As we left the kitchen and headed toward the dining room balancing our full plates and glasses, Pistol began whimpering from outside of the screen door. Without prompting, Nate walked over and let Pistol in, even though the ornery little dog growled at him.
Nate just smiled and followed me into the dining room. Pistol took up residence under my feet at the table. After a few moments of silence, something came over me and I blurted out, “Do you have a girlfriend in L.A.?”
He set his fork down and took a sip of his wine. “No, Ava, I don’t have a girlfriend. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I did.”
“Technically I kissed you.”
“I wouldn’t have let you.”
“Do you date a lot of women? I bet you have women flocking around you all the time.” As soon as I let the words out, I slapped my hand over my mouth and felt a blush creep over my face. I couldn’t believe I had said that to him.
He looked up pensively like he was trying to decide how to answer a question I shouldn’t have asked.
“I haven’t been with anyone in almost five years.” He lifted his eyebrows and looked me dead in the eye.
“Wow. Why?”
“I’ve been busy becoming a surgeon. It consumed me, but I don’t regret it. I never really clicked with anyone in L.A. anyway.”
“Oh.”
“This is delicious,” he said, changing the subject.
“Thank you. Can I ask you something, Nate?”
“Sure.”
“Are you trying to fix me and my heart because of what happened with your patient?”
His fork clanked to the plate loudly. Picking up the napkin and wiping his mouth, he shook his head slowly. He looked penitent and lost in thought. “I don’t know. I mean, no, I don’t think so.”
“The only people you’ve bothered with in five years are people with broken hearts.”
His nostrils flared, his jaw flexed, and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth.
“I’m sorry, did I offend you?”
“No.” He shook his head as if he were trying to convince himself.
“I just don’t understand why you enjoy being around me.”
“I have no idea why you have such a low opinion of yourself. You’re beautiful and kind, Ava.”
“But . . . I must seem ignorant to you.”
“Don’t say that,” he whispered, looking pained. “That’s far from true. College degrees don’t make you smart, life experiences do. Honestly, that’s something I’ve lacked and it’s probably responsible for much of the reason I failed as a doctor. Since I’ve been here, around you, I’ve learned more about myself and the heart than I did in all my years in college.”
“It’s hard for me to believe that.”
“It’s true, Ava. I’m drawn to you but I don’t think you’re broken, so no, I’m not trying to fix you. I just wish you could see that you still have so much of your life to live. And you have so many people here who care about you.”
I started to tear up. “I guess I do see that now, but what about you? You’re going to leave and then . . .” Tears began filling my eyes before one escaped down my cheek.
Reaching out and wiping it away with the pad of his thumb, he shook his head. “Don’t think about that right now. Can we enjoy being together?” I nodded. “I plan to make some big changes in my life, too, but I won’t forget about you.”
I looked down at my plate but felt ill. I couldn’t take another bite.
He slid his chair away from the table. “Come here, Ava.”
My legs were wobbly as I stood. He gently tugged on my arm, pulling me down onto his lap. I went boneless in his strong arms. Bracing me around my back and neck, he nestled his face near my ear. “You smell so good,” he said. “I won’t ever hurt you, I promise. Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”
I sniffled. “Just hold me.” The skin on his face looked rough with a day’s worth of beard growth. Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his clean hair. It was free of any products and perfectly messy. I leaned over and rubbed my cheek against his rough jawline.
We were startled by the sound of a man clearing his throat behind us. I turned to see a spitting image of Dale, but it wasn’t him. The man I was looking at was older, with more gray hair, and slightly overweight.
“Dad?” Nate said.
“Sorry to interrupt. Where is everyone?”
I immediately bolted up from Nate’s lap and stood next to him awkwardly.
“They’re in town. What are you doing here?”
He walked toward us. “What a nice, polite welcome. Have you learned nothing out here?” He chuckled and the heaviness of the moment was lifted.
Nate stood and hugged his father. Turning toward me, he said, “This is Ava McCrea. Ava, this is Dr. Jeffrey Meyers, the head of cardiothoracic surgery and—”
“More importantly, I’m Nate’s dad. You can call me Jeff,” Nate’s father interjected.
I reached my hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
“Dad, Ava made pasta. It’s delicious. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving. That sounds perfect.”
“I’ll get a plate for you. Have a seat,” I said nervously.