by Nina Bocci
“Okay, no worries,” I replied, thinking of the layout of the second floor of the building. During the divorce, Dad moved out of the house we’d lived in together and into the doctor’s office. Over the years, he transformed the second level into his living quarters. It was the perfect bachelor pad. Besides the kitchen, two bathrooms, and living room, it had a bedroom and office, the latter of which I was hoping would have doubled as my guest room. Now it seemed that Dr. Max was there.
“Maybe the couch in the living room?” I asked. Having two roommates would be like college, but with less … questionable dating practices, since, you know, my dad lived here.
Dad frowned. “Honey, I wish.”
“So do I,” Max mumbled.
Well, well, maybe my chances are a bit better.
* * *
“I SHOULD HAVE made a plan,” I complained, stuffing the last suitcase into the back of my dad’s SUV. Of course, because the suitcase was older than I was, the zipper split open, spilling underwear and bras over the rest of the stack. “Awesome.”
My father had pulled his Mercedes SUV to the front of the house, jumping the curb to make it easier for me and Max to load up the car while he tended to his first patients.
After the awkward exchange in the office, we decided that it was best if I stayed with my grandmother Gigi, until Max moved out, whenever that would be.
“I’m really sorry about this, Charlotte. I do wish we were meeting under different circumstances,” Max apologized, carefully avoiding the ladywear as he restacked what I’d just shoved into the back to make it easier for me to remove everything later. Before he came outside to help, he had changed out of the random AC/DC shirt into a respectable polo from the Hope Lake Country Club, since he was expecting patients soon.
“It’s fine.” But it wasn’t. I wasn’t.
“I feel like you’re angry with me,” he said, partially sitting in the trunk. I wasn’t mad at him, per se. The stranger in my house. It hasn’t been your house in, well, ever.
I shook my head, smiling genuinely.
“I’m not mad at you. I don’t even know you,” I said honestly. “I’m frustrated with the outcome of the day, and I’m exhausted. And that usually means I’m a verbally stunted nightmare. I’m pretty sure that I smell not great, and I have a wicked headache, which is making everything feel a hundred percent worse.”
He laughed lightly and reached out to touch my shoulder. “Your dad didn’t prepare me for you,” he said with a gentle smile. “I knew you’d be beautiful; I’ve seen that in photos that he has around his house, but funny I didn’t expect, since he’s so dry and straitlaced. Amazing, well, I knew you would be the way your father described you.” He stood, raising his arm to close the trunk.
“Oh yeah? How did he describe me?” I asked, wondering how much this Max knew about me, especially when I knew nothing about him.
“He said you were feisty, wildly intelligent, stubborn, and while a bit harried at times, incredible. All of which are rolled into a firecracker of a daughter. Just from the few moments we’ve had, I’d say that I fully agree with his summation.”
My face warmed under his gaze.
A horn beeped behind us; a pale arm extended out the passenger window. “Looking good, Dr. Reese!” a woman yelled.
He ducked his head, smiling until the car was gone.
“Seems like there’s a Dr. Reese fan club in Hope Lake,” I teased.
He smiled shyly.
“I don’t know if it’s a fan club so much as one persistent fan pair of women who like to rib me incessantly,” he explained. “Your father thinks it’s hysterical.”
“So do I! How long have you been here to have accrued a fan club—sorry, fan pair?”
His lip quirked up on one side as he took a step forward. Just then, another woman passed by on the sidewalk and gave Max a delicate wave.
He flushed pink. “Not that long. I can tell you that I didn’t draw nearly as much attention when I got into Hope Lake as you did.”
I find that hard to believe.
“I’m thinking you have plenty of attention tossed your way, seeing as that woman nearly walked into the stop sign because she was staring at you.”
Max laughed, briefly glancing her way. When he brought his focus back to me, any embarrassment was erased.
“How about this? You get settled, relax this afternoon, and tonight maybe we can have a walk around town and get to know each other a little bit? I’m not an expert on this town, but we can explore Hope Lake together if you’d like.”
Dr. Max’s confidence was palpable. While I wasn’t always attracted to alpha-type guys, it was sort of working for him. Or I was just that tired and, frankly, a bit more gullible than usual.
“Like a date?” I blurted out. Immediately I wanted to swallow the words. Sleep was so needed right now. “See what I mean? Verbally stunted.”
He barked a laugh. “Not exactly what I meant. I was just thinking that you must have a reason for being here, and maybe a friendly face would make things easier. Of course, if you’d like to call it a date, I’m certainly not opposed to it.”
Is dating something I’m going to entertain while I’m here? I wondered. Then I looked at him again with his deep, dark eyes and perfect face and decided. Why not?
“Uh, sure. Gigi doesn’t live far. I’ll text you. What’s your number?”
Taking my phone, he dialed his. “Done,” he said, handing it back.
“Thanks.” I clicked on his number and listed him as Dr. Max in my contacts.
He looked over my shoulder. “I like that. Dr. Max.”
He winked, and my mouth went dry. I swear my flirting game was in desperate need of a life preserver because it was drowning.
If I wasn’t so tired, I’d have had a sexy quip in response.
Instead, I snorted, depositing the phone back into my pocket. “I’m sorry, I’m a mess,” I said, staring up at the house. “Not even a hot mess at this point. A tepid mess who needs so much sleep and a long, screaming-hot shower.”
“How long have you been up for?” he asked.
I scratched my head, trying to think. “At least twenty-four hours. I figured I would sleep on the bus and get here on time last night to crash at a normal hour. Clearly that didn’t happen.”
Max looked concerned, glancing at his watch and then at the car that had just pulled up to the curb. It was likely a patient. “Are you okay to drive? I can take you if you’d like.”
I smiled gratefully and took the keys from him. “Thanks, I’m okay. It’s just, I focused on this place the whole trip here.”
Dr. Max, as I was now calling him in my head, leaned against the car, crossing his arms. I couldn’t clear my head, my emotions were all over the place, and I was so tired that I was becoming delirious.
I was about to tell my inside voice to shut the hell up when Dr. Max spoke up. “Judging by the fact that I’m pretty sure you just fell asleep while standing up, why don’t we push our walk to tomorrow, since I suspect once you fall asleep, you’re not rousing until morning. And if it’ll make you more comfortable, come here for dinner after. It’ll be my night to cook, and I’ll make my specialty as a welcome-home gesture. I know your father wants to get to the bottom of this unexpected journey you’ve embarked on, and admittedly, I’d like to spend some time getting to know you when you’re coherent.”
A woman got out of the car that had just parked at the curb, drawing Max’s attention away from me. He waved before turning his attention back to me.
Dr. Max walked me to the driver’s-side door and waited while I got situated. “Until we meet again,” he said, tapping the roof once before walking away.
I watched him until he disappeared into the house, welcoming the patient as she walked in the front door. She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. She, like the other women, looked smitten. Small-town doctors, man. No wonder he had a fan club. My smile faded as the door closed. What the hell are you doing, Charlotte?<
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* * *
THE DRIVE TO Gigi’s wasn’t exactly easy. It should have been, considering it was only a couple of miles outside of town, but I kept having to stop to check the directions on my phone.
Where was the miserable, depressed town that my mother always talked about? I expected abandoned buildings. Run-down homes and pothole-riddled streets. At least that’s what my ten-year-old brain remembers combined with my mother’s descriptions. Instead, it was nearly the polar opposite of anything she’d ever told me about it.
Just one street behind my father’s practice, I rolled to a stop sign outside a development that lined the perimeter of the forest leading toward the river. THE LOVE LANE COMMUNITY, the stone sign read. That’s familiar, I thought, impressed by the breadth of hostas, zinnias, and hydrangeas at the sign’s base.
My phone chirped with a message just as I was about to accelerate through the stop sign. I glanced at it quickly when I heard the quick bloop of a siren. Panic struck. Shit, did I run the sign? No, I stopped and looked, I didn’t even move yet. Then what was the reason for being pulled over?
There in the rearview mirror, I saw the red and blue lights flash quickly before shutting off. I pulled over beside the stone wall and waited. Then I waited some more before the policeman rapped at the window with his nightstick. Beside him was another officer, significantly younger than the one with the stick.
I half expected to be greeted by Chief Birdy again but instead, there were two new faces.
Officer Stick’s shiny brass name badge read DUNCAN, and I couldn’t read the apprentice’s from where I was sitting.
I lowered the window and smiled, as innocent and calmly as I could. “Hi, there. Beautiful day we’re having, huh?”
I could imagine what my face looked like. Deer in headlights came to mind. I had never been pulled over before. Hell, I didn’t even have an updated lic— Oh, shit!
“License, registration, and proof of insurance,” Duncan said gruffly, placing the nightstick back in its holder on his belt.
“Funny story about that,” I began, leaning over the console to reach into the glove box. I riffled around for the insurance papers, finding them in a neat, organized little leather folder labeled NECESSITIES.
Jesus, Dad, does everything need to be so orderly?
“Ma’am?” he said. I could hear the officers whispering between themselves.
“Yes, sorry, uh, so funny story,” I said, smiling as broadly as I could. “I have the insurance and the registration, but, well, you see, my ID, well, I don’t really hav—”
“Step out of the vehicle, ma’am.” Well, damn, this has escalated quickly.
Think, what happened on Law & Order? No one got pulled over on that, it was crime-scene stuff. I set the little folder on the passenger seat and stepped out into the unseasonably warm day. It was only around nine, but the weather was already muggy and humid. I pulled the hair tie from around my wrist and pulled my curly hair up so it was at least off my neck.
“Ma’am, whose car is this?” the seasoned officer asked, casually resting his hands on his belt.
The younger man stood behind him, watching his every move, mirroring his position and trying to look as authoritative.
“It’s my father’s car. Dr. Bishop … ? Do you know him? I’m sure if you just call—” I began, but Duncan held up his pasty hand.
“Yes, I know him well, which means that I know his daughter doesn’t live here. Are you claiming to be her? Yet you have no ID to prove it.”
I swallowed, feeling the perspiration beading up on my forehead. “I am Charlotte Bishop. I just came back this morning for a visit, of sorts. I’m going to Gigi—sorry, my grandmother’s—now. Imogen Bishop … ? Out on—”
He cut me off again. “Yes, we’re aware of where Imogen lives. Do you know why we pulled you over?” There was no trace of kindness in his tone. All business with this one.
“Is a taillight out? I don’t know. I mean, I live in Brooklyn, so I’m not too familiar with—” I stopped talking when I realized I was essentially digging my own grave.
“I don’t drive in New York,” I finished, twisting my fingers together anxiously.
“When was the last time you held a current driver’s license?” Duncan said, and I felt the color drain from my face.
“Um,” I began, thinking back to when I had taken the test. Almost thirty-one minus sixteen equals I am so screwed.
“A while ago?” Brilliant, Charlotte, how the hell did you plan on renting a car without a license?
“I know how to drive, though. I mean, I passed the test with flying colors. It’s just there’s not really a huge need to drive in the city with all the public transportation, you know? Ubers are for birthdays.” I laughed, and it was so damn awkward.
His face didn’t crack. He was stonewalled like the actual stone wall behind me.
“Ma’am,” he began.
“I’m only thirty-one; I’m not really a ma’am.”
It slipped, and I slapped my hand over my mouth quickly, but the damage was done. It appeared that I was already on his short list of people to hate today.
“Teddy, you’re going to have to drive Dr. Bishop’s car to the station,” Officer Duncan explained, ignoring the fact that my mouth hung open.
“The station? Sir, with all due respect, is that necessary? I’m being arrested? This is a joke, right?”
If I wasn’t at the top of his list before, I sure as hell was now. His face reddened so quickly, I thought his head would pop off. “I’ll have you know, ma’am, that you can’t roll in here driving illegally and texting your fancy New York friends and get away with it. You can sit at the station until we can run your background and see just how long you’ve gone without a valid license.”
My eyes burned from flattening my lips together so hard. I was already in a heap of trouble, and I had been in this godforsaken town for only a couple of hours.
Officer Duncan ushered me into the cruiser, opening the back door with a smug grin on his face. I stared at him.
“In the back? With the cage thingy? I’m not a criminal, for pity’s sake!”
He didn’t answer except for raising one bushy eyebrow to his graying hairline. I huffed, swallowing every snarky retort swirling in my sleep-addled brain before sinking into the pleather seat. He was kind enough to keep the door open while he radioed into the station.
When he was off the phone, I put my hands together and tried to look like someone you wanted to help. “Can you at least call my grandmother or my dad and let them know I’m here so they’re not worried?” I begged.
He snorted. “This isn’t Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. You don’t get a phone-a-friend until you get to the station.”
Suddenly, he straightened up, smoothing back his wayward hair. I turned around to see a shiny white Jetta pulling up behind the cruiser.
“Oh, I see what’s up,” I mumbled, but he’d lost interest in me thanks to the visitor.
The car stopped, and a woman got out. Her long hair was pulled up in a loose bun, wide tortoiseshell sunglasses were perched on her nose, and she was dressed as if she were headed into fashion court, with a red pencil skirt and a black-and-white polka-dotted blouse. Wrapped around her was a thick, knotted black belt that accentuated every inch of her slight frame.
“Hello there, how’s my favorite policeman today?” she asked, click-clacking across the road in her impossibly high heels.
Officer Duncan was trying, and failing, to act cool by leaning against the hood of the car.
“Oh, you have a criminal! Exciting!” the woman said, clapping her hands. “When was the last time we had one of those? Probably when that tourist from Philly lost his pants, but that wasn’t really criminal as much as hilarious.”
I laughed. Finally, she turned and looked at me slumped against the pleather seat with my forehead pressed against the window.
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows raised from shock. Turning to Duncan, she shouted, “
Wait, you’re arresting Charlotte?”
3
“Well, I’ll be damned. What the hell are you doing here? And by here, I mean both in the back of Duncan’s cruiser and in Hope Lake,” she said with a laugh. “And how did I not know you were coming?” Her voice sounded hurt.
“You don’t know how happy I am to see you. The rest will take a bit to explain. It would go faster if Officer Duncan here cut me loose,” I teased. I had never been so grateful in my life to see a friendly face. “You should have been my phone-a-friend.”
She looked at me, then to Duncan, utterly confused.
“Figures you’d know her,” Duncan chimed in, rolling his eyes. He pushed off from the car and walked toward us.
Emma hushed him with a playful swat to his arm. “Be nice. Charlotte is one of my oldest and dearest friends. Though she was terrible for not letting me know she was coming. We could have planned something!”
What exactly did this place plan for people who came to visit? Gift baskets and special tours? Though, if it was a gift basket, sign me up.
Turning to me, she smiled broadly and winked. “Duncan,” she said in a cloyingly sweet voice, “can we let her out? I don’t think she’s a danger. In fact, I’m not even sure if she’s awake.”
Duncan harrumphed.
She glanced over at him with the same sweet smile. “I haven’t seen her in ages, and I’d love to chat. I promise I’ll bring her to the station if she breaks any laws.”
He rolled his eyes. “She’s unlicensed. You can’t let her drive.”
“Never. I’ll chauffeur her around.”
“And she should pay a fine,” he said sternly, hiking his pants above his round belly.
My stomach dropped. This, too, would be on my nearly maxed-out card.
“Emma, I’m serious,” Duncan said. “I’m not going to let this fly just because she’s friends with you or because she’s the doc’s daughter.”
“I know you’re serious, Duncan. That’s why you’re my favorite policeman and why I brought you this package of cookies from my mom.”
