"rounds of it."
I really didn't want our day together to end. In a movie, this is where we'd make an awkward attempt to kiss each other and it would end up being so awesome, we'd tumble into the car only to emerge rapturous and flushed, hours later. Or maybe interrupted by the police in a slapstick scene. Or aliens in a sci-fi movie. Or a killer in a horror flick. I shuddered, imagining that, but I still wanted a kiss.
But he just patted the roof of my car, waiting for me to get in.
So, I climbed in. It was getting late, and duty called at the vet clinic the next day. Poor, furry suckers didn't know their early morning joy-ride was going to be the end of their manhood. There were three neuters scheduled for the next morning. That's something a girl needed to rest up for.
"See you Wednesday," he said."
"I waved goodbye, pretending I wouldn't be counting down the hours. All seventy-two of them.
Brady picked me up in his Wrangler, and I was more excited to see him than the time I saw Santa behind our house the night before Christmas. I hoped this hot, funny guy wasn't going to just turn out to be make-believe, too. I liked him more and more each time I saw him.
"Did you tell Miranda what you're up to?" he asked.
"Since she lives across the hall from me I would've, but she's down on the Cape this week at someone's beach house. Apparently the dry cleaner is the new place to meet hot men."
"Or at least cleanly-dressed men."
"I'm sure he's both. And rich." I was glad I didn't have to tell Miranda about my "date" with Brady. She probably would've wanted to come along and I wasn't willing to share. She had enough boys to play with.
Brady slowed the car. "Should we make a detour to the dry cleaner before the party?"
I leaned my head back on the seat and looked at him. "I'm good, thanks."
He sped up the car. "Miranda sounds very different from you."
I snorted. "And you didn't draw that conclusion the other night from looking at us?"
"No, I mean the way she treats men. Like an all-inclusive ticket to amuse her. I'm surprised you're friends with her."
I tightened my grip on my purse. "You don't understand."
"Of course not, I'm a man. Enlighten me."
"I looked out the window, wondering how much to tell, but still wanting to defend her. "We met when we were kids. I was nine and she was eight. We were both in the cancer ward at Children's Hospital. Leukemia, only hers was worse. Way worse."
He reached over and squeezed my hand. "I'm so sorry."
His hand on mine was like butter on a biscuit-only I was the one melting. I had to remind myself to keep talking. "Yeah, it sucked. But it sucked more for her. My parents were there all the time. I was never alone. But her mom was single; her dad took off before she was born. Her mom couldn't lose her job, and she could only visit for a little while each day. So, we kind of took her under our wing"
"Brady pressed his lips together. "That must have been so hard for her."
I nodded. "And then it got worse. I only had to do one round of chemo. She had to do more. I checked out of the hospital and she was still there." Damn it, tears were pricking my eyes and it was too late to stop them.
"Tissues are in the glove box," he said.
"Thanks." I reached for one and blew my nose, knowing how pretty that must look. "I tried to come back and visit her as often as I could. I felt so guilty, knowing she was there, alone. We've been friends ever since. No one else really understands what it's like to go through something like that."
"And you still feel responsible for her?"
I hadn't really ever thought of it that way, but he was right. "Yeah, seventeen years later, I guess I still do." I picked at my thumbnail. "She has a bit of a "live life to its fullest" thing going on, thus her list of conquests. Kids with her type of cancer usually don't live past forty," I said, quietly."
