Page 17 of This Is Why

LEXI

When I tellGabe he’s going to play at Carmichael Farms, he’s so excited he jumps up and down. “I can just go home in their car, right?” Gabe has never been one to wait around or delay gratification. As soon as he knows something good is happening, he’s ready to get started.

I let out a long sigh. You’d think I’d be used to telling him no by now, but I still feel bad every single time. “I still have to change my clothes and clean up,” I say. “You and I will go home so I can get ready and then we’ll meet back at the Farm…” I look at the time on my phone and grimace. “It’s already five o’clock. By the time we get cleaned up and ready to go, it’ll be too late for dinner, won’t it?” I turn to Ty. “Maybe a rain check?”

I can’t tell if the idea of skipping dinner with him excites me or disappoints me more but judging by the collective groan coming from everyone else around me, I’m the only one who thinks postponing might be a goodidea.

“No way.” Tyler unleashes his undeniably contagious smile. “You aren’t getting out of this that easily.” He turns to David. “Are you guys opposed to taking Gabe with you now? There are plenty of restaurants here at The Commons. Lexi and I can choose a place to eat without having to go through all the rigmarole of changing clothes and cars and all that.” He turns to me. “We’re already here. Why leave?”

Note to self. When Ty gets an idea in his head, there’s no talking him out of it. Under normal circumstances, it’s a trait I would respect but that doesn’t keep me from protesting anyway. And really, knowing what I know about my son, maybe I should have known to expect the same thing fromTy.

“Are you sure you want to be seen with me like this?” I hold out my hands and look down at my shorts and tank top. “Most of the restaurants around here are a little more on the swankyside.”

His gaze travels across my face. “You look perfect tome.”

David rolls his eyes and laughs while Michelle clutches my arm and swoons. Before I know what’s happening, Gabe is leaving with the Carmichaels and I’ll pick him up when I drop Ty off after dinner.

“You’re something else,” I say, just as the band starts into a newsong.

He wraps his arm around my shoulder and leans in close so I can hear him over the din. “That, my friend, isyou.”

I steel myself for a battle regarding where we’re going to eat, but Ty points to my favorite restaurant and I acquiesce immediately because the thought of the chicken fajita dinner at Don Juan’s has my mouth watering. Some of the restaurants at The Commons are a little fancy and I’d be on the wrong side of underdressed in my jean shorts, tank top, and ponytail, but Don Juan’s is casual enough that I won’t be out of place.

He leads me away from the music and into the restaurant. I don’t even bother to look at the menu, and Tyler snaps the thing closed after just a second or two of reading the contents. We place our identical orders—chicken fajitas and margaritas. “Copycat,” I say once the waitress leaves.

“How can I be the copycat when you’re the one who ordered my favorite things?” Tyler shakes his head like I missed something obvious, his eyes twinkling with humor.

I smile at him. “Alright then, Mr. Always Right, how can I be the copycat when I’m the one who ordered first?”

“You’re the one who pulled it off, so shouldn’t I be asking you that question? I mean, that’s some seriously spooky shit.” He grins and I laugh and maybe, just maybe, spending the evening with him won’t be a terrible thing afterall.

The server arrives with our drinks and I pick a piece of salt off the rim and pop it in my mouth before sipping at the straw. Tyler watches me, a secret smile playing across his face. I almost ask him what he’s thinking about, but I’m afraid I won’t be comfortable with the answer so I let itgo.

“Why nursing?” he asks after taking a long drink of his own margarita.

“That’s a big question.” I sit back in my brightly colored chair and bob my head to the mariachi music coming in over the speakers.

“Is it? It seemed like a safe enough place to start tome.”

“Maybe it is with most people. But with me, explaining why I chose nursing feels like explaining a deep part of who I am inside.”

Ty rubs his hands together. “Even better. The more information I can get about you, the happier I’m going to be. So tell me, and don’t skip even a single detail, why nursing?”

It shouldn’t feel this good to have his focus so completely set on me, but I could bask in the glow of his attention all night. “I chose nursing because I wanted a job that makes a difference. Wanted a skill that could translate into my everyday life. Because I wanted to take care of people and help bring them through the hard times and into better times.”

“Why stop at nursing? Why not go all the way to doctor?”

“That’s a good question and it took me a long time to be able to answer it, myself.” I sigh. “There were a lot of factors. The long hours. The long schooling and the cost of said long schooling. Those definitely had a lot to do with my decision to choose nursing instead of going for my MD. But, it seems to me that being a doctor lacks interpersonal connection. A doctor stares at charts and lab results and prescribes medicine and makes a diagnosis based off what the chart says. And there’s great value in that, right? I’m not knocking doctors. Not at all. But as a nurse, I’m in the room, caring for the patient, not his symptoms and I know that maybe, a post-op patient needs to be propped up differently in his bed to alleviate a severe bout of pain. So, I fluff up some pillows, adjust the bed, hit the guy with a kind word and a smile and he feels better. A doctor would hear that he has pain and prescribe a painkiller. Both approaches work. I just feel more comfortable looking at the patient instead of his chart.” I pause. “I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

“It makes tons of sense and I respect you for it.” Ty smiles that ten-thousand-watt smile at me and I lose all sense of anything. Thank goodness our waitress arrives with our meals and nothing needs to be said over the fajitas as they hiss and pop on their skillets.

“My mouth started watering the minute she walked out of the kitchen with these bad boys,” I say as I arrange my plates so they’re evenly spaced around my half of the table.

“If they taste half as good as they smell, then this will be one of the best dinners I’ve had in a long time.” Ty scoops meat and veggies onto a tortilla and adds healthy dollops of guacamole, beans, lettuce, and sour cream before rolling it all up into a burrito that barely fits in hisfist.

I make a slightly less aggressively-sized burrito—but only slightly, mind you. These things are good—and I moan as I take a bite. “I think I could eat these every day of the week and never get tired ofthem.”

Ty smiles as he chews. “I think I could watch you eat these every day of the week and never get tired ofit.”

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