The One Real Thing
Page 54
He had to hope he didn’t get trampled in the search.
For now, he focused on making her feel better, because lots of people reached their thirties and realized they weren’t happy with their career or their life in general. She wasn’t the first.
“You know what, Doc, your degree isn’t going anywhere. No matter what, you’re a doctor. So why not take some time out from it and try to find if there’s something else out there for you? If you decide you want to go back to being a doctor, then I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”
Jess smiled brightly at him, relief visible in that pretty smile. “You really think so?”
“Yeah. Nothing is set in stone, right?”
“Right.”
He watched her whole body seem to melt as the pent-up tension left her. She was studying his face in that intense way again, like she was memorizing him.
“What?” he murmured, his blood turning more than a little hot as he thought about memorizing her all over in return.
“Tell me about your family,” she suddenly said.
Cooper stared into her big hazel eyes and saw longing in them. It wasn’t the kind of longing he’d been feeling a second before and he was suddenly really curious to know about her family. If that meant talking about his, then that was an easy way to get the info he wanted out of her. He realized he wanted to tell her about them anyway. Maybe it was stupid of him to trust a woman so soon after one had betrayed him, but Cooper didn’t ever want to get twisted and bitter over his ex’s behavior. He certainly didn’t want to mistake a good woman for another Dana Kellerman.
“My dad left when I was twelve” he said.
Sympathy brightened her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. The guy was an asshole. An abusive asshole.”
Jessica flinched. “Then I’m even more sorry.”
“I bet you’ve seen a lot of that in your line of work.”
“Unfortunately, yes. Quite a bit at the prison, actually. Old fractures, scars so multiple it’s a history of abuse mapped out on the body—the truth right there for me to see and yet they still lie to me about it.” She shook her head sadly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that your family ever had to deal with it.”
“My mom mostly,” he said, the familiar anger licking at his nerves. “She did the right thing, though. She got help. The sheriff at the time was a man who’d been really good friends with my grandfather. He, uh . . . well . . . let’s just say he did what he had to, to get the message over to my dad that he was no longer welcome in Hartwell.” He narrowed his eyes, remembering their conversation about his mother’s cousin. “There were options open to my mother. She made the right choice.”
Understanding instantly dawned on Jessica. “I get you,” she whispered.
He continued, “After he left, things got better. But they were also hard. It was just me, my mother, and my baby sister, Catriona. Mom had inherited the bar from my uncle who’d passed, and she never liked it much. She kept the management on and they ran it for her, but it wasn’t what it could be. For a place on the boardwalk it was kind of a dive. I was always trying to find ways to make money and so I worked a lot and missed out on a lot of school. Graduated with my GED and got a job working as a mechanic in Uly’s Garage. Mom worked as a grocery store clerk. We worked our asses off so Cat didn’t have to. Mom gave the bar to both of us, but Cat let me buy her out years ago. She had no passion for it. She wanted college. She was a smart kid. We wanted college for her, too. She wanted to be prelaw and, smart cookie that she is, she got into UPenn.”
“That’s amazing. And partly because of you.” There was open admiration in Jessica’s expression.
He liked that, but he wasn’t taking credit for Cat’s hard work. “It was all her. She worked hard in high school and didn’t have much of a social life. But she got to college and . . . I don’t know.” He sighed. “I don’t know if it was too much pressure or what . . . She got a little wild. She called me about a pregnancy scare her freshman year and I hoped the scare and my reaction to the scare would be enough to keep her on the straight and narrow.”
Jess made a face. “It didn’t.”
“It didn’t.” He still remembered how he’d felt when she told him she had to quit college because she was pregnant. “She was twenty years old. She came home for the summer. Got shit-faced and knocked up by a tourist whose name she couldn’t remember.”
“Oh boy.”
“Yeah. But I had to come around fast because our mother was so disappointed she didn’t speak to Cat for the first five months of her pregnancy.”
“Double oh boy.”
He gave a huff of laughter. “Yeah.”
“But then Joey came along.”
“Joseph Cooper Lawson.” He grinned just thinking about the kid. “Even smarter than his mom. And you can bet his grandmother was more gaga over that kid than anyone. She got over her disappointment quick first time she held him in her arms.”
Jessica was quiet a moment as she studied him. She said, her voice soft, “And how long did she get to enjoy him?”
That sharp sting of sadness pricked him. “Not long, Doc. Only a few years before the cancer claimed her.”
“You were close.”
“Extremely. It was like the world ended for a while.”
For now, he focused on making her feel better, because lots of people reached their thirties and realized they weren’t happy with their career or their life in general. She wasn’t the first.
“You know what, Doc, your degree isn’t going anywhere. No matter what, you’re a doctor. So why not take some time out from it and try to find if there’s something else out there for you? If you decide you want to go back to being a doctor, then I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”
Jess smiled brightly at him, relief visible in that pretty smile. “You really think so?”
“Yeah. Nothing is set in stone, right?”
“Right.”
He watched her whole body seem to melt as the pent-up tension left her. She was studying his face in that intense way again, like she was memorizing him.
“What?” he murmured, his blood turning more than a little hot as he thought about memorizing her all over in return.
“Tell me about your family,” she suddenly said.
Cooper stared into her big hazel eyes and saw longing in them. It wasn’t the kind of longing he’d been feeling a second before and he was suddenly really curious to know about her family. If that meant talking about his, then that was an easy way to get the info he wanted out of her. He realized he wanted to tell her about them anyway. Maybe it was stupid of him to trust a woman so soon after one had betrayed him, but Cooper didn’t ever want to get twisted and bitter over his ex’s behavior. He certainly didn’t want to mistake a good woman for another Dana Kellerman.
“My dad left when I was twelve” he said.
Sympathy brightened her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. The guy was an asshole. An abusive asshole.”
Jessica flinched. “Then I’m even more sorry.”
“I bet you’ve seen a lot of that in your line of work.”
“Unfortunately, yes. Quite a bit at the prison, actually. Old fractures, scars so multiple it’s a history of abuse mapped out on the body—the truth right there for me to see and yet they still lie to me about it.” She shook her head sadly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that your family ever had to deal with it.”
“My mom mostly,” he said, the familiar anger licking at his nerves. “She did the right thing, though. She got help. The sheriff at the time was a man who’d been really good friends with my grandfather. He, uh . . . well . . . let’s just say he did what he had to, to get the message over to my dad that he was no longer welcome in Hartwell.” He narrowed his eyes, remembering their conversation about his mother’s cousin. “There were options open to my mother. She made the right choice.”
Understanding instantly dawned on Jessica. “I get you,” she whispered.
He continued, “After he left, things got better. But they were also hard. It was just me, my mother, and my baby sister, Catriona. Mom had inherited the bar from my uncle who’d passed, and she never liked it much. She kept the management on and they ran it for her, but it wasn’t what it could be. For a place on the boardwalk it was kind of a dive. I was always trying to find ways to make money and so I worked a lot and missed out on a lot of school. Graduated with my GED and got a job working as a mechanic in Uly’s Garage. Mom worked as a grocery store clerk. We worked our asses off so Cat didn’t have to. Mom gave the bar to both of us, but Cat let me buy her out years ago. She had no passion for it. She wanted college. She was a smart kid. We wanted college for her, too. She wanted to be prelaw and, smart cookie that she is, she got into UPenn.”
“That’s amazing. And partly because of you.” There was open admiration in Jessica’s expression.
He liked that, but he wasn’t taking credit for Cat’s hard work. “It was all her. She worked hard in high school and didn’t have much of a social life. But she got to college and . . . I don’t know.” He sighed. “I don’t know if it was too much pressure or what . . . She got a little wild. She called me about a pregnancy scare her freshman year and I hoped the scare and my reaction to the scare would be enough to keep her on the straight and narrow.”
Jess made a face. “It didn’t.”
“It didn’t.” He still remembered how he’d felt when she told him she had to quit college because she was pregnant. “She was twenty years old. She came home for the summer. Got shit-faced and knocked up by a tourist whose name she couldn’t remember.”
“Oh boy.”
“Yeah. But I had to come around fast because our mother was so disappointed she didn’t speak to Cat for the first five months of her pregnancy.”
“Double oh boy.”
He gave a huff of laughter. “Yeah.”
“But then Joey came along.”
“Joseph Cooper Lawson.” He grinned just thinking about the kid. “Even smarter than his mom. And you can bet his grandmother was more gaga over that kid than anyone. She got over her disappointment quick first time she held him in her arms.”
Jessica was quiet a moment as she studied him. She said, her voice soft, “And how long did she get to enjoy him?”
That sharp sting of sadness pricked him. “Not long, Doc. Only a few years before the cancer claimed her.”
“You were close.”
“Extremely. It was like the world ended for a while.”
