Summer At The Shore

Jay scoffed. Because the idea of Aubrey’s boyfriend, big, strong, tough guy Eli Pelletier doing yoga was funny. “Did he say that? ‘Enhancing his overall fitness level’? You know I have to give him a hard time now, right? Besides, now that he’s going with you, I figured I was off the hook.”

“Why would Eli getting into better shape preclude you from wanting to do the same?”

“See what I’m dealing with?” He shot Mia a desperate look. “This woman is relentless.”

“Well, she is right about the yoga,” Mia said, standing. “It does amazing things for your body.”

“Ha.” Aubrey slapped him on the shoulder. “See?”

Without thinking it through he said, “Since your mom teaches, maybe I’ll have to give it a try.”

Mia’s eyes sparkled. “She would love that.”

Aubrey chimed in, “I’m holding you to that.”

“I didn’t mean it, Aubrey,” he quipped. “It’s just a polite thing you say in these kinds of situations.”

Mia laughed and the sound seeped into him, further improving his mood. She had the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh, too, even if you didn’t know what was funny.

“Thank you guys so much for stopping by. Mom will be thrilled when I tell her you were here.”

Aubrey hugged her. Not for the first time, Jay marveled at Aubrey’s ability to befriend people and make them feel comfortable.

Jay managed to articulate what he thought was a suitable goodbye, and as they walked down the hall toward the elevators he wondered how big of a fool he would make of himself at yoga class. Would the humiliation be worth seeing Mia Frasier again? There had to be another way... She was a vet. Maybe he could borrow a cat? Or a dog? Aubrey’s sister, Nina, had a dog. He could offer to dog-sit and then pretend the animal wasn’t feeling well. Pointless fantasies, he reminded himself. Especially where a woman like Mia Frasier was concerned. He’d really enjoy getting to know her, which meant he needed to keep her at arm’s length.

Aubrey interrupted his musing. “Are you going to ask her out?”

Jay wasn’t surprised by the question. Now that she and Eli were together, Aubrey was on a quest to find him a partner. “I already did. We’re going to Lincoln City for the weekend. We’re going to practice yoga on the beach and watch the sunset.”

She stopped, opened her mouth, snapped it shut, chuckled, smacked him on the shoulder and took off marching again. “Funny.”

He kept walking, but let out a laugh of his own as she called him a name under her breath. “Well, seriously, Aubrey. No, I didn’t ask her out. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You’re defensive.” With a smug look, she pulled open the door leading to the stairwell. “I know what that means.” She motioned him through. “You better be careful.”

“Careful?”

“Yes, careful. Because, despite your best efforts, one of these days a woman is going to come along and sweep you off your stubborn bachelor feet. You do know that, right? And it’s going to be someone like Mia Frasier—smart, funny, kind, beautiful, compassionate. You know she’s a vet, right? I’m talking about an animal doctor here and not a military veteran.”

“Yes, I know what she does for a living. What does that have to do with anything?”

Aubrey gave him that look she often did just before she called him dense. “She’s one of us, Jay. She’s a rescuer, a saver. It’s going to be someone like her that manages to get to you. And I, for one, cannot wait to see it happen. I know the reason you don’t get involved with women.”

He responded with his blankest stare as he wondered what she knew.

“You’re scared.”

And for a brief moment, he was. He was afraid that she’d somehow found out. Not that he was ashamed of his family necessarily. It was just...a lot to explain. And Jay didn’t like to explain. For his entire life, explanations had been met with judgments or pity or advice. This often led to “help” in some well-meaning form, most of which was usually not helpful. At all. A neglectful single mother made for a complicated and difficult childhood for him and his five younger siblings on the best of days. Add in the challenges of her mental illness and, well, it was more than most people could truly comprehend.

She went on, “I get that. I was scared, too. People like us, all type A and independent and stubborn, aren’t the best relationship material. Before Eli, I couldn’t imagine ever settling down. You don’t have me fooled, though. You don’t even give women a chance—one or two dates and you’re done. Down deep, I think you’re lonely. You need someone, and I want that for you.”

His answer was a long, slow blink. “That is so sweet,” he drawled in a syrupy tone. “So I can be like you and Eli, right? Long walks on the beach, holding hands, late-night talks. And eventually, when the time is right, some nest-building. You know, I want that, too.” He placed one hand on his chest. “So much. And I’m truly touched, Aubrey. The fact that you care about me this much—”

She punched him in the shoulder again, hard this time. “Shut up.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m telling you, I have a feeling about her.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he answered in his best unconcerned tone that didn’t at all match how he felt. Because he had some feelings, too. Aubrey was wrong about him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a nest. He did. He just couldn’t have one. Not now, and not for a very long time to come. But Aubrey’s assessment of Mia Frasier had only confirmed his own. That’s why he could never ask her out.

* * *

“HEY, MOM,” MIA said a couple days later as she bent and kissed her mom’s cheek. Nora was propped up in her hospital bed, her sky-blue eyes twinkling, her short black hair stylishly mussed. Bright pink slippers on feet crossed at the ankles stuck out from the blanket draped across her legs. “You look fantastic.”

“Hi, honey. Thank you, I’m feeling it. Those must be my discharge papers. Doc says I get to blow this Popsicle stand today.”

“Blow this Popsicle stand?” Even though her mom had kept improving, the doctors had opted to keep her for a couple extra days for observation. They were still unsure about the cause of her prolonged unconsciousness.

“Isn’t that right, Ty?” Nora looked over at the bed beside hers. It was occupied by a teenage girl with short, spiked blue hair. A cast stretched from just below her shoulder all the way down her arm and around her hand. The pastel purple cast bore evidence of visitors via an array of scribbled signatures covering its surface.

“That’s it, Mrs. K. You’re way live now. And this Instagram pic of your brain scan is lit. I wonder if I can get a copy of my X-ray?”

“Sure you can, this is America. Freedom of information and all that.” She looked back at Mia. “Ty’s been helping me with my street lingo. We’re homes.”

“Yeah,” she drawled. “I picked up on that. That’ll come in handy with your pinochle group in Pacific Cove. But I’m not sure the Freedom of Information Act really applies to medical records.”

“Are you even kidding me? That’s messed up.”

Mia rolled her eyes. Ty giggled.

A smiling young nurse with deep dimples, a long ponytail and colorful butterflies decorating her top came in pushing a wheelchair. Her name tag read Betsy. She stopped between the two beds and swiveled her head from one patient to the other.

“Hey, Bets,” Nora asked, “wha’s up?”

The nurse gave a breezy wave. “You know—same old, same old.”

“I hear that.”

Nurse Betsy chuckled. “We sure are going to miss you around here, Nora.” To Mia, she said, “It’s rare to get patients as entertaining as your mom. And these two together—” she gestured between the roommates “—could take their act on the road.” She asked Nora, “You ready to get out of here?”

“You know it.”

Betsy helped Nora get settled in the wheelchair while Mia gathered her mom’s belongings. When they were ready, Betsy began pushing her toward the door.

“Don’t forget to give me your John Hancock on the way out.” Ty waved a purple marker. To Mia she said, “That lingo thing is working both ways. I’m going to take some vintage vocab home to my squad.”

Betsy situated the chair so Nora could comply. Ty and Betsy both stared transfixed as her mom worked her magic with an assortment of colors. Mia understood their fascination. She had seen her mom draw a million times, yet she never seemed to get enough.