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‘Grayson Mercer? Oh, do you mean Dr. Grayson T. Mercer, D.O.? In that case, I’d definitely like to meet you for lunch today.’
‘How did you know my middle name?’ I ask, because I’d rather not say what I’m really thinking—how glad I am that she said yes.
‘I am an accomplished researcher. Noon?’
‘Noon. Meet me at the Caf?’
‘Best idea ever,’she answers.
My appointments go quickly. Strep might be going around campus, though, because there are three positive cases, and the three kids live in different dorms. Of course, it could just be the start of fall sore-throat season. I’ll have Kimberly send out a health alert text. We haven’t had to use the text service much, but it comes in handy when there’s something we want the kids to watch out for.
While I’m letting her know that I want her to send the message, I say, “And if anyone calls to see if there’s an opening for an appointment in the next hour, please say no. I’m going to take a lunch break.”
“Oh, I’m so glad,” she says, grinning. “I’ll happily refuse an appointment to anyone who calls.”
I see that smile, and I know it has several meanings, just like I know if anyone calls needing to see me, she’ll find a way to fit them in.
I toss my white coat onto the back of my chair and pull on my jacket, wondering if it’s completely uncool to wear my scrubs on our date. If I was supposed to factor in time for a wardrobe change, I didn’t. Too late now.
As I make my way toward the Chamberlain Corner Café, I keep slowing down my steps. Not that I don’t want to get there first, but I can feel my walk turning into a jog. And I don’t want to show up sweaty and out of breath. Just soon. As soon as possible.
Okay. Slow down.
I pull open the door of the Caf and see Sage leaning across the counter talking to Val Thurston, the Chamberlain food authority. She runs the cafeteria where all the kids’ meals are served, and this great little shop for between-meal food. And cookies. All the greatest cookies.
At the sound of the bell over the door, both Val and Sage turn to look toward me. I feel how big my smile is, but I don’t try too hard to hide it. Sage waves me over.
“Hi. I ordered. I hope you’re not picky.” She takes a brown bag from Val’s hands.
“Hi. Thank you. I’m not.” I reach out, offering to carry the lunch.
She shakes her head. “I don’t want you peeking,” she says. “You carry the drinks.”
I tear my eyes from Sage’s face and turn toward Val, who slides a couple of covered hot-drink cups across the counter. Each one has a tea bag tag dangling from a string.
Tea? What makes her think I’m a tea drinker?
I wonder what else she’s ordered—because what goes with tea?—but I don’t have time to ask (or to have Val make me a cheeseburger) before Sage nods toward the door and says, “Let’s go.”
When exactly did I relinquish control of this date?
Not that I mind. I’m happy to follow Sage around campus until she finds the ideal tree to sit under. It’s a perfect early October afternoon. The trees are starting to turn colors, and the morning chill has warmed away to a pleasant afternoon. Sun dapples through the leaves overhead, and I barely notice any of it.
All I see is Sage Whitney, sitting in the grass with her legs stretched out and her hands on the ground behind her, relaxed and right here, with me.
She pulls a paper-wrapped sandwich out of the bag and hands it to me. “I just ordered two of what I like best,” she said. “That way, if you hate it, I can take it home and eat it for like two more meals.”
I unwrap the sandwich, and it’s some combination of banh mi vegetables, and egg, and meat that’s probably pork. It smells amazing. I shake my head. “You can’t have this back,” I tell her. Then I take a bite.
Wow.
It’s perfect. Every part of the sandwich sends some kind of spark of deliciousness into me. The bread is great, a little crusty on the outside and then soft and chewy in the middle. The crisp vegetables and the meat and the egg are excellent contrasts for each other.
“This is amazing,” I tell her. “How have I never eaten this sandwich before?”
She shrugs. “It’s not exactly on the menu.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Val sells you off-menu sandwiches?”
