Page 63 of You Were Invited
Luck found him that week, and he finally bought a pair of skis. When he drove into town for a doctor’s appointment, heswung by and picked them up. However, by the time he arrived at the clinic, he wanted a nap– one-handed driving was utterly miserable.
Dee was on nursing duty. When she retrieved him to go to the back room for his appointment, her face lit up with a joy that complimented the purple unicorn motif on her scrubs. He gave a smile, but was glad that she wasn’t super chatty beyond her patient intake duties. After the doctor arrived and snipped out the stitches, he didn’t linger long, but gave Julian a basic forecast.
“Just keep a stress ball around for a little P.T. Practice writing. Knitting. Sketching. Yo-Yo. Anything to get your nerves firing and to keep your tendons loose. You’ll likely never get full use again, but anything you do in the next six months to a year will determine how much you get back.”
Julian nodded.I assumed as much.He’d already done some physical therapy by himself. He couldn’t touch his fingertips to his palm, but he could hook his hand into an “O” shape. The doctor told him unless he wanted another follow up, more visits weren’t necessary and that he was good to go for the day.
Julian walked into the hallway. Dee was leaving another patient’s room. She grinned again and gave a little wave as he walked towards the exit. She pulled a little white paper from her pants pocket and offered it to him as he walked by her.
“Here... if you’re interested.” Dee blushed, but looked glowing as she pushed through her shyness. He vaguely remembered that in school she’d been a wallflower, a girl of few words.
“Thanks.” He smiled politely and opened the paper. It was a phone number. “This yours?”
Dee nodded.
“Nice...” He sighed, then rethought the gesture, unfortunately unenthused by Dee’s interest. “I mean... no. I can’t take this, Dee.”
She deflated. “Oh.” She tucked in her bottom lip.
He handed the paper back and held up his hand. “Honest, I’m flattered. But...”
“I’m embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Julian offered a kind smile.I can acknowledge Annie’s decision to not date me, but that doesn’t stop me from missing her.Who was he fooling? He was desperately hoping she’d change her mind. Although he was free to do so, he knew he couldn’t in good faith take Dee’s number. Until that part of him healed and moved on from Annie, he’d never be able to give Dee his heart. “It’s just that there’s... a someone.”
“Oh.” Dee tilted her head and smiled softly. “The girl who brought you here last time?”
“You remember?”
Dee smiled brighter. “Of course! She looked so worried. I didn’t mistake her for your girlfriend for no reason.”
Julian’s heart twisted. He smiled back wordlessly.
After the doctor’s visit, he met for an hour with Ellie and several prominent city leaders. The last thing he wanted was to be around a bunch of folks, but he’d promised Ellie. She had big plans for the upcoming anniversary of the diner. She wanted to do a spruce up, a light remodel. He kept talk to a minimum, but volunteered for some handy work. Looking around the room at the oldsters, he knew if he didn’t volunteer, Ellie would be in need of expensive contract work. She’d also made arrangements to shoot a commercial, and she’d insisted Julian join in. He was less than thrilled, but for Ellie he’d do almost anything.
“I’m not going to put a helluva effort into a big ol’ celebration,” she said, “andnotlet the wider public know we’re turning eighty.”
After the meeting, he stopped by the post office. Amongst the junk mail, once again, was a letter from Clive.
He shook his head and held it over the trashcan. But something told him to read it first.
When he got home, he opened his mail, saving the letter for last. He unfolded it. It was much shorter than usual.
Dear Son,
I’m gettin’ out early. The parole board scheduled my release for...
Julian swayed. Was Clive getting out on good behavior? He couldn’t think of any other reason a parole board would let someone out several years early.
He made himself read the end date of his father’s stay in prison. It was barely two months from now.
“Motherfucker!” Seething, he crumpled up the letter, threw it on the ground, grinding his heel over the paper.
Unbelievable. Fucking goddamn. Fucker!
