“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“I like to think so. I’m an artist. A painter.” Her crystal-blue eyes, fringed with dark lashes, rose to meet mine. “You’re the first person I’ve seen. What’s your name?”
“Jim. Jim Whelan.”
“Thea Hughes. Pleased to meet you.” She took my hand and gave it one strong, hearty pump up and down. “You have kind eyes, Jim Whelan.”
You’re fucking stunning, Thea Hughes.
She gestured at the painting. “But not a fan?”
I shrugged.
“What’s your poison, artistically speaking?”
“Music,” I said. “I like… music.”
Christ, I sounded like a moron. Me like music. But Thea’s exquisite face lit up even brighter now.
“Oh hell, I love music.” She laughed. “Painting is my jam, but music is life. Do you play?”
“I have a guitar…” I said, and the rest died. I wasn’t about to tell her I sometimes sang too. Fuck no.
“I love the guitar,” Thea said. “What’s your fave?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, shrugged. “I don’t know. Rock music, mostly. Guns N’ Roses. Foo Fighters. Pearl Jam.”
Thea cocked her head. “Funny, I don’t know those.”
“You’ve never heard of Guns N’ Roses?”
She frowned. “I don’t know, actually… Should I have?” Then she slugged me in the arm playfully. “Don’t music-shame me, James. I’m a techno-and-dance gal. Behold… my sweet, sweet Chicken Neck dance moves.”
She thrust her head forward on her neck, over and over, and a laugh burst out of me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if a cloud of dust and moths had puffed out too. I envied how easily she inhabited her own skin. No self-consciousness.
She is who she is.
“Jim?”
I blinked.
“You’re staring.”
How can I not?
“Can’t blame you, though,” she said and then clapped her hand over her eyes. “Oh my God, that sounded like so egomaniac… ish. Egomaniacal? Is that a word?” She laughed. “I meant that I make a spectacle of myself. Or so my sister is always saying.”
“You dance like no one’s watching, even when people are watching,” I said.
“I hope that’s not a subtle jab at my mad dance skills.”
“Never,” I said. I’d never had a conversation go this easily for me. I talked as easily as she danced. No hesitation. “What do you paint?” I asked. “Fruit bowls?”
She gave me a sly, playful look. “What do you think I paint?”
I shrugged, jammed my hands in my pockets. “If I had to guess… I’d say big stuff. The Grand Canyon, maybe. I’d guess you use lots of colors, too.”
“Big and colorful, eh?” She laced her fingers behind her back. “And what makes you say that?”
“I don’t know. Something about you.”
That sounded like a bad line, but the truth would have been too much. That in only a handful of minutes in her presence I felt the magnitude of her.
“Well, you have me pegged pretty close,” she said. “I mostly paint scenes of Egypt. Pyramids, Cleopatra, the Nile. It’s my thing.”
I nodded. “Had a feeling.”
“Did you?” Our eyes met and her smile turned private. Just for me. “I have a feeling about you too, Jim Whelan.”
My heart did a slow roll. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Outside, you’re built like a brick wall with a movie star face and a badass black leather jacket. Inside? Deep as the Grand Canyon.” Her eyebrows raised inquisitively. “Am I close?”
I shrugged. “I… I don’t know…”
“You shrug a lot too,” she said. “Don’t do that. Your thoughts aren’t inconsequential.”
Our eyes met again and the “brick wall” I’d built to keep myself safe felt useless against her. Inconsequential. I had to see her again, even if that meant she’d hear the stutter.
I had a feeling Thea Hughes wouldn’t care if she did.
“So, are you visiting someone here?” I asked.
Thea’s smile froze. “Here?”
“Yeah. I just moved into town and I was—”
“My sister. She’s coming here.” Her delicate brows furrowed, confusion clouding the crystal blue of her eyes. “And my parents. They’ll be here any minute.”
“Okay.” Inhale. Exhale. “I was wondering if maybe, you’d like to—?”
“How long has it been?” Thea hugged herself and looked around as if seeing her surroundings for the first time. Her breath shortened. “I don’t know this place.” Her gaze darted to me. “How long has it been?”
“How long…?” I blinked. “I don’t know—”
“Who are you?” Thea’s eyes were wide now, panic bright in their light blue depths. “How long has it been?”
Did she want the time? I started to check my watch, and then it dawned on me. Like a tidal wave of cold water dousing the tiny, flickering flame between us.
Oh, fuck, you jackass. She’s a patient. A resident.
“How long has it been?” Thea shrieked, her voice echoing through the foyer.
“I d-d-don’t know…” I stammered to the pounding of my pulse.
She took a step back from me. “They’re working on my case,” she said. “The doctors. I had an accident. How long has it been?”
I glanced around the empty foyer, looking for help. “I… I d-don’t…”
“Miss Hughes, there you are.”
I spun to see a small woman with dark hair and eyes in a nurse’s pale blue scrubs striding quickly down the hallway. Relief lanced through me. The nurse shot me a curious glance and gently took Thea by the arm.
“Miss Hughes always seems to find her way to the front door.”
Thea turned her wide-eyed gaze to the nurse, whose nametag read Rita. “How long has it been?”
“Two years, Miss Hughes,” Rita said. “The doctors are working on your case.”
“Right,” Thea said, taking a deep breath and clutching Rita’s arm. “They’re going to figure out what’s wrong with me.”
Rita smiled and nodded her chin at the oil painting. “This picture is lovely, don’t you think?”
Thea relaxed and her smile started to return. “Absolutely. Look at the way the light shines over the curve of the apple.” She turned to me. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
I nodded, staring. “Yeah. Beautiful.”
She beamed and offered her hand. “Hi. I’m Thea Hughes.”
“Jim Whelan,” I murmured. My hand rose on its own and took hers, feeling as if I were having an out-of-body experience.
What the fuck is happening?
Thea gave my hand a strong, one-pump shake. “Nice to meet you, Jim.”
Rita cleared her throat. “You must be our new orderly?”
“I start Monday.”
“I’m Rita Soto.” Her smile was warm. “Welcome to Blue Ridge.” She nodded at the empty front desk with a frown. “I see Jules is on another smoke break. Thank you for keeping Miss Hughes company.”