Page 11 of New River Gorge(ous)
“Drive safe?” I ask, in twin.
“Of course,” he says back.
I swallow a lump in my throat. I have to say something about Melanie, about how he shouldn’t move too fast with her, but just as I open my mouth to warn him, an old, white, scuffed-up Toyota pickup truck barrels up the driveway, blaring loud music.
Dr. Beckett Whistler—again.
The windows are rolled down, and I catch a glimpse of his face. He looks haggard, sleep-deprived. He parks in the adjoining driveway and climbs out of his truck, turning to face us with his arms crossed over his chest.
Matt waves at him, but Dr. Beckett Whistler scowls.
Matt looks at me and grins. “That guy”—he tips his head toward the doctor—“is the one for you.”
I roll my eyes up to heaven and back. “Matt, just because you found someone doesn’t mean I ever will.”
“Hey.” He tips my chin up so I’m looking at him. “You are the biggest pain I know, and you need someone who is an equal level of obnoxious for you. That guy”—he jerks his thumb over his shoulder—“he’s got it.”
“Whatever, Mattie.”
He opens his arms, and I step into his hug. We joke and tease and are often physical with our antics, but the truth is, we need each other. We’re twins, and it’s hard when we’re apart. A lot of people don’t understand it because they don’t have a twin, but Matt is a piece of me.
Tears beckon when I straighten.
Matt smirks before climbing into the driver’s seat. “Go make friends. I’ve got a good feeling about him.” He shoots a finger gun directly at Dr. Beckett Whistler before putting the truck in reverse.
I stand there after Matt leaves, watching Dr. Whistler stare at his retreating blue truck with a frown.
Matt couldn’t be more wrong.
Meemaw
Nothing could be more frustrating to the septuagenarian of 6363 Mountain Hideaway Road than a lack of freedom. And nothing could stop her from accessing the emergency chocolate chip cookie ingredients stashed in the cabinet on top of her refrigerator. Chocolate chip cookiesmustbe made, and they must be made now.
Never mind the granddaughter sleeping in the spare room. Never mind that it’s two a.m., and never mind that, at her four-foot-eleven height, she cannot reach the cabinet without standing on something.
She uses the knee scooter her neighbor brought over after rescuing her from the prison of the rehab center to line up with the edge of the fridge.
Shrewd eyes size up the opponent. A lesser woman would be deterred, but not June MacCord. She is hard-working, and her brain is filled with ingenuity.
After a moment’s consideration, she knows what to do. She swings her lithe body sideways, gripping the edge of the fridge,and places both knees on the scooter seat. Using her bony fingers and the crack of the fridge seal, she pulls herself up to standing on her good foot.
Her eyes peer over the top of the fridge. It’s dusty in that space between the appliance and the cabinet, but even dust can’t deter her from her mission. She arches her body closer, shifting to her tiptoes.
Her fingers find purchase on the cabinet knobs, and she swings the door open. The movement jars the scooter away. It’s enough to cause her to lose her balance. Her hands grasp the bag of flour, the bag of white sugar, the brown sugar, as she scrambles for something to stabilize her. It’s not enough. Her fingers close on a bag of chocolate chips as the scooter rolls farther away, and June MacCord falls backward.
In the chaos that ensues, chocolate chips scatter all over the kitchen floor, and June lets loose a string of swear words that would make a sailor blush.
Her granddaughter, wearing hot-pink pajamas, hears the crash and comes running.
June lies on the floor, conscious but in pain.
With nothing else to be done for June, the granddaughter calls 9-1-1.
6
Dr. Beckett Whistler
It’s been the world’s longest shift in the E.R. Car accidents, stitches, a broken leg, and a case of norovirus with severe dehydration have kept all of us at the small regional hospital busy. My shift begins at 6 p.m. and ends at 6 a.m. It’s 2:30 in the morning, and I am just now eating my lunch.
