That’s all. Good for him.
I avert my eyes to the phone in my hand. “I brought this for you. It’s one of Addie’s from a few years ago. We can get something better, but this is what I had on hand, so…” He takes the box, his fingers brushing mine as he does.
In my peripheral vision, I see blue where I used to see skin, so he must have put on a shirt.
I exhale through my nose.
“Thanks,” he says, turning the box over, examining the package.
The room looks exactly as I left it a week ago. I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe a mess. Will seems like the messy type. But the only change from the last time I was here is a half-empty glass of water on the nightstand and an open paperback face down on the bed. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me today.”
“Where are we going?” he asks, looking up from the box to meet my eyes.
“Work.”
“No.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “You’ve been in this room for a week, and that’s not good for you. You need fresh air. Human interaction. Doctor’s orders.”
“I’ve been outside,” he challenges, matching my stance.
“Going to the vending machine doesn’t count.”
“Your parents asked me to look out for you,” I continue. “Letting you sit in a motel room and stare at the ceiling all day isn’t doing a great job of that, and I reallydon’twant to face the wrath of Joyce. You’d be doing me a favor, really.” His lip quirks up as he looks away, but I think I see the start of a smile.
It’s gone a moment later when he says, “People aren’t gonna want me there.” The words come out small, an admission of his reality, something I can’t even deny. I don’t know what the town would think if they walked into my office and saw the black sheep of our family sitting at the front desk.
But Will isn’t a bad guy. He made some bad decisions, yeah, but the thought that anyone would judge him when he’s trying to be better—
It bothers me more than I’d expected it to, considering I’ve been doing the same thing.
There’s just something about that kicked puppy look in his eyes that tugs on my heartstrings in a way it didn’t used to. Probably getting older, being a dad and all.
“It’s my practice,” I say. “If anyone has a problem, they can leave.”
He studies my face, and I get the feeling he’s looking for the catch. Some version of this that makes sense. Why a man who never particularly liked him is showing up and dragging him into the world.
When he finds the reason, I’d like him to let me know.
“Fine,” he says, moving toward the bathroom, pulling a pair of jeans out of his bag on the way. “Give me five minutes.”
“Take ten.”
He stops in the bathroom doorway and turns to look at me with a raised eyebrow. And when he closes the door, I hear a scoff that might sound like a laugh if I listen hard enough.
I listen to the shower run, and then he comes out in the jeans and the simple t-shirt he had on before, looking—
“Ready?” I say, pushing away any thoughts about his appearance.
He nods, pocketing his new phone. “Can we get breakfast on the way?”
I check my watch. My first patient is at nine, and the diner on Main Street is only a few minutes walk from the practice, so we should have plenty of time. “Sure,” I agree with a shrug.
The last thing I’m expecting from this solemn version of Will is for him to visibly perk up. Like the prospect of breakfast genuinely makes him happy. He turns the knob, tugging the door open, and I follow him out into the chilly autumn morning, making a mental note to bring him some better food.
This isn’t the sort of establishment I typically spend time in. It’s more for the younger crowd, with their vintage games and teenmusic. Addie and Emmett spend quite a bit of time here.
But the morning rush is filled with older folks while the teens are at school, and it is the best place in town for breakfast.
