What Love Is

Chapter 3

Dedicated to stinagooch for the awesome comments :) thank you.

She was prepared to hobble home, chilled to the bone, when the Honda pulled up in front of the hospital.

Rowan imagined her father had been forced to walk to the McDonalds to pick up the car, and for that, pure and raw guilt churned in her belly. It had to have dropped to at least forty degrees by the time night fell, and she had only been sitting outside for about a half hour. The walk to the fast food restaurant from their house had to have taken an hour or more by foot.

The passenger window rolled down as she stood. There was a black boot on her right ankle, since she had been diagnosed with a major sprain (something that sounded much more serious when the doctors said it). Rowan smiled when she saw her father, bundled up in multiple coats, two hats, a scarf, and earmuffs.

"Hey, kid," he called. "You look cold."

She strode awkwardly to the car, holding the unused high heel and pocketbook in her hands. He reached over the center console and opened the door for her.

The drive home was quiet, surprisingly, since Rowan and her father had never had issues finding things to talk about. Maybe he was giving her some time to think, she wondered, carefully looking at his face. He had shaven, taking years off his appearance, but he appeared impassive, she noticed. She'd had plenty of time to think, to be honest. It was all she had done since Andrew Mathis had offered her a job and she had turned it down.

"You're quiet," she commented.

Peter chuckled. "So are you."

She shook her head, gazing out the window. "It was just a really, really, long day," she sighed, hardly believing any of the day's events happened.

Rowan barely knew Mr. Mathis, and the thought of him tied her stomach into knots. Mainly due to the fact he probably saw her as a stupid fool, and partly due to the fact he probably saw her as a stupid fool.

And then, to just offer her the job because he felt guilty was a slap in the face. She scowled as she recalled how simply the words 'I don't want it' had just fallen from her mouth, after a morning and afternoon spent praying she would get it.

She furrowed her brow, sitting back as pieces fell together. Had Andrew Mathis purposely forced her to not want the job? Had he made her believe he'd offered the job out of guilt? Had he done all of those ludicrous and rude things, such as almost hitting her with his car, to keep her from working at the hospital?

Rowan doubted it, but it seemed to make sense so easily.

"I believe you," he replied, turning into the driveway. She felt a small sense of relief as the finalization of home set in. Inside, she could heat up the leftover soup she made from last night and curl up in bed and forget about everything that happened.

She nodded, climbing out of the car and following her father across the driveway up to the front door. Walking was still a chore – it felt like dragging her foot around encased in bricks. The boot shoved her leg upward with every step.

Rowan dropped her pocketbook on the table, standing there for a moment to assess how differently she had felt that morning. How different she had been.

Damn Andrew Mathis and damn the cursed nursing position.

Seth wandered in from the living room, eyes widening slightly at her ragged appearance. Her skirt was torn and her jacket was dirty from the fall in the street, arms and knees wrapped in thin gauze. Not to mention she had a nasty sprain.

"Did you get the job?" he asked.

Rowan looked at the floor, wishing he would turn around and walk in the direction that he came in. Her father rubbed her shoulder with his hand and left, disappearing into the living room adjacent to the kitchen.