Page 7 of Do You Take This Man

If you can’t control it, roll with it.

It was ironic that that last bit of advice came from someone who grew up to be so in control of every detail that I sometimes thought she understood the world to bend at her insistence.

My sister had added a fourth: Date someone nice who doesn’t bring drama to your doorstep.

All four had been in the back of my head since then.

Photos of Penny and her wife lined the window ledge. The two of them together on trips around the world dotted the space. It had been the two of them for a long time. They’d been trying to adopt for years with no luck. Still, I wasn’t the third member of the household they planned on, and I ran through calculations in my head of when I could afford to get my own place and move out of their basement.

My phone buzzed on the desk, and I smiled as I flipped over the device. “Hey, loser.”

“Speak for yourself,” my sister said with a laugh. “How’s North Carolina treating you?” She’d moved to Southern California two years earlier to begin her residency.

“You know. It’s home,” I said, sitting back in the chair. “Need to stop in to see Uncle Harold still.”

She was biting back a comment about me not going to see him yet but, uncharacteristically, she didn’t say it, which was how I knew what her next question would be. “How you doing?”

I glanced out the window, planning to ignore her question. The same question she’d been asking me for months. “I’m fine.”

“Do better,” she said. There were muffled voices in the background that sounded like the coffee shop we used to frequent together. “All you’ve said is ‘fine’ for months.”

“Yeah, you’d think a doctor like yourself would be smart enough to take the hint.” I glanced at my watch again, wondering where the hell Penny was.

“I take hints very well. They’re often disconnected from what someone says out loud. Anyway, when have you ever known me to just let something go?”

“Not once in your life.”

“So...?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re impossible.” The background noise changed as she stepped outside, and I immediately missed the incessant sunshine of LA, the noise and energy. Things were different in North Carolina—Southern hospitality, but I missed the shine and smiles, even the fake ones. Sarah popped into my mind, and my face shifted into a drawn expression. Her insistence on how happy she was. I shook my head, pushing the image away.

I drummed my fingers on the desk. “What’s up?”

Can you hear an eye roll over the phone?“Well, my brother got screwed over, lost his job, and ran away from his life, so I’m getting coffee on my break and asking him to let go of this toxic masculinity, keep-everything-inside shit and talk about his feelings.” As Cait spoke, Sarah fell out of my head and RJ Brooks popped into my mind, her flustered expression, just the flash of it, when I handed her back her sandwich.

“I think my toxic masculinity is serving me fine.”

“Weird flex,” she muttered, sounds of traffic behind her. “You’re spending too much time alone.”

“How do you know I’m alone? Maybe I’m the swipe-left king of Asheville.”

“Again, weird flex.” The sounds of the hospital filled her end of the conversation, and I knew she’d have to be off the phone soon. “I know you. You’re alone.”

“I enjoy being alone. Alone is good. I don’t need another person dragging me down.”

She sighed again, and I knew she was biting her lip before deciding to respond again.

Luckily, my phone buzzed with another call. “Penny’s on the line. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You better!”

I clicked over. “Hey. Where are you?”