Nora walked right over to a big painting near the door to the deck. “Is this Jude?”
“Yeah.” It was of Jude, but his mom had set him in outer space—she’d always played with themes of magic and eternity, especially closer to the end of her life, when she’d known her diagnosis was terminal but had still been able to work. In this one, Jude was grinning as he floated among stars and nebulae. “She did that after he died.”
“It’s beautiful. Not in a flowery, sympathy-card sort of way, but in a real way, you know?”
“Yeah.” That was part of why he missed his mom so much. Like Nora, she had been able to face the horrible things in life with clear eyes. She had been a rock after Jude died, which was part of why her death had hit him so hard. He moved to the kitchen and had to clear his throat. “How do you feel about trout?”
“I feel great about trout.”
He unpacked the big salad he’d bought from Sadie’s Diner and got the fish out of the fridge where it had been marinating. “I caught these this morning, so they’re fresh. I thought we’d grill them outside.” He paused with the fridge open. “I have wine or beer. I also have bourbon if you’d rather.” He didn’t generally stock bourbon, but he’d bought some for her. He didn’t generally stock anything, for that matter, unless Sawyer and Law were coming over, because he didn’t drink alone at home. After Jude died and Kerrie left, he’d made a conscious decision to keep his drinking social, which meant mostly at Lawson’s Lager House. It seemed like it might be too easy, otherwise, to let himself slip into oblivion.
“Wine would be great.” She nodded at his full hands. “You want me to get it?”
“Sure. Thanks. I’ll have a glass, too.”
Soon they were outside, and he was firing up the grill. “I should warn you that this is an old-school charcoal grill, so it’s going to take a while for the coals to be ready.”
“I brought snacks!” She ducked back into the house after she’d set two glasses of wine on the outdoor table. She returned with a bag of nuts from Jenna’s General and a cluster of grapes. “I think it should be fine to let Mick loose. He’s afraid of water, so he can’t really get in or out of the cove.” As soon as she let him off his leash, Mick lumbered down to the beach and started snuffling around.
After Jake was done lighting the coals, he joined her at the table. He had designed the deck with a built-in bench that spanned one side. The table was arranged so that if you sat on the bench, you could look at the lake. Nora was sitting on the bench. He had chairs on the other side of the table—he supposed so that in theory, he could have people over for dinner and have enough seating. Sometimes he and Law and Sawyer sat around this table.
So he should sit on one of those chairs, across from Nora.
But he did not. He sat next to her on the bench.
“Here’s to one month under your belt, Dr. Walsh.” He lifted his glass and clinked it against hers. “How does it feel?”
“It feels exhausting.” She toasted with him. “Though I guess that’s good. We’re pretty much booked solid most days. And I pulled some stats. In the month since the Mermaid Parade, I’ve done a dozen MMR boosters and seen two families who’d been hesitant but decided to bring their kids in to start the schedule. I totally put that down to you guys and your crazy van.”
“Not my crazy van. Maya and Pearl get the credit. I was just the muscle.”
“Well, I’ve come to understand recently—the hard way—that actions speak louder than words, so you’re just going to have to live with some of the credit.”
She was talking about that dirtbag Rufus. Thinking about what he’d done to Nora made Jake angry. But, simultaneously, being compared to Rufus and coming out on top made him feel good.
She was confusing.
Even more confusing? When she said, “Still. I’m beat,” heaved a huge sigh, and let her head fall onto his shoulder.
It was not even remotely a sexual, or romantic, gesture. It was companionable. They had become genuinely close in the six or so weeks she’d been here. For some reason he hadn’t bothered examining, he had clicked with her. She was smart and funny, and she didn’t do false sentiment.
She was his friend. They were friends.
He allowed himself to consider the nagging feeling he’d had earlier, when they’d gotten out of the truck and started the trek into the cove, that he had a problem. He’d thought, then, that bringing Nora here was kind of unprecedented. He didn’t do that.
So what did it mean that he had?
What did it mean that he wanted to put his arm around her? To encourage her to lean into him and rest?
She had woken him up. Woken his body up. He was intensely, viscerally aware of her at all times. Of where she was, and of how much distance there was between them. Like when he was working on her fence and she got home, he could tell she was about to appear from behind the house before she did. When she opened the pizza boxes she often brought home with her, he watched her small, efficient hands and imagined them pressing a stethoscope to a chest. Imagined them pressing against a chest without the stethoscope.
Sawyer and Law had tried to give him a phone a couple years ago. They’d staged an intervention and said it was time to get on some dating or hookup apps. He had shut that right down. He didn’t want a phone. He didn’t want apps. He didn’t want people. He could take care of things by himself in the shower when the need arose. It was a mechanical problem to be solved dispassionately.
The problem that had been niggling, and that was now making itself more overtly known in his consciousness, was that Nora made him feel things that were not mechanical.
He didn’t put his arm around her, but it was a close thing.
Nora had a problem, and that problem was that she wanted to jump Jake.
Her sister had told her, today in fact, that this wasn’t a problem. “That is one fine specimen of human male, Nor,” she’d said during a FaceTime. Nora had not brought this up; Erin had. “I mean, could you do better for a rebound fling? But you make sure it’s just a fling, because I have a bunch of house listings to send you.”
Nora had declared her Moonflower Bay time-out a “no boys” zone, but she hadn’t actually thought through what that meant. Certainly it meant no boyfriends. And no dating, because dating was how a person ended up with a boyfriend. Just like she was keeping her house mostly empty, she didn’t want to clutter up her life or her brain with other people’s junk. She didn’t want to have to please anyone but herself—and she was still figuring out what that meant.
One thing she hadn’t really taken into account as she’d thought through the life reset was the concept of casual sex. Mostly because she hadn’t really had much of it in her life. She was more of a serial monogamist.
She was pretty sure she wanted a husband and kids someday, so at some point she was going to have to get back on the horse. Just not yet.
But…did she have to take a breather from sex itself?
When her sister and some of her hospital friends had suggested she go out on the prowl and have some revenge sex, she’d laughed. The idea had actively repulsed her.