Chapter 8

chapter

eight

Graham

That had not gone as planned. Granted, I hadn’t had a specific plan. I’d been acting on anger because the thought of her moving away, leaving Saddle Creek—leaving me—made me panic.

Which doesn’t make any sense, because I’ve known her for less than a month.

And I’ve never been prone to panicking about anything. I’m a forty-eight year old man, for fuck’s sake.

I at least got her to agree to stay and be my nurse. And I promised not to suggest we have an affair or have benefits. But she’s staying. If I can’t have her in my bed, I can at least see her most days. And she’s excellent at her job. Always anticipating what I need before I even know.

We work together as if we’ve been doing it for years. Lizzie feels like my partner, not my nurse. And I don’t know what the fuck to do with that feeling. All I know is, I want more. More of her. More of us.

If I’m truly honest with myself, I was changing before I even met Lizzie. After Bram met Emma, I started noticing how very alone I am. Not in every regard of my life, of course. I have my sister, Rebecca. She and her husband, Jack, have an entire brood of children. I suppose the Blankenship’s are not really children anymore. But their house is always a flurry of activities if I need some company.

When Bram and Lisa got married right out of high school, it was to be expected. I don’t remember ever looking at them and feeling envious of what they had. He was single so long after she passed. I guess I took for granted we’d be two old single farts, drinking beer and complaining about the weather.

Then he met Emma. We stopped hanging out as much, which wasn’t surprising, and I certainly don’t begrudge him his happiness. The man raised four kids essentially by himself. If anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s Bram.

It was around that time, though, that I started noticing how big my house is. How unnecessarily large it is for a single man. Why did I ever think I’d need this much space, especially when I’ve always been determined to remain single?

It’s time for me to start using my house more. Maybe host a few get-togethers. Fuck, that sounds like a lot of work. Still, being with Lizzie is easy, so I take out my phone and shoot her a text.

ME: Pancake breakfast at my house tomorrow.

ME: You and the kids.

LIZZIE: Are you sure? They can be a lot, especially my son.

ME: I’m a pediatrician because I love kids. I’m not afraid of your toddler.

LIZZIE: Maybe put all your breakables up high or lock them in a room.

ME: Let me know if anyone has any allergies.

I want to keep texting her. I want to call her and hear her voice. But since I’m not usually a chatty kind of guy, I just pocket my phone and turn on the television.