Page 82 of Just (Fake) Married
“What are you-”
“Just a sec,” he said, and I couldn’t see anything because the breadth of his shoulders was blocking me. It was worth asking how a surgeon got shoulders like those, I mean not out loud. But to myself I had to ask…how did he get shoulders like that? “And…there we go.”
In one smooth move he stood up and stepped back, and Bruce, in an outrage of feathers and honking, charged around the corner away from him. Jenny, bewildered, followed and got lost near the door. She stood there and barked at nothing while Bruce tore up and down the aisles one wing flapping, the other…wrapped in some kind of stretchy tape.
“What is that?” I asked, waiting for her to calm down.
“Well, a kid came into the walk-in today with a finger sprain and Dr. Blackfeather created a buddy splint out of tape and I thought it might work for Bruce. If I could kind of create a splint and hold the wing to Bruce’s body so it doesn’t drag for her.”
I watched Bruce finally settle down and come waddling over to me. She pecked at my knee and rubbed her face against my thigh.
“I think it worked,” Ethan said, pulling things out of the other bag. “I think her body was sore from carrying around that dead wing and this will at least provide some stability and relief.”
“Hey,” I whispered to Bruce, and stroked her soft head with my finger. Something she only let me do on the rare occasion.When I fed her the good alfalfa sprouts. When she was happy. “That feel better?” I whispered, my throat clogged with tears.
She waddled over to Jenny, honked once, pulling the blind dog’s attention from the door where she was still barking and led her back to their beds behind the counter. Ethan stayed out of their way until they settled. Then he looked up at me with a big smile.
Something weird happened in my body. Like everything expanded for a second. My heart. My lungs. My eyes. I shook my head, but I felt…different.
“You fixed my goose,” I said.
“I hardly fixed her. I just…helped her.”
He was being modest. Because he did something no one had done for me in a very long time. Taken care of something I cared about. Which felt, in this quiet moment, like he’d taken care of me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“My pleasure,” he said.
I took a few deep breaths and kept myself busy with the food until I wasn’t so emotional.
“So? You were at the clinic? All day?”
He sat down on my stool behind the counter “Most of it,” he said. “It was walk-in day, she apparently has it once a week. I couldn’t technically see patients, but I could help out where needed.”
I nodded.
“It was packed,” he said. “And it’s just her, one pediatrician, and a nurse for a twelve-hour shift. That’s crazy.”
“The clinic has had to drastically reduce hours. Basically, it only opens when they can staff it.”
“Yeah,” he said, pulling open the tinfoil wrapped around both grilled cheese sandwiches. Looking at them, I could see one ofthem was deluxe, with two kinds of cheese and the good sour dough bread.
The other was extremely sad by comparison. Two heels of a loaf of white bread and what looked like blue cheese in the middle?
“Did you order that?” I asked, wondering if this was a special order.
“Amity said to trust her,” he said, sounding so disappointed my heart broke for him.
Then we both looked at each other and laughed until we cried.
Ethan caught his breath first. “I think she might be enacting her revenge on Mac vicariously through me.” He shrugged and reached for the sad sandwich.
“No!” I cried. “I can’t let you eat that. We can share this one.” I pulled apart the good sandwich and put half on his tinfoil.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” I said, and we smiled at each other until I coughed awkwardly and broke eye contact.
