Page 69 of Doctorshipped
“In St. Louis, yes. But here, they keep having pets all the way through sixth grade! Isn’t that just the best?”
“It’s the best. We’re beyond lucky.”
22
JAYME
I’ve only seen Fiona and Grant once since Sunday when I dropped Fiona off after paint night. I had a tutoring session with her Tuesday, but otherwise, I’ve been packing my stuff for the move, and keeping myself busy doing last minute tasks for Shannon’s wedding. It’s weird how much I miss Grant and Fiona after only two days apart.
The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow night and the ceremony is Saturday. Since the wedding’s at a lakeside location Shannon found in a small town a half-hour from here, I’m spending the night visiting my parents. If I go more than three months without a visit, they say something. It’s never harsh—more like an IV drip of guilt.
I’m pulling into the driveway of the one-story brick home where I grew up, and my phone pings with a text.
Grant:Did you make it to Columbus safely?
Jayme:Yes. Just pulled into my parents’ driveway.
Grant:Good.
Why did he text me? I’m going to start calling him conundrum man. He’s too much of a puzzle for me to even start to solve.
Jayme:Did you want anything in particular?
Grant:Just making sure Fiona’s tutor is going to live to see her through sixth grade.
I smile. There’s the grump I know.
Jayme:Very conscientious of you.
I can almost hear him humph or grumble. What is wrong with me? I’m starting to channel his grumpy noises.
Grant:You know me.
Jayme:That I do.
There’s a long pause, during which I assume our text conversation is over. It’s not like Grant to be chatty in real life, I am not going to assume he’ll keep texting me after he’s ascertained my safety status—or whatever he really texted me for.
Grant:What do you know about guinea pigs?
Jayme:That’s quite a line, Dr Peppers. I bet you use it on all the girls.
Grant: …
The three dots show and disappear. I picture his disgruntled face, trying to respond to my teasing text. It’s far too fun to rile him up.
My mom steps onto the porch and waves. I wave back and hold up my pointer finger, and then point down at the phone. She nods and goes back into the house.
Grant:Not a line. Believe me. If I were using a line, you’d know it. Fiona and I are the proud caregivers of the class guinea pig. What are these people thinking, sending animals home with children?
My smile could be used to light dark alleyways right now. Did Grant honestly just joke back? And what does he mean if he were using a line I’d know it? A sudden montage of images where Grant tries to come on to me flashes across my mind. And he’s good at it—really good. I never thought of him in this light, at least not as clearly as I am right now. I always saw him as this grumpy doctor who is a basic pain in the tush—his only redeeming qualities being that he’s a good dad and doctor.
Take all that intensity and his capacity to open up and care when he really loves someone, and focus it on pursuing a woman—a woman he truly wanted to pursue—and whew, I might need to sit on a block of ice to cool off from what I’m imagining.
I realize I’ve been staring at my phone, Grant’s last message stares back at me.
Jayme:I’m pretty sure Fiona has been given the details about whatever is needed for the guinea pig. I’m here in the outskirts of Columbus about to enter the time-warp that is my parents’ home, otherwise, I’d come over and snuggle that little critter and help you sprinkle cedar chips, fill the water bottle, and give lettuce. It’s pretty hard to mess up guinea pig care. Especially for one weekend. I’m staying here and then meeting Shannon and the girls in Camden for the rehearsal tomorrow.
Grant:And we have that wedding.
