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“You too, Mr. Shaw,” Journee says as she moves to the seat Daire just vacated. “Oh, my goodness! How do you know Mr. Shaw and why did you call him Daire?”
Her words don’t immediately register because my stupid brain is stuck on how good his ass looked in his jeans as he walked away. After giving myself a mental slap, I hear what she said.
“Why are you calling him Mr. Shaw? Is he a patient here or something?”
I finally focus on Journee. It’s then that I notice she isn’t paying attention to me. Her eyes were on the same thing mine were. Shaking herself, she then takes a drink of whatever is in her cup. I feel a twinge of unexpected jealousy.
Let’s reign that in. That’s not an option. Reroute that energy to something else.
Exactly. So, I do.
I think about Journee instead. Her hair is curly and free today. She’s rocking her midnight blue scrubs with moons on them, which means that’s probably coffee in her cup. We are so night and day it isn’t even funny. I’m wearing my sky-blue scrubs with suns and rainbows. Her brows furrow as she looks at me.
“You don’t know who that is. Do you?” she asks me.
“Do you?” I instantly reply. “I feel like I’m missing something. Was that a HFH badge he had in his hand?”
“Yes. I answered one of yours. You answer one of mine.”
“That was Daire Deville. Famous racecar driver?”
“Really? He races cars? That’s interesting and news to me. I just know him as Bossman Shaw. The man who is co-owner of HFH.”
“Co-owner? What? Since when?”
Journee chuckles then. When she realizes I’m serious, she stops. Abruptly.
“Oh. Right. You seriously don’t know. He has been with HFH since its inception. He’s the reason it’s called the Hope Foundation House.”
I start to tap my nail on the screen of my phone. The rate of the tapping increases as does the feeling of nervousness that courses through me.
“How is it possible that I didn’t know that? Why haven’t I seen him around? Why is he around now?”
I have a sudden horrifying question. I’m unable to speak it aloud because the possibility of it being the truth would be too much for me to handle. What if I’m the reason he’s coming around?
“I’d have to say I don’t know the answer to any of those questions. I’m guessing you haven’t seen him because you haven’t been here when he was around. Anyway, he’s here now and so are you.” She tilts her head as she looks over her cup. “Is there something I should know? Did something happen between the two of you?”
“No. Nothing you need to be concerned about or anything. I think I have my answer.”
“Answer?”
“Yeah. About my next move.”
“Your next move? Are you moving? What are you talking about?”
I walk over to her and kiss her cheek.
“Thank you for your help.” I turn to rush to the door. “No, I’m not moving out, but this makes things so much easier.”
“What things?”
I don’t acknowledge anything further. For the first time in a long time, I have a clear, defined, decision that I am sure of. Everything in my life recently has been a jumble of unknowns that cause me to be more confused than anything else. I’m practically floating as I leave the solarium to meet my first of three patients I’m seeing today. It’s going to be odd not coming here, but it’s for the best. I realize now being here at HFH was just a steppingstone. I have a feeling I need to make this next move in order to move in the right direction. I’m tired of the unsure version of myself.
Who knows, maybe just maybe this will lead me to the answers I’ve been searching for. At minimum, I’ll have to spend less time in the presence of Daire Deville. That’s a win in all categories.
