by Iris Trovao
“Your old coworkers from the ER?”
He nodded. “They were supportive. I don’t know what I expected when they found out about Gina and I splitting, but none of them seemed…scandalized, I guess.” He rubbed his palms down the front of his slacks. “Patricia seemed to read between the lines, and told me she’s always around to talk, with that knowing look she has, you know? But it’s been good spending time with the nurses. Listening to them complain about work reminds me why I wanted a calmer job.”
“And the family practice is still going well?”
“It took some adjusting,” he admitted. “I was so used to things being fast-paced…and now only working three days a week during the day, with minor ailments and checkups…it’s nice.” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “I got an email last week about applications opening for one day a week rotating shifts at the hospital for us family doctors to help out.”
Emilia scrawled across her notepad again. “Do you think you’re ready for that?”
“Oh, not in the slightest,” he admitted with a laugh. “Just reading the email raised my blood pressure. I think if they were extremely strapped for help I would cover someone in a pinch…but I don’t think I could go back to that environment regularly. I’ve realized how much it was taking out of me now that I’m able to relax and focus on my life and family.”
“Okay, we’ve only got a few more minutes, but I wanted to ask you about Jane,” she said slowly.
Heat crept up his cheeks at the mention of her name. Part of him was glad that he’d confided in Emilia about Jane a few weeks back, but part of him was still embarrassed. It was hard to let go of the residual guilt for engaging with this woman while he was married, despite his and Gina’s problems.
“Ask about what?” The words came out a touch hoarse, and he cleared his throat, offering a nervous smile.
Emilia returned it with her own calm warmth. “Nothing in particular,” she replied breezily, scribbling some notes on her pad. “Just when I mention her, your reaction is always the same.”
His eyes widened, and he fought to keep his expression level. “Reaction?” He rubbed his sweaty palms down the tops of his thighs again, avoiding her gaze.
A touch of a smirk crossed her features as she pointed at him with her pen, rotating it in a circle. “Yes, all of this. Just making a note of it.”
On his way out the front door of the small family practice, Carson nearly barrelled into a short man carrying an armful of flowers.
“Oh gosh, apologies,” he blurted, managing to steady the man before he pitched over onto the snow-covered sidewalk.
“S’all good man. Are you lockin’ up? I’m supposed to deliver these here,” the man said, attempting to twist his body to see around the large arrangement.
“It’s over here.” Carson flipped up the little card on the side facing him and smiled. “And these are for me.” He recognized Rose’s chicken scratch immediately.
Happy birthday to the best Dad ever! Love Rose and Lil, and Thad said not to put his name on the card but he drove us to the flower shop so I’m putting it anyway.
He couldn’t help but smile. Things were never going to be one hundred percent comfortable between him and Gina and Thad, but it was comforting to know that they were supportive of his daughters’ continued relationship with their father.
“You want me to bring ‘em in for you?” the man asked, attempting to duck under a sprig of baby’s breath to look at him.
Carson shook his head. “No, that’s fine, I’ve got them, thank you.” He hefted the pot into his arm and hit a button on his key fob, sending the trunk hatch of his SUV rising open.
“Have a great day, man.” The guy waved and scurried off to his van, rubbing his hands together against the cold.
Carson shook his head and took a deep sniff of the lilies before nestling the pot in between a full bottle of windshield washer fluid and his briefcase, hoping that would keep it steady enough for the drive home. He didn’t have far to go, with his new place only a twenty minute drive away.
He got into the driver’s seat and pulled out his phone, flipping over to his group chat with the girls.
Thank you for the flowers, my loves, he typed out. Brightened your old man’s day. He wouldn’t be seeing them until tomorrow around lunchtime, and he was excited to pick up a bunch of their favourite finger foods and have an afternoon feast.
When he pulled into the driveway of his townhouse, his phone buzzed, and he picked it up as he waited for the garage door to open.
Jane: My living room is in shambles. Why did I get a cat again?
He laughed. You didn’t get a cat, he sent back, you got a kitten. Kittens are demons.
He balanced his phone on his thigh and pulled into the garage, hitting the button to close the door behind him.
Jane: You ain’t wrong. Little shit is lucky he’s so cute.
The goofy grin that exploded on his face every time he talked to her was in full force, and he shook his head. I imagine that’s an evolutionary tactic.
He headed inside, dropping his keys and briefcase on the kitchen island before setting the flowers on the counter near the window for morning light.
He made his way to the living room to get a fire going, stopping short when he realized the fire was already blazing and a giant cake sat on the coffee table.
Two familiar voices squealed, “Happy birthday!”
Carson thought his heart might burst as both of his daughters tackled him.
Later, Carson sprawled on the couch with a belly full of cake and a chest full of warmth.
Lily and Rose were in their own sugar comas on an air mattress on the floor, having opted to camp out in the living room instead of their part-time bedrooms upstairs. Despite their normal sibling spats, he was happy they were close enough that they were able to do things like slumber parties together with their old man.
The dying embers of the fire cast an orange glow around the cozy room, and he turned down the brightness on his phone to the lowest setting so he wouldn't disturb the sleeping princesses.
Jane: Get up to anything crazy on your last night of the work week?
He hesitated. They hadn’t shared their birthdays as of yet. He didn’t want to appear like he was digging for well-wishes or anything. But he also didn’t want to lie.
Very crazy, he sent back, ate a bunch of cake with my kiddos.
Jane: Oooo is it somebody’s birthday?
He took a deep breath. It’s mine, actually.
Jane: OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Jane: Why didn’t you tell me beforehand? I would have sent you a pic of a fancy cake lol
He drew his bottom lip between his teeth. They’d never shared pictures before. The occasional meme or screenshot of a joke from the internet somewhere, but never photos. When’s your birthday? He hit send.
Jane: Jan 3, too close to New Years to ever have my own party haha. I guess you run into that being so close to Christmas, huh?
He shook his head. I can’t remember the last time I had a birthday party to be honest, he sent back. My daughters surprising me with a slumber party and cake tonight is the closest I’ve had to one in ages.
Jane: Aw. That’s so sweet. They sound awesome.
He smiled, glancing over at the two slumbering girls sprawled out on the mattress. They’re wonderful, he sent back.
Jane: Well at least we didn’t miss each other’s birthdays since we met lol you gonna get me something pretty?
Before an image of the dream version of Jane could float through his mind dressed in something pretty, Carson rolled off of the couch and left the living room. He padded quietly to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water.
It was too late. She was there, clad in red lace, and he didn’t know what to say to her. They’d been doing this dance for so long now. They were friends. He kept telling himself that they were friends, that she was so much younger than him, that they’d both suffered hardship and it wasn’t appropriate t
o be romantically interested in her.
But here he was. It wasn’t something he could control.
His phone lit up on the counter as the water started to boil.
Jane: What about you, doc? What do you want for your birthday?
“So many things,” he murmured, and took a deep breath as he picked up the device. He chewed his lip again, bucking up his courage. To know your name, he typed out, and hit send before he could talk himself out of it.
Icy tendrils coiled around his spine, fear shooting through his body. He set his phone down on the counter and leaned against it, closing his eyes. Butterflies flickered in his stomach and he felt like a teenager again, hoping that a girl he had a crush on would smile at him.
Stupid, he berated himself. This was ridiculous. It hadn’t even been a year since this poor woman had buried her husband. No matter how strained the relationship had been, he had no right to hope that she would return his… He groaned, not even wanting to finish the train of thought, put a label on the swell in his chest.
He cracked open an eye, and his screen lit up.
Jane: Hi. I’m Jolie.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jolie’s heart leapt into her throat. He wanted to know her name. My name!
It felt like such a huge thing, yet in the grand scheme it was so small. They’d known each other almost a year and hadn’t even revealed their names yet. After everything they’d both been through… She’d fought her attraction to him for so long, focusing on herself and trying to function in the world and feel good about who she was.
And here she was, living on her own, working, taking care of her own life and of her own body—for the most part, the occasional cigarette was something she hadn’t quite been able to kick—and she felt like the only thing left she yearned for was connection with this man.
At least a closer connection than letters on a phone screen.
And here, now, she hadn’t even had to take the first step into bringing them closer. He wanted to know her name. Asked it of her, as a birthday present.
Hi, she typed, I’m Jolie.
She hit send and her blood pulsed in her ears. She flopped over in her bed, burying her face under the covers and squealing into her pillow.
She was afraid to hope. Afraid to dream. Her overactive imagination wasn’t, however, and so much was out of control. Was this as big of a step for him as for her? Or did he just want to know because they were friends and he was sick of whatever stupid nickname he’d given her contact on his phone?
I can’t overthink this, she thought as she burritoed herself completely in her blanket. I’m just setting myself up for disappointment if I do.
Her phone buzzed and she disentangled it from her sheets.
Dr. Tweedledick: Hi Jolie, I’m Carson.
“Carson,” she whispered into the darkness of her bedroom, the name feeling somehow alien and familiar at the same time. She flipped over to her contacts and adjusted his name. It was weird but right, and she smiled.
Doctor Carson, she sent back, got a nice ring to it.
Her mind went into overdrive, as if putting a name to her imaginary vision of him solidified it somehow. It was a strong name, manly.
Dr. Carson: Yours too. I’ve been calling you Jane all this time, at least it still starts with the same letter.
She laughed. “Oh, you so don’t even want to know what I’ve been calling you, doc,” she sang to herself. Like Jane Doe? So scientific lol, she sent back.
Dr. Carson: Well, we established a long time ago that I am a nerd.
She smirked at the screen. And a dork, she sent back. Don’t forget dork.
Dr. Carson: Oh of course, musn’t forget dork.
Never! In fact, that’s what I was calling you, Doctor Dorky McNerdface.
Dr. Carson: I take it back, then, forget Carson I like that name better.
Jolie thought that her cheeks might split apart from grinning stupidly for so long. Her stomach fluttered, and she suddenly wanted more. She wanted to know what his voice sounded like, what his eyes looked like when he smiled, what physical tics he had when he was nervous. She wanted to know whether or not he wore glasses, if his lips were as soft as she’d imagined them, whether his fingertips would be calloused as they danced over her—
She groaned into her pillow again. “Stupid, stupid!” she cried into the polyester filling.
This was torture. She didn’t know where to go from here. Her phone buzzed and she peeled herself from her pillow, peeking at the text with one eye.
Dr. Carson: What do you want for your birthday?
“Why you gotta ask me shit like this, doc?” Every suggestive thing she could think of flashed through her mind, but she couldn’t type them. She couldn’t scare him off now, after just taking this step.
She wrinkled her nose and took the cowards way out, playing innocent.
I don’t know, she typed, Alicia is away that week at some convention thing. I’d normally hit the bar but yeah not doing that anytime soon lol
He didn’t respond right away, and Jolie muttered obscenities under her breath. What if he had been fishing for something more forward? And now she’d killed the moment by rambling about her alcoholism.
“Super smooth, Jo,” she groaned and pressed her face back into the pillow.
After a few moments, she huffed and grabbed her phone again, taking an even more cowardly route.
Well I gotta crash, work in the morning, hope you had a good birthday. She hit send and flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
Buzz. She lifted the phone.
Dr. Carson: The absolute best. Goodnight, Jolie.
Her heart skipped a beat and she curled the device against her chest, throwing her free arm over her eyes. I am so fucked.
The next morning, Jolie burst into the cafe early, just as Janos was taking off his coat to start prepping for the morning shift.
“Fucking hell, girl!” he gasped, whirling around to face her with a hand on his chest. “You scared the bejeezus out of me!”
“Sorry,” she gasped, chest heaving from her power-walk.
“You aren’t scheduled to open this morning, doll. Go back to bed.” He flicked his wrist at her and folded his coat neatly in his arms.
“No, I know,” she huffed, playing with the zipper of her jacket for a moment. “Can I just…ugh, just let me help you get shit ready. I need advice.”
He raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “Well okay, sweet-pea, the doctor is in.”
Jolie groaned. “Not helping!” She tore off her coat and tossed it on a nearby table.
“Oh.” He dragged out the word, a knowing smirk falling over his features. “Is this about sexy doctor man? Okay let’s get some coffee going, and you can fill me in on the hot goss.”
She wanted to argue that there was no goss, but that was a lie. Really, this was the hottest of goss.
“He told me his name,” she blurted as they moved around to the back of the counter. “Or, well, he asked for my name, and then when I told him he told me his.”
Janos held up a hand, counting off on his fingers as he pulled out a coffee bean bin. “First, it’s about time. Y’all have been friends for how damn long and you’ve had that stupid nickname. Second, what is it? I hope it's something sexy and moanable.”
“Carson,” she breathed, stifling a girlish sigh.
Thankfully, Janos let it out for her. “Oh damn, that’s one hundred percent moanable.”
“Don’t say shit like that!” she hissed. “This is a problem.”
He rolled his eyes as he scooped coffee beans onto the scale. “Why is it a problem? Because now your fantasy has a sexy name?”
“Sometimes I regret telling you about this,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “Yes, that is exactly the problem.”
He held out the first measurement of beans and she dumped it into the top of the grinder.
“Real talk time,” he said, and she wrinkled her nose, hitting the button and point
ing at her ears as the motor drowned him out.
He stuck his tongue out at her as he continued weighing out the morning beans. Once they were all ground, Jolie had no buffer to stop what she was afraid was going to come out of his mouth.
“I know you’re gonna spurt all this crap about oh but what if he doesn’t like me?” He exaggerated a falsetto and she scowled. “But that’s not even a thing. He clearly likes you if he’s been talking to you for almost a year without even knowing your damn name. You, my love, are afraid of intimacy. I think you’re more afraid of him being into you than not being into you.”
Jolie shoved her tongue into the inside of her cheek, avoiding his gaze. “That wasn’t the advice I was looking for.”
“And what advice were you looking for, doll face?” He batted his eyelashes. “Run away and block his number because you deserve to be unhappy until the end of time?”
“That’s dramatic.” She stuffed a full coffee filter into the basket with more force than was necessary. “And I'm not unhappy.”
“No, you’re just in limbo, and it’s time to get out of it.” He shoved a waiting carafe into the coffee maker and pushed the on button, waving for her to follow him as he headed into the kitchen. “All you do is work and occasionally hang out with me or Alicia. And don’t get me wrong, I enjoy your company, but you’re torturing yourself for no reason.”
Jolie crossed her arms as he started gathering ingredients for muffin batter on the prep table. “It’s not for no reason,” she protested. “It hasn’t even been a year since I buried my husband.”
“Girl, really?” Janos raised an eyebrow. “You told me yourself, that marriage was over long before he died. If anything, you should be more apt to live life, knowing firsthand that it can be over so quickly.”
She clenched her jaw. She knew he was right. She knew that somewhere, deep down, this was the reassurance she needed to hear, despite not wanting to face the facts.
“And what about Alicia?” she asked weakly. “I can’t do that to her.”
