How can I answer her when I’m not sure myself?
The nurse opens the curtain, saving me from myself. The nurse glances from me to Romy. “Everything okay?”
I frown. “A dizzy spell.”
“How bad?” the nurse asks, stepping forward to peer into her eyes.
“I got up too fast. I’m fine,” Romy says.
The nurse frowns. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“I’ll keep a close eye on her.”
The short-haired brunette smiles. “You’ve got a good one here. Be sure to hang on to him.”
“I ... We’re not—” She stumbles over her words.
“She couldn’t get rid of me that easily.”
“I could try,” she mumbles.
Chapter Two
Caleb
It feels like an awkward first date. Seated beside Romy on the couch, we both drink the coffee they’ve served. Nervously I nibble on a sugar cookie, unsure of what to say.
“What brings you to Centerville?” Pop asks.
“I got a job as an occupational therapy assistant for Dr. Carver’s office. I was working at a hospital back home. The hours were plentiful, and the pay was all right, but I wanted more,” she answers.
“And this is better for you?” Nona asks.
“Immensely. It’s why I could purchase my house.”
“Good for you. I remember how I felt when we were able to buy this land and start building. It took a while, but this old house has stood the test of time.” The pride in Pop’s voice is audible.
“You built this?” Romy asks in awe.
“I helped a little.”
“He was out here all the time,” Nona says.
“It was a present for you. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t have a hand in it.”
Nona rolls her eyes, but the wide smile betrays how happy it made her.
“It was my wedding present,” Pop explains.
“You gave her a home?” The wistfulness in Romy’s tone is intriguing. I hadn’t taken her for the romantic type with the way she shut me down for trying to help her. Maybe it’s me personally she’s not interested in.
“No, I promised to make one with her.”
“I didn’t know he wasn’t speaking metaphorically.” Nona places her hand on Pop’s. I admire the relationship they have. I always wanted that someday. At thirty-five, I’ve begun to think it’s not in the cards for me. My parents were together, but their fights were legendary, and they would bicker nonstop. It never seemed like a peaceful way to live. Love can’t be everything.
“That’s so sweet.” Romy sighs, resting a hand over her heart.
“We have some photos of the house as it was built if you’re interested,” Pop says.