Page 27 of Hold Me Instead (Elmwood Falls #1)

Zachary

“Put the damn phone down, Z,” Sandra hissed. “The kids are trying to tell you a story.”

Zachary clicked off his phone and slid it into his coat pocket. “Sorry, guys.”

He looked up at his niece and nephew, who were making the most of their waiting room time until they were called back into his dad’s room.

“Uncle Zachy.” Vivi took hold of his hands, her long hair falling loose from a ponytail and topped off with a princess crown. Sparkly blue and purple plastic necklaces were piled around her neck, hanging to her stomach. “You hafta hear about the princess.”

“I’m ready. I want to hear all about the princess,” he said.

“Dun, dunn, dun, dunnn!” Alex cried, creating his own coronation song. He was draped in a blanket—to emulate royalty—and bopped around with his toy sword, tapping it on the floor. He wore a sparkly purple necklace Vivi had graced him with in an earlier ceremony.

The kids regaled them with a surprisingly short story about a princess and a prince, who were traipsing through the halls of a castle where lots of doctors and nurses worked.

They had to whisper when they passed by the rooms of all the people living there, and their mission was inconclusive.

But they knew there would be ice cream at the end, so it all worked out.

Then they settled into a waiting room chair to watch a show on Sandra’s phone.

With their eyes glued to the screen, Zachary pulled out his phone again. “I love that you let them out of the house like that,” he said quietly. “They look like little tornadoes.”

Over jeans and an emerald sweater embroidered with robots, Vivi wore a bright yellow tutu that fluffed over the sides of her chair.

Alex, whose short black hair was in a perpetual state of “I nap hard,” wore his woodland creatures’ blanket over a sweatshirt with neon green ABCs and fuchsia hand-me-down snow pants.

One snow boot was inexplicably on the ground below his dangling feet.

“They wouldn’t have come otherwise. But whatever, they’re expressing themselves. If I act embarrassed about it, who’s that going to help?”

“Mmm.” No new messages, as he flipped through his texts and emails.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

He tapped his phone in his hand, debating. Lying to her was useless—his sister had always been able to read him. Telling her exactly what was on his mind wasn’t at the top of his list either, so he opted for the middle ground.

“Trying to figure out what else I can do to help Charlie. Feel like she’s still taking on more than she needs to. You know, with me in town.”

“That sounds like her.”

“Yeah. She hasn’t changed.” He smiled, remembering how ready she was to tackle anything and everything when she first started at EFVH.

She’d arrive early or leave late from front desk shifts so she could shadow techs or his dad.

Her eagerness had rubbed off on him a bit—the ability to discuss his career with someone so passionate who wasn’t his father reminded him it wasn’t a requirement to go into the business, it was a choice. One he really wanted.

Sandra tugged the cuffs of her crewneck sweater and tucked her hands between her knees. “How are things coming along for the cookout?”

“I’m not sure. Sounds like she has it under control.”

“You’re going?”

“I’m grilling the food.”

Sandra practically tipped from her chair. “Seriously?”

“Yep. Talked to Mom a bit about Dad’s setup.”

Sandra blinked, the shake of her head slight as she processed the information. “You’re literally filling in for him. At work. At the cookout.”

“Yep.”

“Wow. I’m surprised.”

Zachary raised his eyebrows. “It’s obvious.”

“Can you blame me? After carefully carving your own path in the same career as Dad, you left town for what’s-her-face”—Sandra said as she scrunched her nose—“and now, here you are, stepping in as though it was all ready and waiting for you.”

It unsettled him, that everything locked into place so naturally. Instead of feeling honored to step into his father’s shoes, Zachary felt guilty. After the choices he’d made and the hurt he’d caused, he didn’t deserve things to run smoothly. For his father’s sake, he was glad it did.

For Charlie too .

“You know which brand of these items Dad would get? Don’t want to drop the ball.

” He showed the grocery list to Sandra, a photo of the handwritten list with Charlie’s cheerful loopy penmanship.

The one he’d convinced her to text him that morning in an effort to soften the night before and keep contact positive.

He wanted her to accept his help, even if she didn’t want to open up to him just yet.

He knew there was more beneath her cheery exterior, and for some reason, he was hellbent on getting past it.

She shrugged. “I have no clue, we just show up. I’m sure Charlie has some ideas?”

He was surprised she hadn’t included more details to make sure he followed things exactly. If it gave him an excuse to reach out to her though, he’d take it. She wouldn’t deny a conversation about the cookout.

He tapped out a text.

Zachary: Pretend I’m five. What specifics/brands etc should I get?

He waited for those little dots to indicate she was responding.

“What are you grinning about?” Sandra asked.

The text that buzzed through made him smile even wider.

Charlie: A five-year-old shouldn’t be doing the shopping. Did you rope in Vivi and Alex?

She didn’t even accuse him of being five, which was a good sign.

“You’re a genius, Sandra,” he said.

“It’s exhausting sometimes,” she replied.

He ignored his sister, too busy arguing with the little voice in his head that proclaimed this was all a ruse to stay on Charlie’s mind.

She was definitely on his.

** *

Zachary piled meat, vegetarian patties, and toppings into the fridge, took a picture of the goods, and texted it to Charlie.

Charlie: I’m surprised you didn’t send me a picture of it in your car.

Zachary: ?

Charlie: Got individual pix of the items, the full cart, now the fridge. I missed the transportation stage.

Perhaps his attempts had turned desperate, but he wasn’t ashamed. Now that he was home, alone, the hospital visit and grocery shopping behind him, he didn’t need to simply text her. He looked at the clock. She had to be finishing up notes at the office.

Determined, he coaxed Maple into his SUV, the poor girl giving him a look that made him promise her it’d be worth it.

He muttered to himself the whole drive there about how this was a good idea.

Once he arrived in the Village and slowed, his shoulders relaxed.

Wreaths and holiday lights dripped from awnings, street lamps showcased sparkly bows.

Storefront windows were incorporating winter displays, the mood cheery, happy, warm .

He parked and stared at the employee exit. Twinkle lights framed the front windows of the otherwise dark clinic. Their end of the lot was quiet, Charlie’s car the only one left. Maple popped up and panted excitedly as she recognized where they were.

“Pretty good surprise, huh? Let’s go inside and say hi,” he said. He helped her out of the car and into the building, the lights low, the space quiet. Maple did her version of hustling down the hall and into their office, where he heard a yelp of surprise .

He rounded the corner to see Charlie accepting kisses from Maple, her laugh breathless.

“She scared the crap out of me,” she said.

He winced. “Sorry, I should’ve called out.”

With one final kiss, Maple lumbered over to the bed she now claimed as her own and hunkered down.

“It’s okay.” Charlie stood, an adoring look on her face as her gaze left Maple and met his.

He stopped short, caught off guard by her soft expression, one she gave so freely to animals as though they all stole her heart.

Maura was on the receiving end quite a bit as well.

There was one time he thought he’d caught it directed at him—when they’d helped the kittens.

He’d been holding one of the little guys in his hands, saying how lucky it was, only to look up, directly into Charlie’s eyes.

A sheen to their hazel warmth, her smile had made him feel like a hero.

The glow of the office lamps created a halo effect around her now, the space as cozy as a cabin up north. A pink hue rose to her cheeks and skimmed down her neck, and she bit her lower lip. When his eyes followed her action, she cleared her throat and turned back to her desk.

“What are you two doing here?” Her voice cracked.

What am I doing here?

“Thought I’d swing by to finish our conversation. About the groceries. Maple and I were running out anyway,” he hastened to add as she turned.

One eyebrow raised above rose-gold glasses. “Was there a problem with them?”

“Problem? No. They’re all tucked away in Jordan’s fridge.” He cringed at his words .

Her voice was laced with humor. “Do you need me to tell the food a bedtime story?”

His laugh shook, and he scratched a hand through his hair. He was nervous .

“I’m afraid it’d be grim,” she continued. “All about what they’re in for in a few days.”

He groaned. “Harris, that’s dark.”

She chuckled. “Hey, I warned you, Lee.” She lifted her purse to her shoulder, and he finally registered her coat.

“You’re heading out?”

“Yeah. Running home to feed Toothless and then helping Magnolia at her shop.”

“You’re doing that tonight?”

“Yeah. She’s got a fair amount left, and she’s basically here alone.”

“How are you managing that in the midst of everything else?”

She shrugged. “Good to have a change of scenery, I guess.”

He nodded and looked at Maple, head resting between her paws, eyebrows seesawing as she watched them. “Think Toothless and Maple are on a similar schedule. Need to get her home for dinner too.”

“I thought the two of you were heading somewhere?”

“We were?” What had he said? “Oh, right. Well, just a quick stop. The fridge! I left stuff in this fridge earlier.” Not as smooth as if he’d mentioned it up front, but it was true.