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She blew out a breath and dropped my hand. “Now, get out of my car, bitch. I’m already late.”
I walked inside but watched at the window as Poppy rolled a dolly to the back of the hearse and lifted a blanket-wrapped blob inside. She slid the dolly in after it, then climbed into the back to secure the piece with Bungie cords for the ride to wherevershe was going. I’d peaked under the blanket last week and seen the work in progress, two girls made of clay, one larger than the other, their hands entwined. A pair of hearts, one large, one small, lay on a stretch of grass in front of them. I’d cried as soon as I pulled away the blanket, recognizing the moment I’d finally convinced Poppy to visit our father’s grave. I hoped her critique group had the same response, and she moved to the next step of casting it in plaster or metal. Until then, I had to pretend I hadn’t seen it.
Cal walked up as Poppy backed out of the driveway. He waved at her and started toward the house carrying a paper bag. He looked amazing in a pair of dark slacks and a blue button-down shirt open at the collar. He’d rolled up the sleeves, showing off his sculpted forearms. I took a few breaths, trying to calm down. I hadn’t been this nervous since I sat for my professional exams.
The doorbell rang, and I opened it so fast Cal probably knew I’d been watching for him. His eyes darkened as they traveled down my body. “Wow,” he said, biting his bottom lip. He shook his head and chuckled, then held out the bag.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, taking the bag with Wilson’s Pharmacy stamped on the front.
“I just realized I should have brought you flowers instead of those.”
I peered into the bag and laughed at the package of orthotic inserts. “I kept waiting for you to text me which ones to get.”
He gripped the back of his neck. “I wasn’t sure either, so I went to the pharmacy to check out the options. Since I was already there, I figured I should get the ones that looked best. I wanted you to have them as soon as possible. The receipt’s inside if you need a different size.”
“Thank you,” I said, clutching the bag to my chest. “That’s really thoughtful.”
He smiled and my stomach flipped.
“Ready?” he asked holding out his arm. I put the inserts on the hall table and grabbed the clutch, linking my arm with his.
“Are you ok to walk in those shoes?” he asked, frowning down at my sandals.
“Yes,” I said. “They have great arch support.” At least I think they did. They were definitely a step up from my flip flops. If Cal had his way, I’d be in old lady shoes, hiking boots, or sneakers.
“Ok,” he said, his brow still furrowed. “If the walk gets to be too much, I’ll run back and get the car.”
“I’m fine,” I said, giving his arm a squeeze. “It’s a beautiful night. Let’s enjoy it.”
We started off, our pace agonizingly slow.
“I’m not decrepit,” I said with a soft laugh. “Honestly, walking feels good. It’s only an issue after I’ve been sitting too long.”
Cal nodded. “That makes sense with a disc bulge or excision.”
“Hey,” I said, stopping in the middle of the street. “I appreciate the concern, Dr. Cardoso, but I’d rather enjoy a walk with Caleb.”
He laughed. “Sorry. I meant to thank you, by the way. Adam seemed pleased with your progress, all things considered. He hasn’t complimented me since everything with Avery went down. It gives me hope I’ll be able to hang onto my job.”
I had more important things to discuss than Avery Peterson, but I couldn’t shake her perfect face from my mind. “Do you think you can convince her to take down her reviews?”
Cal blew out a breath. “I hope so. Honestly, I’d rather not talk about her, especially with you.”
“Oh,” I said, my stomach sinking. “Sure.”
Cal glanced at me and frowned. “I said the wrong thing again, didn’t I?”
I waved my hand. “No, it’s fine.”
We turned onto Broad Street, and he stepped closer to wrap his arm around my waist. I relaxed into his touch.
“As long as Avery stops writing new reviews, I might be ok. Cam has gotten a ton of my former patients to write glowing reviews to help counteract the negative ones.”
“That’s fantastic,” I said, looking up at him. “I’ll write one when I get home.”
“You’re still my patient,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
I stopped walking, and he looked at me with concern. “What else am I?”
