Page 47
Story: Dream a Little Dream
“You’re welcome.”
With a deep breath, she looked around her desk as if searching her brain for whether she had anything else to say. “I would encourage you to watch out for strawberries at the store and continue to pay attention to your pain level, okay? Pull back if the foot is giving you trouble, and feel free to call me directly with any questions.”
Oh, no. That was it? We weren’t going to flirt anymore? She wasn’t going to attempt to pursue me and then I’d dodge the attention, when actuallythis time, I planned to meet it head-on? I wore my outerwear. I was ready to mix it up. It appeared I wouldn’t be given the opportunity today. That was a shame and had me flustered.
“Yes, totally. I will do all of those things.”
“A model patient. Take care, Potter.”
I made my way quietly to the parking lot, shooting Tasha a wave as she chatted away on the phone. Well, that was a crash and burn if I’d seen one.
Apparently, meeting in her office didn’t have any larger implications after all. Maybe the other exam rooms were just full and Kyle was squeezing me in somewhere. And then a horrible thought occurred. What if things had taken off with Raven? That had to be it. Just as I was coming around, Kyle was interested in someone else. My stomach turned, and I went cold and clammy. That was certainly telling, wasn’t it? I drove home and made myself a frozen pizza for dinner, shutting the oven door extra hard because that’s what a person with a wounded heart did.
So much for taking back control of my destiny.
Bring on the damn pepperoni and regret.
* * *
I guarantee the devil was laughing the day he invented karaoke. When I’d agreed to meet up with my friends at Ronnie’s to celebrateElizabeth’s tenth year in business with On the Spot, I hadn’t forgotten the once-a-month karaoke component and now watched in amusement as Cricket and her group of minion friends sang “Come and Get It” by Selena Gomez, to embarrassing results.
“But they believe they’re good, though,” Jonathan said, studying the stage as Cricket shook her hips and the microphone in unison. “And that takes a lot.”
“A whole, whole lot,” I answered earnestly.
“Bless their hearts,” we mouthed in unison.
“I can’t believe those women used to be my best friends in high school,” Devyn said, squinting. “I’m rethinking so many choices right now.” As the former captain of their mean-girls cheerleading squad, she’d come a long way since then.
“You’ve more than made up for it. Plus, you’ve moved forward with your life, grown, blossomed. Cricket is boycotting the school book fair just like she boycotted the blood drive in eleventh grade.” I sat back with a smile. “So, the least I can do is enjoy the car crash onstage right now. Even Sean is cringing, and he’s the most supportive bartender ever.”
Elizabeth stared hard at the stage. “I feel like Heather practices that pouty face in the mirror.” She inclined her head for an alternate view. “How does she get her lips to stick out that far? I’m so confused right now. But also a little bit impressed.”
I laughed and shook my head, having dutifully forgiven Elizabeth for swallowing the Kyle-works-here-now headline. I was actually having a really good time. The karaoke was atrocious, but that had worked out in our favor. I owed Cricket and her crew a fruit basket, which I once proposed we assemble and sell at the store. Faber said no.
“Dr. Kyle’s here.”
Record scratch. My laughter faded. “She is?”
“Look at you perk right up,” Devyn said. “Things must be better on that front than the last time we ran into her here. You looked like you wanted to throttle her.” A pause and a wink. “And not in the fun way.”
“We talked,” I confessed to the table. These were my good friends, after all. I trusted them. “Cleared up a few things. And…we’re friends.”
“Friends,” Jonathan said with tented hands. “You pick each other up from the airport? Pat each other’s hand when you’re proud? That kind of friend?”
“Or,” said Devyn, looking me straight in the eyes, “the kind of friend you press up against the wall and—”
“Don’t give away all our secrets,” Elizabeth said.
“Well, well.” I swiveled to her like a lollipop on a turning mechanism. “Someone’s feeling extra saucy tonight.”
“Sometimes I surprise people. But which of those friends are you two?” she asked, turning straight back to me in playful challenge. Our table’s friend energy was recharging me tonight. These were the kinds of nights that lifted me up and gave me life to face the rest of my workweek.
“The airport kind, I think.”
“Boo,” said Jonathan. “I was rooting for a comeback story.”
“Maybe I was, too. But if it’s not meant to be, it’s simply not.”
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