Page 86 of Coming Home

“I know that, but I don’t feel that.” It was her truth. Intellectually, she knew that Evan died as a result of an accident, but her feelings weren’t logical. In her heart, she still believed that if she hadn’t argued with her brother, Evan would still be here. That this sibling moment would be the three of them. Not just a triangle missing its vital side.

Clayton folded his arms around her. Nat melted into his embrace, allowing one brother to comfort her for the loss of the other.

“You know, Elle talks to someone every two weeks. It’s helped her to deal with a lot of things. I can ask her for their contact info.” He rubbed soothing circles across her back.

“That would be great,” she sniffled.

He pulled back and looked at her. “I’m so sorry we stopped talking about Evan. That I left you alone with this. I didn’t do my job as your big brother.” He cleared his throat. “I should have been there for you.”

“We should have been there for each other.”

“It’s not too late for us to do that now. To be there for each other and for Mom and Dad.”

“It’s not too late.” She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tight.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“It’s my dreadful temper! I try to cure it, I think I have and then it breaks out worse than ever.”~Louisa May Alcott,Little Women

Nat dipped her grilled cheese into the creamy homemade tomato soup. It was a drizzly mid-September day. The heat of summer had dulled with the cool breath of autumn. The meal was a perfect pairing for the first crisp day of approaching fall. Even better was the pairing with her lunch date for today, Noah. In the quiet confines of his back office at the brewery, they sat opposite each other, his walnut desk serving as their table.

In the last two weeks since she’d talked to Dad and Clayton, she and Noah found or, frankly, created stolen moments with each other. Today was Dad’s turn on the hospital rotation schedule, so Nat took his work/life balance advice to heart and snuck away for lunch with Noah. The brewery didn’t open until four. It was only noon, so staff wouldn’t arrive until three to prep for opening. It was just them in their little secret romance bubble.

“So good,” she groaned with pleasure, tilting her head back as she bit into the gooey Gruyere spilling over the sandwich’s edges.

An amused expression covered his face. “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of feeding you. You’re adorable when you eat my food.”

She pointed her half-eaten sandwich at him. “You think I’m adorable, period.”

“Very true.” He leaned over the desk and bit off a piece of her sandwich.

She gaped. It was both very sexy when he did that and also frustrating. How dare he eat the food he’d prepared for her? Although, the playful glint in his eyes dissolved any inclination to be annoyed with him. She could never be angry with this man.

He wiped his mouth. “The way you’re looking at me tells me you think I’m also adorable.”

“You are adorable. I’ve even told my therapist how adorbs you are.” She dunked the last bit of the sandwich into the remaining soup.

After the talk with Clayton, he’d texted Elle to get the name of her therapist. Dr. Horin was a psychologist located at Sloan-Whitney’s Manhattan Hospital but offered virtual appointments. Nat’s first session was last week, and her second session was scheduled for after work today. The first session had been tough but good. Elle had warned her that sometimes Nat would leave a session feeling wrung out like a dishrag, but she’d encouraged Nat to stick with it because a wet rag needed to be wrung from time to time to make it work.

“I’ve also told my therapist about how adorable you are.” Noah winked.

“Aren’t we just the enlightened, emotionally healthy couple talking about our therapy sessions over grilled cheese and soup.”

His lips kicked up into a smirk. “So, the application deadline is coming up for that grant. Have you spoken to your parents about it, yet?”

“Tomorrow. I asked them if we could have lunch at the house after the clinic closes.”

The clinic closed at noon on Friday to accommodate the schedule to be open on Saturdays. Most Fridays, Dad rounded at the hospital or spent it shadowing Clayton at the veterinarian clinic, but this Friday, he’d agreed to their lunch meeting instead. Dad had started going to Clayton’s clinic last year after the two had reinvented their relationship. It was one of the ways that Dad wanted Clayton to know how proud he was. It was just another reason she loved and looked up to her dad.

“You got this, baby,” he assured, picking up his bottled water.

Nat leaned back in the red Windsor chair. “Thanks. I’m really excited about this. So is Summer. I hope they go for it. Although, if they don’t, I think I may do it anyway. I mean, the clinic will be mine one day. I’d prefer to do this with their support, but if they’re not on board, I’m going to submit the proposal either way.”

“Do you think they’d not get on board?” He scooped up their empty paper plates and bowls to toss into the bin beside the desk.

She unwrapped a moist towelette, then cleaned her hands. “Not anymore. I think Dad will be on board. Mom may get a little fussy that I didn’t bring her in before I pulled together the application, but I want her to see that I can handle both the clinical and administrative side of the clinic. At the end of the day, I know they’ll be supportive because this is what’s best for our patients.”

The self-doubts that had nipped at her after first coming home had dissolved over the last few weeks. No longer was she trying to be Dr. Owens. She was Dr. Owens. Her version of it.

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