Page 52 of Fluke
“I haven’t seen him since his wedding. He’s in Atlanta now, working some medical wizardry with spleens or something. I don’t know. It is what it is.”
He leans across the counter from me, his hands folded in front of him. His forehead is wrinkled as he takes me in.
I generally hate talking about my family because people don’t understand. While I don’t care what people think, it gets awkward trying to explain our familial interactions—or lack thereof. I always find myself in defense mode, shrugging off pity.
There are no vibes like that here. Just a genuine curiosity and concern that’s relieving.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. You’re just so … nonchalant about it.”
“About what?”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “You haven’t seen your only brother in years.”
I shrug and sit on one of the stools.
“Do you see your parents?” he asks.
“Oh, I just talked to my mom on the way over here. She was so excited to tell me that she found me a new job.”
Jess flinches. “A new job?”
“Don’t worry. We’re still going on our trip. Because, despite what my mother thinks, I love my job and think it’s more than a glorified hobby and have zero intentions of quitting.”
“Your mom thinks your job is a hobby?”
“We all aren’t from families like yours, pal,” I say, winking at him. “In our family, once you’re eighteen, you either follow the path laid out for you or figure out things independently. I didn’t choose their way, so I could become the richest woman on the planet, and it wouldn’t be good enough.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“There’s nothingto say, Jess. It’s life. It’s just my life. And, honestly, I chose this. I knew what would happen if I bailed on being a doctor. It was never a secret.” I sigh. “Did I hope that my mom and dad would have a change of heart? Sure. Did it sting for a while? Of course. But I’m almost thirty. Their presence in my life would come with a venom that there’s no antidote for, so I accept it for what it is and am grateful that I’m in such a good place.”
Because that wasn’t always the case.
He moves around the counter and holds out a hand. I don’t hesitate to lay my palm in his. His skin is warm, his fist solid as he wraps his fingers around mine. Gently, he helps me off the stool.
“I’m happy to let you know that I’m sure my mother will be thrilled to be your stand-in fake ex-mother-in-law for the next week,” he says, grinning. “So prepare yourself for that.”
I gasp. “Did you already tell them what’s going on?”
He laughs. “Look, it was either me tell them what’s happening or bring you over today and have Mom make a lot ofvery seriousassumptions.”
I laugh too.
“For the record,” he says, squeezing my hand, “they think this is funny.”
“They don’t think it’s … odd?”
“Pippa,they have six kids. Five sons who are a bit of a handful from time to time, and a daughter who hooked up with her boss and is now helping raise his son. My parents are prepared for anything, I assure you. Nothing shocks them anymore.”
I look into his eyes as warmth floods my veins. I’m not self-conscious after talking about my background and, surprisingly, I’m not nervous about meeting his family for dinner.
Why? I don’t trust easily … thank you, Mom and Dad.But why am I so calm right now?
Because this is Jess. Because I trust Jess.
He presses his lips together. “You know, about that email …”
