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When Papa had his stroke, my mother was so close to moving back to help him, but I offered instead. My horrible breakup was even more reason to get out of Sacramento, to the town that held so many good memories for me.
This town has been friendly and welcoming, but I feel the pity reek off them, like a stench from moldy garbage. I can’t stop thinking about Jackson and why he doesn’t leave the brewery. I don’t blame him. This town stares you down, and while most people haven’t connected Stephanie Abbott with me since my mom hasn’t been in town for so long, it’s only a matter of time before everyone knows and looks at me with pursed lips, no matter how much my grandfather shuts it down.
Fidgeting, I wonder how much this will cost me. Doctors are expensive, and I don’t have health insurance. Honestly, I can count on one hand the times I’ve been to the doctor. If this happened when I was a kid, my mom might’ve waited for me to foam at the mouth to take me, and even then, she might’ve not.
They administer the first shot of the rabies vaccine in my arm and advise me I have to come back three more times to finish the cycle. They clean the wound and dress it, and I now have a thick white bandage around my leg.
The doctor comes in and looks at the clipboard. “You work for the Finches’ brewery, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What is it with the Finches and raccoons?” He shakes his head. “We’ll see you back in three days for the next dose of your rabies treatment. Schedule your follow-up with Bonnie up front.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I say, hopping off the exam table.
I forget my acting as I leave, walking normally. When Jackson sees me, there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Whoa, whatever they gave me, I can walk,” I say. “It’s the craziest thing.”
He turns his head slightly, his eyelids narrowing to study me.Inhale, I tell myself, as he walks toward me, leaving me breathless.
“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I don’t have to carry you then.”
“Nope.” I flap my arms. “I’m out of the fainting danger zone. I do have to come back a few more times because of, you know, rabies.”
“We don’t want you to get that.” Is thatgenuineconcern?
No, we can’t think like this. A man showing common courtesy is the bare minimum.
“How much do you think the bill will be?” I whisper.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s on us.” He turns to Bonnie. “Bonnie, put it on our tab.”
“We can do that. Take care. Shiloh, tell your mother I said hi and that I hope she’s doing well.”
I smile and wave, and I cannot wait to get out of here.
“You sure you don’t need help?”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Bonnie is nice.”
“And nosy.”
“I feel like that Goldheart’s motto. Nice but nosy.”
Jackson purses out his bottom lip. “You hit the nail on the head. Did your mother rob a bank or something?”
I shake my head. “It’s a long story.”
“Fair,” he says, taking me to his truck and opening my door. “Can you get in?”
Technically, yes. However, it never hurts to ask for help. I believe in it with my whole heart.
It’s not because I want to be in his arms again. Not that.
Jackson is rude and unfeeling. Not someone I should be attracted to, not someone I want to touch my skin. I shouldn’t study his lips, wondering what they would feel like on mine.
“I need help,” I say, holding the handle.
