar to his daughter’s, inched his way out on to the deck.

Patrick stood. “Mr. Kincaid, nice to meet you.”

“Dr. Andres, thank you for coming. And it’s Joe. I hope your cabin is suitable.” Joe shook Patrick’s hand.

“It’s very nice, thank you.”

“We were talking about love and romance, dad.”

Joe looked at his wife. “I wouldn’t have a life without it.”

The sweet way in which Joe and Lori looked at each other made Patrick wonder about the love that some people, like the Kincaid’s, or Sydney and Mitch found. Perhaps that was something he could research. He could write a book. Surely there’d be money in a book that helped people find their true love.

“We stocked some items in your fridge, Dr. Andres, but is there anything you need? Or why don’t you have dinner with us tonight? Mark and Sheila, you can join us as well,” Lori said.

“Thank you but we’ve got plans.” There was an amorous glint in their eyes that made Patrick think their plans had nothing to do with dinner.

“Ah, young love.” Joe sat in a chair near his wife. He put his arm around her. “Remember when we were like that?”

“It was ten minutes ago, honey.”

Michaela snorted. “Get a room.” She shook her head and then turned her attention to Patrick. “How about it, Patrick? Do you want to have dinner with us? It’s not fancy. No pate or caviar.”

“Mick.” Her mother chastised. “Don’t be rude. You’d be in a state if he said something about vittles and roadkill.”

“It’s true,” Michaela said. “We haven’t had roadkill in?—”

“Mick!”

She laughed. “We’re grilling chicken.”

His stomach growled reminding him that he hadn’t had lunch. “Actually, that sounds nice. I can pay if it’s extra?—”

“Pah,” Joe said. “It’s on us.”

After the snack, Patrick headed back to his cabin, to unpack, and rest before dinner. He texted Sydney to let her know he’d made it. She responded with a message to relax and enjoy. Patrick sat on the love-seat sized couch at a loss for what to do. He didn’t know the first thing about relaxing.

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