“I’ve made an appointment for you with the realtor, Patrick. We have to be in town in an hour.”
He frowned and twisted to face his mother again. “What realtor?”
“The young woman who took over at the Perkin’s agency. She has a simple name like Ruth or Peg. You know me with names. Anyway, I set it up because she’s very busy, you see? And as much as I love having you back home, these things take time. I’m not planning to support one of those college-graduate sons who pass off their debt to their parents. I watch the news.”
“Mum, what the hell are you talking about? I paid off most of my debt during my residency.”
“Even still. I’ve promised the town a doctor, and you can’t practice medicine out of our house. The appointment’s at ten. Jo, I assume you’ll want a say in this. After all, you’ll be living wherever Patrick lives.”
“Uh…”
His glare drilled into Jo’s guilty stare, but she said nothing. “Mum, we have to tell you something.”
“What is it, dear?”
“We—”
“Want to find a place closer to town,” Jo interrupted. He was going to murder her. “An office with an apartment on top. That’s enough for now.”
“Like a starter home? That’s probably wise. I should call Connie and let her know, so she can check the listings. I had assumed you’d want a house.”
“Who’s Connie?”
His mother was already moving toward the phone. “The realtor. Pay attention, Patrick.”
She disappeared into the kitchen, and he looked to his father, who was doing a puzzle in a book. “Did she not say the realtor’s name was Peg or Ruth?”
Without lifting his gaze, his father made a mark in the book with a filed down pencil and said, “I stopped listening twenty years ago, Pat. Better do what she asked and get dressed.”
He took a quick shower and found Jo waiting on his bed. She’d helped herself to one of his flannels and fixed her hair. He scowled at her. “Why didn’t you let me tell her? This is getting out of hand.”
“She just seemed so happy to have me. She told me to call her Mum.”
He got it. Jo’s mom treated her like a burden most days, always trying to fit her into a mold that Jo would never fit, but this was not going to end well. That reminded him…
“Does Tristan know you’re a lesbian?”
“I never told him, but probably. I pegged him for liking guys way before he and Luke came out.”
“You did?” Another thing she never told him.
“It was just a feeling.”
“Well, I think he knows we’re lying.”
“I’m not surprised about Tristan. People talk. Maybe Sheilagh told him.”
He stepped into jeans and pulled on a T-shirt. “We need to tell my mom we’re lying. She’s going to start picking out china patterns and make me buy an excessively large house for the wife and family I’m not going to have.” At least not yet.
“That’s why I said we want an apartment. I know you don’t want a house yet.”
It was a little disturbing how quick on her feet she was with the lies. He grabbed his keys and stuffed them into his pocket. “We’re telling her. Let’s go.”
They met with the realtor, whose name happened to be Darlene, and visited several different properties. He wasn’t emotionally prepared for house hunting, but he made the best of it.
“Maggie’s house is still on the market. You and Ryan could be neighbors.”
“No. I don’t want a house, Mum.”
“But, eventually, you’ll start a family. Don’t you want children, Jo?”
Jo smiled and opened a closet, peeking into the empty space. “This place has a smell. What is that? It’s like a cross between popcorn and kerosene.”
His mother took a big sniff of the closet. “Oh, that smells like rotten eggs.”
“I don’t like the location of this place anyway. What’s next?” They had to move this along. He promised Ryan he’d step into his role as best man and help him today.
“I have a small storefront at the end of Main Street. It’s only fifteen hundred square feet on each floor—”
“Perfect,” Pat said. “Let’s go there.”
They drove to the end of Main Street, and he immediately remembered the store as the old Second Chance Bookshop. It had a storage area in the back and a private entrance leading to the second floor. The floorplan was open, but there was the potential for walls. He could see a waiting room, a small office, enough storage space for files and a front desk, and two small patient rooms. It was tight but the best he’d seen so far.
“What’s the listing price on this one?”
Darlene handed him the information page. His mother frowned and examined the run down cabinetry in the back.
“Patrick, this isn’t at all what I was picturing.”
Reviewing the sheet, he said, “We would renovate, Mum. All that would get gutted and replaced.” The price was good. It left plenty of room for construction costs. “Let’s see the upstairs.”