Maybe Now
Page 54
It wouldn’t say, “Make love to Jake Griffin” or “Marry Jake Griffin.”
The entire tenth item on my bucket list would simply be his name, almost as if I could somehow accomplish him as a whole.
Item number ten to accomplish:
Jake Griffin.
When people ask me why I became a doctor, which is quite a common question, I give them the quintessential answer: I want to save lives. I want to make a difference. I like helping people.
It’s all bullshit.
I became a doctor because I love adrenaline.
Of course, the other answers are true as well. But the main reason is adrenaline. I love being the difference between a life or death situation. I love the rush I get when my skills are put to the test against a rapidly failing organ. I love the satisfaction I get when I win.
I was born competitive.
But there’s a difference between being competitive and being in competition with someone else. I’m not competitive against other doctors or other people. I’m only competitive against myself. I’m in a constant battle to improve my own skillset in everything I do, whether that’s in the operating room, jumping out of an airplane, or being the absolute best father I can be to Justice. I’m always on a quest to be a better me tomorrow than I was yesterday. It’s never been about competing with anyone other than myself.
Until this moment. Because in this particular moment, I find myself hoping Ridge doesn’t measure up to me. I haven’t even met him yet, but I’ve never been in a situation where I’m about to meet the ex-boyfriend of the girl I’m interested in. It’s not something I was prepared to do today. Or ever. When I started dating Chrissy in high school, I was her first legitimate boyfriend. I was her first kiss. Her first date. Her first everything. And considering we spent more than ten years together after that, I’ve never had to deal with feeling competitive with another man.
I’m not sure I like it.
When Maggie mentioned Ridge for the first time on our date, she talked about how he met someone else while he was dating her, which is ultimately what led to their breakup. I don’t know the guy, but that was an automatic strike against him in my book. She also mentioned he writes music for a band, which is another strike against him. Not that being in a band is a bad thing, but it’s hard to compete with a musician, even when you’re a doctor.
What little she did say about Ridge gave me the impression that she doesn’t regret the demise of their relationship. But it’s still slightly uncomfortable knowing this is his apartment. Maggie is his ex. I’m about to spend the day with his friends. I can’t imagine many guys being okay with their ex bringing along a new guy, so unless he’s some kind of saint, I probably have good reason to suddenly be on edge. I don’t like that I’m experiencing jealousy over a girl for the first time, and I haven’t even met the guy who is the cause of my irrational jealousy.
But that’s about to change because we’re walking out of Maggie’s bedroom now, specifically for introductions. I open the door and step aside so that Maggie can walk out of her bedroom first. She looks up at me as she passes, and she smiles with a hint of calm appreciation in her eyes, despite her own nervousness.
It’s the same look she gave me when I was helping her with her skydiving paperwork the first day we met. She was a ball of nervous energy—enough for me to have felt it from all the way across the room. But as soon as I sat down next to her, she somehow smiled at me with an appreciative look in her eyes that made me feel as though I were in the process of jumping out of that plane with her. She says a lot without saying anything. I’ve never met anyone whose expressions hold entire conversations.
Right now, her expression is saying, “This is awkward, I know. But it’ll be fine.”
She leaves her bedroom door open and walks ahead of me across the living room. There’s a guy standing in the kitchen with his back to us. I can’t tell from this view, but it looks like he may be on his phone. There’s a blond girl standing near the bar, slipping into a pair of shoes. She glances up as soon as she hears us exiting Maggie’s bedroom. Her whole face lights up when she sees me next to Maggie.
Maggie waves her hand toward her. “Jake, this is Sydney.”
Sydney continues twisting her shoe into the carpet to get it on her foot. Once she does, she walks over to me, half-hopping as she extends her hand. “It’s so good to meet you,” she says, pulling on the other shoe.
I return her handshake. “You, too.”
Maggie mentioned Sydney’s name to me earlier, and that she’s Ridge’s current girlfriend. I’m not sure how this scenario played out, but Maggie and Sydney seem to get along, which says a lot about them as individuals. And there’s something about Sydney that feels genuine. I like her almost immediately.
I can’t say the same for the guy behind her in the kitchen with his back still to us. He’s obviously completely uninterested in introductions. I can only assume this is Ridge, but before I can put too much thought into what his reaction means and how this is definitely a competitive move on his part, two people walk out of one of the other rooms.
Based on Maggie’s passing, almost agitated look as she turns to face them, I can only assume the guy walking toward me is Warren. The gleam in his eyes screams mischief, and Maggie did mention Warren’s sole purpose today is to embarrass her.
He’s holding his arms out as he makes his way over to me. He pulls me in for a hug. I reluctantly hug him back. I’m not sure I’ve been greeted with a hug from another guy in years. In my occupation, it’s handshakes and professional introductions and inquiries about which golf course you prefer to frequent on Sundays.
It isn’t bear hugs and pats on the cheeks.
This guy is actually patting my cheeks.
“Wow,” he says. “You are really good-looking.” He glances at Maggie. “Good job, Maggot. He looks like Captain America.”
I laugh and back up a step, not sure if embarrassing Maggie is his sole intention. I think he wants to embarrass both of us.
“Warren, this is Jake,” Maggie says, already appearing exhausted with him.
Warren salutes me. “Good to meet you, Jake.”
With as much enthusiasm as Warren is showing, the other guy is still showing none. He continues to ignore the situation, completely uninterested that I’m here. Maybe this is why Maggie warned me. Because I’m not exactly welcome by everyone.
I give my full attention back to Warren. “Good to meet you, too.”
Warren points at the brunette standing next to him. “This is my girlfriend, Bridgette.”
She doesn’t say anything to me. She just nods and walks to the refrigerator.
Warren points at Ridge. “Did you meet Ridge already?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.” I’m not sure I want to meet Ridge at this point. He obviously has no interest in meeting me.
Warren closes the distance between himself and the kitchen and taps Ridge on the shoulder. When Ridge turns, Warren begins to sign at the same time he says, “Jake is here.” Ridge spins around and finally makes eye contact with me.
I always teach Justice not to make assumptions about people. Yet here I am…being an assumptive asshole. Ridge isn’t bothered that I’m here. He didn’t know I was here.
He walks around the bar, closing the distance between us. “Hi,” he says, shaking my hand. “Ridge Lawson.” His voice is a clear indicator that he wasn’t intentionally ignoring me and that I am, in fact, an assumptive asshole.
I return his handshake with relief. “Jake Griffin.”
I don’t know if Maggie intentionally left out that Ridge is deaf, or if his deafness is their norm and she just didn’t think to mention it. Either way, I’m relieved by it, because five seconds ago I was ready to call it a day when I assumed I was intruding, but now his genuine welcome is as comforting as Sydney’s.
I no longer harbor the competitive, jealous feelings I was attempting to suppress on the way out of Maggie’s bedroom. I don’t know the history between these people beyond what Maggie has shared, which isn’t much, but there doesn’t seem to be any ill will between any of them.
The entire tenth item on my bucket list would simply be his name, almost as if I could somehow accomplish him as a whole.
Item number ten to accomplish:
Jake Griffin.
When people ask me why I became a doctor, which is quite a common question, I give them the quintessential answer: I want to save lives. I want to make a difference. I like helping people.
It’s all bullshit.
I became a doctor because I love adrenaline.
Of course, the other answers are true as well. But the main reason is adrenaline. I love being the difference between a life or death situation. I love the rush I get when my skills are put to the test against a rapidly failing organ. I love the satisfaction I get when I win.
I was born competitive.
But there’s a difference between being competitive and being in competition with someone else. I’m not competitive against other doctors or other people. I’m only competitive against myself. I’m in a constant battle to improve my own skillset in everything I do, whether that’s in the operating room, jumping out of an airplane, or being the absolute best father I can be to Justice. I’m always on a quest to be a better me tomorrow than I was yesterday. It’s never been about competing with anyone other than myself.
Until this moment. Because in this particular moment, I find myself hoping Ridge doesn’t measure up to me. I haven’t even met him yet, but I’ve never been in a situation where I’m about to meet the ex-boyfriend of the girl I’m interested in. It’s not something I was prepared to do today. Or ever. When I started dating Chrissy in high school, I was her first legitimate boyfriend. I was her first kiss. Her first date. Her first everything. And considering we spent more than ten years together after that, I’ve never had to deal with feeling competitive with another man.
I’m not sure I like it.
When Maggie mentioned Ridge for the first time on our date, she talked about how he met someone else while he was dating her, which is ultimately what led to their breakup. I don’t know the guy, but that was an automatic strike against him in my book. She also mentioned he writes music for a band, which is another strike against him. Not that being in a band is a bad thing, but it’s hard to compete with a musician, even when you’re a doctor.
What little she did say about Ridge gave me the impression that she doesn’t regret the demise of their relationship. But it’s still slightly uncomfortable knowing this is his apartment. Maggie is his ex. I’m about to spend the day with his friends. I can’t imagine many guys being okay with their ex bringing along a new guy, so unless he’s some kind of saint, I probably have good reason to suddenly be on edge. I don’t like that I’m experiencing jealousy over a girl for the first time, and I haven’t even met the guy who is the cause of my irrational jealousy.
But that’s about to change because we’re walking out of Maggie’s bedroom now, specifically for introductions. I open the door and step aside so that Maggie can walk out of her bedroom first. She looks up at me as she passes, and she smiles with a hint of calm appreciation in her eyes, despite her own nervousness.
It’s the same look she gave me when I was helping her with her skydiving paperwork the first day we met. She was a ball of nervous energy—enough for me to have felt it from all the way across the room. But as soon as I sat down next to her, she somehow smiled at me with an appreciative look in her eyes that made me feel as though I were in the process of jumping out of that plane with her. She says a lot without saying anything. I’ve never met anyone whose expressions hold entire conversations.
Right now, her expression is saying, “This is awkward, I know. But it’ll be fine.”
She leaves her bedroom door open and walks ahead of me across the living room. There’s a guy standing in the kitchen with his back to us. I can’t tell from this view, but it looks like he may be on his phone. There’s a blond girl standing near the bar, slipping into a pair of shoes. She glances up as soon as she hears us exiting Maggie’s bedroom. Her whole face lights up when she sees me next to Maggie.
Maggie waves her hand toward her. “Jake, this is Sydney.”
Sydney continues twisting her shoe into the carpet to get it on her foot. Once she does, she walks over to me, half-hopping as she extends her hand. “It’s so good to meet you,” she says, pulling on the other shoe.
I return her handshake. “You, too.”
Maggie mentioned Sydney’s name to me earlier, and that she’s Ridge’s current girlfriend. I’m not sure how this scenario played out, but Maggie and Sydney seem to get along, which says a lot about them as individuals. And there’s something about Sydney that feels genuine. I like her almost immediately.
I can’t say the same for the guy behind her in the kitchen with his back still to us. He’s obviously completely uninterested in introductions. I can only assume this is Ridge, but before I can put too much thought into what his reaction means and how this is definitely a competitive move on his part, two people walk out of one of the other rooms.
Based on Maggie’s passing, almost agitated look as she turns to face them, I can only assume the guy walking toward me is Warren. The gleam in his eyes screams mischief, and Maggie did mention Warren’s sole purpose today is to embarrass her.
He’s holding his arms out as he makes his way over to me. He pulls me in for a hug. I reluctantly hug him back. I’m not sure I’ve been greeted with a hug from another guy in years. In my occupation, it’s handshakes and professional introductions and inquiries about which golf course you prefer to frequent on Sundays.
It isn’t bear hugs and pats on the cheeks.
This guy is actually patting my cheeks.
“Wow,” he says. “You are really good-looking.” He glances at Maggie. “Good job, Maggot. He looks like Captain America.”
I laugh and back up a step, not sure if embarrassing Maggie is his sole intention. I think he wants to embarrass both of us.
“Warren, this is Jake,” Maggie says, already appearing exhausted with him.
Warren salutes me. “Good to meet you, Jake.”
With as much enthusiasm as Warren is showing, the other guy is still showing none. He continues to ignore the situation, completely uninterested that I’m here. Maybe this is why Maggie warned me. Because I’m not exactly welcome by everyone.
I give my full attention back to Warren. “Good to meet you, too.”
Warren points at the brunette standing next to him. “This is my girlfriend, Bridgette.”
She doesn’t say anything to me. She just nods and walks to the refrigerator.
Warren points at Ridge. “Did you meet Ridge already?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.” I’m not sure I want to meet Ridge at this point. He obviously has no interest in meeting me.
Warren closes the distance between himself and the kitchen and taps Ridge on the shoulder. When Ridge turns, Warren begins to sign at the same time he says, “Jake is here.” Ridge spins around and finally makes eye contact with me.
I always teach Justice not to make assumptions about people. Yet here I am…being an assumptive asshole. Ridge isn’t bothered that I’m here. He didn’t know I was here.
He walks around the bar, closing the distance between us. “Hi,” he says, shaking my hand. “Ridge Lawson.” His voice is a clear indicator that he wasn’t intentionally ignoring me and that I am, in fact, an assumptive asshole.
I return his handshake with relief. “Jake Griffin.”
I don’t know if Maggie intentionally left out that Ridge is deaf, or if his deafness is their norm and she just didn’t think to mention it. Either way, I’m relieved by it, because five seconds ago I was ready to call it a day when I assumed I was intruding, but now his genuine welcome is as comforting as Sydney’s.
I no longer harbor the competitive, jealous feelings I was attempting to suppress on the way out of Maggie’s bedroom. I don’t know the history between these people beyond what Maggie has shared, which isn’t much, but there doesn’t seem to be any ill will between any of them.
