A Friendly Encounter Page 2

  He gives me a look, setting the glass down and grabbing another. “I wasn’t finished. You’re sitting here, spending your night with me, refusing to dance and enjoy the evening. I’d guess that you’re hiding from the matriarchal group that stands next to the buffet table.” I glance across the room, finding my Mom, Aunts, and Grandmother.

  A laugh bursts out of me. Damn if he’s not right on that one. “Okay. You got me.” He chuckles lightly. “I’ve also noticed the groom’s brother has glanced at you a hundred times and each time you avoid eye contact. I’m guessing, since you’re not interested in him, and a friend brought you here, you may have one of those relationships that state on social media, it’s complicated.” I narrow my eyes at him as he chuckles. “I take it I’m right.” I don’t respond, merely picking my empty glass up. He snatches it and quickly replaces it with a filled glass. I know I should stop drinking, but damn if I don’t want to feel the effects alcohol has on easing my mind.

  “And, you know what?” I sway slightly on the bar stool an hour later. “Remington’s probably out with another woman right now.” I roll my eyes, picking up my empty glass and thrusting it toward Dave. He takes the glass, giving me a sad smile. “I think you’ve had enough.” I nod in agreement to both of him.

  I let my shoulders slump, looking up to the ceiling. “Why do I keep dealing with him?” A heavy sigh escapes me. “Is he your first love?” I pull my head down, looking at Dave. “Yep. As usual, you hit the nail on the hammer.” He lets out a light laugh. Leaning his elbows on the bar he looks at me head on. “Why do you keep dealing with him? From what you’ve told me tonight, he sounds like a complete asshole.”

  I laugh. Of course he’s an asshole. How couldn’t he be an asshole to stand me up tonight? Or every other occasion he’s promised to attend. An arm slides around my shoulders and I glance up to Blake grinning down at me. “Let’s get you home, Abbi.” I give him a salute, almost toppling off the bar stool as I do, but he quickly rights me. I giggle loudly, leaning into his side as he helps me off the stool and picks up my pink stilettos from the floor.

  As we walk away, I glance over my shoulder, giving Dave a drunken smile and a wave. “Bye!” He gives me a polite nod, going back to the other people that had joined us at the bar. I stumble slightly, Blake dropping his hand from around my shoulder to grip around my waist to better steady me. “How much did you have to drink?” I put my hand in front of his face, pinching my thumb and forefinger together.

  He lets out a scoff as he shakes his head. Once we’re outside, standing in front of the building he hands me my shoes. I lift one foot, attempting to balance to slip it on to walk across the parking lot. He laughs loudly, as I stumble around. I glance up to him, a scowl on my face. “I’ve seen you in worse shape. Don’t forget the stories I have.”

  He rolls his eyes before bending at his knees and placing his arm behind my legs. Quickly he picks me up, cradling me in his arms. I throw my arms back, letting them float behind me as I stare at the upside-down terrain. “You looked like a drunk flamingo back there.”

  I’d like to slap him in the arm as he laughs at his own assessment, but that would be too much effort for the moment. He stops, opening his truck door and sliding me into the passenger seat. “If you puke in my truck, I’m going to kill you.” I wave a hand at him in annoyance as he closes the door. Leaning my head against the cool glass, my eyes close instantly.

  Chapter 2

  My eyes open slowly as I hear a knock. I glance around my bedroom, noticing the light streaming through the window. I gingerly sit up as I hear another knock, gripping my throbbing head in my hand. I glance down at myself, realizing I’m still in the hot pink, bridesmaid dress I wore last night. Somewhere in the distance I hear my phone ringing.

  With a groan, I walk out of the bedroom toward the incessant knocking at the door. I pull it open just an inch, peering out with my eyes barely opened. Blake holds up a bag and two coffees in a travel container. “Thought you could use a delivery.” I push the door open further, turning my back to him and walking into my kitchen. I step over to the drawer that holds medicine, riffling through until I find a bottle of pain killers.

  He places the bag and coffees on the table, turning back to me with a shit eating grin. I narrow my eyes at him. “What?” He gives a shrug as he pulls the chair out from under the table. The scraping sound making me pinch my eyes shut and grip my head. I walk over to the table, taking the seat opposite of him as he removes takeout containers from the bag.

  My stomach protests at the thought of food, but I know it’s the only way I’ll start to feel better. “So, you and the bartender seemed rather close last night.” I roll my eyes, taking the container that he slides toward me. “The bartender’s husband wouldn’t like that.” I open the box to find my favorite breakfast dish from the diner in town.

  Blake slides a plastic fork toward me, and I quickly unwrap it. Just as I bring a bite of hash browns to my mouth, I glance over to him, noticing a look of concern on his face. “I was really hoping you’d hit it off with him so you could get off the Rem train.” He shakes his head slightly as he opens his box, taking a large bite of biscuits and gravy.

  This is the second time he’s said something negative about Rem and I being together, and it’s unusual. I finish chewing and place my fork down, watching him with a questioning stare as he plows through his food. He glances up between bites, his fork hanging in midair and his mouth wide open. He closes his eyes, letting out a sigh as he puts his fork down.

  “Let’s get this over with so I can eat.” I let out a sigh of my own, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why are you suddenly against me and Rem being together?” He sits back in his chair, raking his hand over his face. He pushes the chair back and sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at me with a remorseful look. “Y’all ain’t together, Abs.”

  I instantly drop my gaze to my lap, not wanting to meet his eyes. He reaches forward, placing a hand on my bare knee. I look up to him as tears sting my eyes at his true words. “You know Remington has been my best friend since, well, forever, but the way he treats you ain’t right. I’ve wanted to say something for a long time.” A big, fat, tear slides down my cheek, and I quickly reach a hand up to wipe it away.

  “Aw, Abs.” He stands, pulling me up and cradling me against his chest. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and focusing on not crying. Running his hand along my back slowly, he squeezes me tightly. “You deserve so much better. Any man would be an idiot not to want to be with you.” He pulls back, placing his hands on my shoulders and dropping his head until he’s eye level with me.

  “You know you deserve better, and you know Remington’s never going to change. Right now, he’s having his cake and eating it too, and you’re letting him do it. You know that.” I close my eyes, nodding in agreement. He pulls me back to his chest and I circle my arms around his trim waist, resting my cheek against his chest. “I just want what’s best for both of y’all. I want you both to be happy, and this ain’t happy for you.”

  Fresh tears sting my eyes. I let out a heavy sigh. “You know, for an ass you can be alright.” He chuckles against me, my head bobbing as a small smile spreads across my lips. He let’s out another sigh, resting his chin on the top of my head. “I just want you to find someone that makes you happy, Abbi. I know you had big plans of your future with Rem, but I don’t see that happening.”

  I nod slightly. I’ve known it for years now, I’ve just been too afraid to admit it to myself or anyone else. Even though our relationship is different, I could still fall back on the familiar. I tilt my head, looking up to him with a grin. “Well, you want to go out on a date sometime?” He throws his head back laughing as I join. He was my first kiss at twelve years old, and even then, it felt like kissing a relative. I know he’ll always be in my life, but not romantically.

  “Nope. I still shudder when I think of that kiss.” He grimaces as I slap his chest playfully. We both sit back at the
table, resuming our meal. I look over as he takes a large bite of food. “Just think about what I said.” I nod as I take a bite of my nearly cold omelet.

  A few hours later I sit in my bathtub, a romance novel in hand and the relaxing aromas of eucalyptus easing my hangover. I glance over at my phone as it begins to ring on the side of the tub. Wiping my hand on a towel, I pull it over to me, seeing it’s my boss calling. I scrunch my forehead as I pull it to my ear. It’s unusual for her to call me on the weekend. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Abbi. I’m sorry to call you on Sunday, but I’ve got a new patient and I have no one that can be there tomorrow.” I smile slightly. I may not have my romantic life together, but I know my stuff when it comes to my job. “Of course. I’m sure I can fit one more in.”

  She lets out a relieved sigh over the line. “I can always count on you. I just received the order a few moments ago. Amy and Rebecca won’t take anyone else, so you’re my only hope.” I sink further into the water, letting the warm water slosh over my shoulders. “What’s the details?”

  “Seventy-year-old man. He broke his hip while outside. He’s signed himself out of rehab early. He’ll be going home tomorrow and will need someone to go by once a day, Monday through Friday, for the next twelve weeks.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth. My schedule is already twice what Amy and Rebecca’s are, but I’ll find a way to make it happen. I always do for my patients.

  “Ok. I won’t be able to go at the same time each day, but I’ll make it work. Email me the info and I’ll go out first thing tomorrow.” I can practically see the smile on Donna’s face. “You’re a lifesaver, Abbi. And a damn fine nurse. I’m emailing you now.” With that, she hangs up and I slide my phone to the edge of the tub to enjoy the rest of my bath.

  I spend the rest of the day preparing for the coming workweek. Laundry, meal prep, general cleaning, and trying like hell not to think about Remington, who I still haven’t heard from since Thursday evening.

  Just as I sit back on the couch with a bowl of salad and the remote to the TV, I hear the familiar turn of the key in the front door. I glance over my shoulder just as Remington strides in the living room, closing the door behind him loudly. He leans over the back of the couch, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. “What you got to eat?”

  I roll my eyes as he walks into the kitchen, pulling the refrigerator open. I hold the remote up, turning on a romantic comedy that I’ve been wanting to watch. I feel the couch sag down next to me as he takes a seat, kicking off his boots and placing his feet on the coffee table as he cracks open a beer.

  He picks up the remote at my side, changing it to some sports talk show. I clear my throat and he looks over at me. “You realize you don’t live here?” He gives me a puzzled look as I raise one eyebrow. “Yeah? I always watch this when I’m here.” I let out a sigh, sitting forward and placing my bowl of salad on the coffee table in front of us. “Maybe I’m tired of what normally happens.”

  He lets out a groan, dropping his head back to rest on the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling. “I really don’t feel like this shit. It’s been a long weekend.” I fold my arms over my chest, glaring at him. “Standing me up for Gina’s wedding to go out with bimbo of the week? I’m sure that must be exhausting.”

  He drops his head, at least having the decency to look remorseful as he stands from the couch, slipping his feet in his boots. “We have an understanding. I enjoy being with you, but I’m not ready to settle down and build the white picket fence. I’m focusing on my music right now.” I roll my eyes, reaching over and grabbing the remote to turn it back to the movie.

  Leaning forward, I snatch my bowl off the table. “I’ve never wanted you not to focus on your music. Just maybe you could focus on me too.” I blink my eyes rapidly, refusing to let myself cry. I swallow over the lump in my throat and stare at the TV behind him, not wanting to meet his gaze.

  He scoffs loudly, walking around the couch to the door. “I’ll call you in a few days when you’ve had time to get over this little temper tantrum.” My mouth drops open at his words, but before I can respond, he walks out, slamming the front door behind him. I glance out the window, watching the man I’ve loved for so long climb into his truck and speed away as tears slide down my cheeks.

  After a few minutes, I force myself to start the movie and go back to my salad, but try as I might, I can’t stop thinking about Remington. I pick up my phone from the coffee table, typing out a text and deleting it several times. “No.” I toss the phone to the table and start the movie again. I’m not going to apologize because I’m not happy with this arrangement.

  The only reason I even agreed to this five years ago was the hope that he would sow his wild oats and we’d live happily ever after. I let out a heavy sigh as I swing my legs from the couch to the floor. I turn the TV off and grab the bowl of half eaten salad from the coffee table. Luckily for me, I’m exhausted after my late night last night, so I’ll just go to bed early. After an hour of tossing and turning I finally drift off to fitful sleep. Even my subconscious can’t stop thinking about Remington.

  I wake up the next morning feeling no more refreshed than when I went to bed. But my patients need me, and I always come through for them. I’d always wanted to be a nurse growing up. I worked two jobs in college and still managed to graduate at the top of my class. I smile at myself in the mirror as I pull my long, blond hair into a low ponytail. It’s an accomplishment I’ve always been proud of myself for.

  On my way through the kitchen, I grab a few apples and granola bars, knowing I’ll probably have no time for lunch with my large patient load. I had worked at the local hospital for six months after becoming a registered nurse before Donna, my now boss, had approached me with a job offer.

  At first, I was hesitant. I didn’t know if home healthcare would be a fit for me, but now? I can’t see myself ever doing anything else. I love being able to help people recover in the comfort of their own homes, and I love the bonds I form with them. I pile my snacks in my purse and start for the door. Ready to meet my newest patient.

  I type Mr. Russell’s address into my GPS and back my car out of the driveway. I’m bobbing my head to the music coming from the speakers, singing off key, when my phone rings. I glance over at my phone lying on the passenger seat. A picture of Blake with his arm around my neck while ruffling my hair as we both laugh wildly stares back at me. I pick it up, answering. “Hey, Blake.”

  “You still having a temper tantrum?” I can see the shit eating grin on his face in my mind. “I take it he called you to do some whispering?” He laughs over the line, causing me to smile. “I’m not known as the Abigail whisperer for nothing.” I smile sadly. Ever since high school, if Remington and I had a problem, Blake and I were usually the ones to resolve it. Hence how he got the title Abigail whisperer. Even back then, Rem was an absent boyfriend.

  “Whatcha up to?” I clear my throat as I glance at the GPS on my dash. “New patient meeting this morning.” He lets out a low whistle. “Another one? You barely have time to eat or sleep as it is.” I sigh, knowing he’s right, but what can I do? “I know, but Amy and Rebecca refused to take on another patient.”

  “You have three times the number of patients they do.” I give a little shrug as I turn off the road onto a gravel driveway. “I know, I know, but I can’t let this man go without just because they have no work ethic.” He mumbles about them being lazy before I interrupt him. “I gotta go. I just pulled up.”

  “Alright. Call me later. Maybe we can grab dinner one night this week.” I make promises to meet him for dinner the first night I get off work at a decent time and hang up the call, turning my phone to silent and slipping it in my pocket. I step out of the car, running my hands down my black scrubs as I walk toward the porch of the farmhouse style home.

  I knock on the door and wait. After a brief minute the door opens a few inches. A gray-haired woman looks up at me. I give her a bright smile and a little wave of my hand. “Are you Mrs. Ru
ssell?” She opens the door further, looking me over. Her eyes stop on my own and she gives me a kind smile. “You must be the nurse that’s going to take care of Arnold.”

  I nod my head as I offer her my hand. “Yes, mam. I’m Abigail Knowles, but everyone calls me Abbi.” She rests her hand in my own, cupping our hands with her other. “I’m so happy we got you.” She leans toward me, lifting her hand and cupping it to her mouth in a conspiratorial way, even though we’re the only two people in sight. “I’ve heard those other gals you work with are lazier than the furniture.” I chuckle lightly, knowing she speaks the truth, but I’ll never say so in front of a client.

  “Well, I’m glad I got you too.” She gives my hand a pat before dropping it and I step inside, her gesturing for me to go ahead. I glance around the living room, instantly reminded of my great grandparent’s home before they both passed.

  Everything is dated, but well kept. An Afghan hangs over the couch, and a bag of yarn sits next to a chair in the corner of the room. She steps around me, starting to shuffle toward the hallway that I assume leads to the bedrooms in the house. “Arnold is back yonder.” She pauses, turning to me with a hesitant smile. “I should warn you. He’s not too happy with having a stranger coming in and taking care of him.”

  I give her a sympathetic smile, reaching between us and placing my hand on her forearm lightly. “He wouldn’t be my first, and I can assure you, he won’t be my last. But I’ll do everything I can to win him over.” I wink at her and she smiles before turning and slowly moving down the hall as I follow behind. She taps on the first door on the right before pushing it open.

  We’re both assaulted with a TV blaring the local news. “Arnold. Arnold!” She shuffles toward him as he grunts. Grabbing the remote and muting the TV he turns his gaze our way, his eyebrows drawn together. “Why you yellin, Agnus?” She glances at me over her shoulder, giving me an eye roll and I have to stifle a giggle. I can imagine they’ve been together for longer than most people my age can fathom.