asked with
his head tilted to one side.
She looked up into his brilliant
blue eyes and grimaced. “Nothing. It’s just been a
long night.”
“Come sit with me for a little
while. I have to leave shortly for the hospital.”
“Oh,” she said with disappointment
in her voice.
He flashed a smile at her tone. “I
don’t suppose you have any coffee?”
“The coffeepot’s ready to go, just
turn it on,” she answered, thankful for the coffee packets she’d scavenged from
the student hall.
He lowered his arms and leaned forward
to flip the control button on the coffeemaker. Almost immediately, sounds of
water being sucked up into the machine filled the room.
“Come sit with me,” he enticed.
Wrapping the edges of her housecoat
more firmly around her body, she complied.
After they sat, she in the chair,
and he on the couch, he slipped on his shirt and asked, “Outside of the
headache, how do you feel? Any more nausea?”
“No, just the headache. You must be so exhausted. Do you
always stay up till three a.m. then work at the hospital?”
“Usually. While my shifts change
continuously, I normally don’t go in until nine on the weekends. But I have a
patient who had surgery last night and I wanted to check on him first thing
this morning.”
“Oh,” was the only comment she could
think of to make.
“Tell me about yourself, Tate. It
dawned on me after our lunch, that you never actually told me anything,” he
said, propping his elbow up on the arm of the couch and holding his face up
with his hand.
With a shrug, she said, “Not a lot
to tell. I’m studying photography and graphic design, work at Zeal’s, and live
in this apartment.”
He furrowed his brows at her answer.
“I already know all that. Tell me other things, like where are you from? Are
your parents still alive? Do you have any siblings? Are you from Gainesville?
If not, where did you come from?”
Hearing the buzzer that let her know
the coffee was ready, Tate escaped to get Jace a cup.
“How do you take your coffee?” she asked.
“Black.”
She poured the coffee, handed it to
him, and settled back in her chair.
He eyed her as he sipped his coffee.
“So?” he asked.
Looking down at her folded hands,
she said, “Why do you need to know those things?”
“I don’t need to know.
It’s just how people get to know each other. What? Do you have skeletons in
your closet or something?” he grinned.
She gave him a small smile, but
didn’t answer. Overcoming a lifetime of keeping people out was a hard habit to
break.
He studied her over the rim of his
cup. “Okay, I’ll start. I was born in upstate New York, but my parents moved
down to West Palm Beach when I was eight. I love the sun and beaches, but do
occasionally miss the snow. I have an older brother, who fortunately messed up
so much that my younger sister and I caught very little grief for the trivial
things we did. He currently resides in the Federal Prison Camp in Miami, doing
thirty-six months for conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute cocaine.
So see, no one’s family is perfect.”
She slowly nodded her head, but
still didn’t say anything.
After a hesitation, he continued,
“My father is a financial advisor and my mother is a professor at West Palm
Beach Atlantic in the history department. My sister still lives in West Palm
Beach and attends the college where my mother teaches. She is in her third year
and has, of yet, not picked a major, which drives my parents crazy. I was in a
rock and roll band when I was in high school and had a dream of making it big
that way, but my parents felt the medical field was a safer bet. Fortunately for
everyone, I’ve always wanted to be a doctor also and was fortunate to be born
smart, where I’ve been able to breeze through most of the classes. I hope to
return to West Palm Beach to be close to my family, but it will depend on a
variety of factors,” he finished on a rush.
Again he hesitated, waiting on
his head tilted to one side.
She looked up into his brilliant
blue eyes and grimaced. “Nothing. It’s just been a
long night.”
“Come sit with me for a little
while. I have to leave shortly for the hospital.”
“Oh,” she said with disappointment
in her voice.
He flashed a smile at her tone. “I
don’t suppose you have any coffee?”
“The coffeepot’s ready to go, just
turn it on,” she answered, thankful for the coffee packets she’d scavenged from
the student hall.
He lowered his arms and leaned forward
to flip the control button on the coffeemaker. Almost immediately, sounds of
water being sucked up into the machine filled the room.
“Come sit with me,” he enticed.
Wrapping the edges of her housecoat
more firmly around her body, she complied.
After they sat, she in the chair,
and he on the couch, he slipped on his shirt and asked, “Outside of the
headache, how do you feel? Any more nausea?”
“No, just the headache. You must be so exhausted. Do you
always stay up till three a.m. then work at the hospital?”
“Usually. While my shifts change
continuously, I normally don’t go in until nine on the weekends. But I have a
patient who had surgery last night and I wanted to check on him first thing
this morning.”
“Oh,” was the only comment she could
think of to make.
“Tell me about yourself, Tate. It
dawned on me after our lunch, that you never actually told me anything,” he
said, propping his elbow up on the arm of the couch and holding his face up
with his hand.
With a shrug, she said, “Not a lot
to tell. I’m studying photography and graphic design, work at Zeal’s, and live
in this apartment.”
He furrowed his brows at her answer.
“I already know all that. Tell me other things, like where are you from? Are
your parents still alive? Do you have any siblings? Are you from Gainesville?
If not, where did you come from?”
Hearing the buzzer that let her know
the coffee was ready, Tate escaped to get Jace a cup.
“How do you take your coffee?” she asked.
“Black.”
She poured the coffee, handed it to
him, and settled back in her chair.
He eyed her as he sipped his coffee.
“So?” he asked.
Looking down at her folded hands,
she said, “Why do you need to know those things?”
“I don’t need to know.
It’s just how people get to know each other. What? Do you have skeletons in
your closet or something?” he grinned.
She gave him a small smile, but
didn’t answer. Overcoming a lifetime of keeping people out was a hard habit to
break.
He studied her over the rim of his
cup. “Okay, I’ll start. I was born in upstate New York, but my parents moved
down to West Palm Beach when I was eight. I love the sun and beaches, but do
occasionally miss the snow. I have an older brother, who fortunately messed up
so much that my younger sister and I caught very little grief for the trivial
things we did. He currently resides in the Federal Prison Camp in Miami, doing
thirty-six months for conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute cocaine.
So see, no one’s family is perfect.”
She slowly nodded her head, but
still didn’t say anything.
After a hesitation, he continued,
“My father is a financial advisor and my mother is a professor at West Palm
Beach Atlantic in the history department. My sister still lives in West Palm
Beach and attends the college where my mother teaches. She is in her third year
and has, of yet, not picked a major, which drives my parents crazy. I was in a
rock and roll band when I was in high school and had a dream of making it big
that way, but my parents felt the medical field was a safer bet. Fortunately for
everyone, I’ve always wanted to be a doctor also and was fortunate to be born
smart, where I’ve been able to breeze through most of the classes. I hope to
return to West Palm Beach to be close to my family, but it will depend on a
variety of factors,” he finished on a rush.
Again he hesitated, waiting on
Similar Books
