“Sure thing.” The attendant leaves to fetch my car and I check my watch. It’s after four. She should be home from school by now, shouldn’t she?
My car arrives and I make my way carefully down the narrow mountain road. If I fall over the embankment, I’ll never get to Grace.
I finally pull up to her small house in a quiet, well-kept neighborhood and cut my engine, watching the house.
I’ve turned into a bloody stalker.
I shake my head as I climb out of the car and make my way up the sidewalk to her front porch. I ring the bell and wait. The house seems to be still. Maybe she’s not home yet? I ring the bell again and hear footsteps in the house, then an angry meow and a loud thud.
“Motherfucker!”
chapter 10
Grace
This has been the day from hell. I really need to climb into bed and stay there before I break a bone or knock myself out.
I gently touch my cheek and wince as the pain shoots through my head. I pull into my driveway and frown when I see Hannah’s car also sitting in the drive. She’s never usually home at this time on a weekday. As Cunningham Falls’ newest OB/GYN physician, she works long hours.
Sometimes I forget I even have a roommate.
I trudge through the snow up to my porch and trip on the top step, sending me headlong into the door. I barely catch myself with my hand, but still manage to scrape my palm.
“Fucking A, this day sucks,” I mutter between clenched teeth, and push my way inside.
“Grace?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” I toss my keys onto a table by the door and toe my boots off before walking into the living room. “What are you doing home so early?”
“I just ran home to change my clothes,” she replies as she smooths her red hair into a ponytail. “I had a messy delivery.”
“Gross, I don’t want to know.” I shake my head and drop onto the couch.
“What happened to your cheek?”
I shrug one shoulder and don’t answer her.
“Grace, let me look at that.”
“It’s just a bruise.”
“No, it’s not. There’s a cut there, too. Come here.”
“If I move I’ll probably end up flat on my ass for the fourth time today, and I just don’t have the energy to get back up.”
“Come on, friend.” Hannah helps me to my feet and leads me to her small bathroom. “I’m just going to clean it up a bit. It doesn’t need a bandage.”
“It hurts like a bitch.”
“I’m sure it does. How did it happen?” She dampens some cotton balls with peroxide and dabs the cut. I suck my breath in through my teeth. “Sorry,” she murmurs.
“It doesn’t matter how it happened.”
“Wow, you’ve been a bitch to live with all week, Grace. Wanna talk about it?”
I hang my head in my hands and sigh deeply. “I’m sorry, Han. I don’t mean to take my mood out on you. Just kick me and tell me to stop being a bitch.”
“I’d rather talk with you about what’s wrong. This is so unlike you.”
“I can’t always be Miss Roses and Sunshine,” I snap and then slap my hand over my mouth in horror. “Jesus, I’m sorry!”
“See? Bitch.”
“I kind of miss Jacob.”
“He’s right at the top of that mountain,” she reminds me, and points toward Whitetail Mountain.
“I know.”
“So go up there.”
“No, it was just a weekend fling.”
“Right.” She shakes her head and puts the peroxide back under the sink. “I think you should try dating him, but I don’t have the best track record when it comes to men, so you can take that advice or leave it. I do know this: do what makes you happy because, girl, you’re miserable. And you don’t deserve that.”
I wrap my arms around the pretty redhead and hug her close. “Thank you for being the best roomie ever.”
“You’re welcome. I’d suggest a nap, but that blow to the head looks like it could have resulted in a concussion.” She narrows her eyes and peers deeply into my own eyes. “Look up at the light.” I comply and sit patiently as she looks me over.
“There are benefits to living with a doctor.”
“I’ll send you a bill,” Hannah murmurs with a grin. “Nope, no concussion. You should take a nap.”
“Good idea. You headed back to work?”
“Yes. I have one other woman laboring and a few more appointments this afternoon.”
“Ugh, I don’t know how you can work around all of those bodily fluids.” I shiver and follow her out of the bathroom. “See you later.”
“Bye!”
Meow. Slater, Hannah’s old cat, winds his way between my legs, purring and begging to be picked up.
“You’re going to trip me one of these days, you little terrorist.” I pick him up and nuzzle his head and carry him into my bedroom with me. I quickly pull on an oversize T-shirt and climb into bed. Slater joins me, purring happily as I drift off to sleep.
Dingdong!
I wake up and look about the room groggily. There are two kinds of naps, the kind where you wake up refreshed and rested, and the kind where you wake up with dry mouth, drool on your cheek, and not entirely sure what year you’re in.