Page 4 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
Yeah. He asked. And I almost lose my bologna on the July issue ofCat Fancy.
Sure, I’d planned to talk to Natalie at some point. I want to clear the air about the last time we were together. But an hour-long ride from Albany to Abieville? Just the two of us? Idefinitelydon’t want that. But that isn’t what I say to Beau.
What I say is, “I’ll pick her up. Of course.” For the record, I don’t sound sure. I sound like I’m being strangled by Oscar Meyer cold cuts.
“Thanks, Brady. You’re the best, man.” Beau barks out a laugh. “Hey! You reallyare the best man.”
“Heh.” My chest is tight. “I guess I am.”
“Listen. I know this is a lot to ask. Taking time off work. Making airport runs.”
“Don’t forget the Hawaiian shirts you’re making us wear for the bachelor party.”
When Beau chuckles, the tightness in my chest begins to loosen. I like being the friend he counts on most. He’s been that for me since he moved to Abieville. I’d do anything for the guy. No matter how hard.
“Don’t blame me for those shirts,” he protests. “They were your sister’s idea. But I’ll return the favor someday when it’s your turn.”
“My turn?”
“To get hitched.”
And now my guts clench again. Between my day job at the clinic and nights spent trying to write, I don’t have time to date. Then there’s the part where I can’t stop thinking about Natalie. But I don’t tell Beau about any of this. I don’t tell anyone.
“You still there, man?” he asks.
Before I can respond, the door to the back of the clinic opens and shuts. The Swansons must be returning. Their place is a large, single-story duplex spread across a sprawling double lot. Half is set up as their business. The other half’s their home. The shared space allows Doc Swanson to check in on the animals anytime, day or night. It’s one of the reasons he’s the most trusted vet in the Adirondacks. And he’s counting on me to take over when he retires.
Big shoes to fill.
“Hey, I gotta go,” I tell Beau. “Text me the flight info, so I can get Natalie.” I choke out that last part. Her name. Three syllables never felt so hard.
“Great. I’ll text Nat too, to let her know you’re coming. And Brady? Thanks a lot, man.”
“No problem.” I clear my throat. “That’s what friends are for.”
“Brady?” Dr. Swanson calls out. As he enters the lobby, I shove my writing notebook under a copy ofGolf Digest.The man’s hair isn’t much more than a few white wisps, but his blue eyes twinkle like he’s still in high school. “Wendy thanks you for holding down the fort while we had lunch.” He pats his not-insubstantial belly.
“LuLu’s still resting comfortably,” I say. “Willa and Gator too.” Willa’s a spaniel and Gator’s a basset hound. We’re boarding them while their families are on vacation.
“Thanks, Brady. I’ll take it from here.” As Doc Swanson heads to the office, I scroll through my texts until I find my last thread with Natalie. Our most recent messages are six months old.
ME: Hey.
I’ll admit this wasn’t my best opening ever.
NAT: I’m sorry … Who is this?
ME: Ha ha ha. How’s the internship going?
NAT: Besides plentiful bodily fluids and overnight shifts at the hospital? Awesome. *Sarcasm font* I’m just glad this is my last semester. How’s the clinic?
ME: Also awesome. Also plentiful bodily fluids. Also sarcasm.
NAT: On that note, I’ve got a rotation starting in fifteen. What’s up?
ME: I think we should set up some ground rules before we see each other again.
NAT: Don’t worry. You aren’t that irresistible.
