Read Online The Wedding Date: A Christmas Novella by Cara Connelly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cara Connelly
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didn’t know what to make of it. Sure, he knew Julie wasn’t crazy about doctors. But this felt like a funeral. What the fuck?
Jess blundered cluelessly into the pall. “My cousin’s a brain surgeon,” he said. “ Bzzzzzz ”—he did a buzz saw—“right through the skull and into the old brainpan.” He chortled a laugh. “Don’t ask me how he does it, man. If I saw a brain, I’d faint like a sissy.” He reached for the bread in the deafening silence. “How ’bout you, Cody? What’s your gig?”
Cody glanced around the table, registered the speechless horror. Beside him, Julie’s fingers twisted in her lap. And suddenly it all came together: the ring, the dead fiancé, the doctor phobia. Maybe malpractice had killed David. It wasn’t unheard of.
He’d get the details later. For now he said to Jess, “I’m thinking about doing the marathon. Got any advice?”
It was exactly the right thing to distract him. Jess pointed a crust at him. “Got a deal going right now—a three-month training session geared for the marathon. We’re a couple weeks into it, but I can prorate it for you.” He gave Cody a once-over. “You look fit. Free weights or machines?”
Cody humored him with some details until Julie quit fiddling with her ring and took a bite of lasagna. That broke the ice. Everyone took a breath. The salad moved around the table, the wine too. Cody filled Julie’s glass. She thanked him politely.
Ellen started talking about one of her problem students. Ray and Amelia chimed in, and the conversation flowed. Cody tuned it out, his attention all on Julie, her pale face and haunted eyes.
Taking the hand that still lay curled in her lap, he linked his fingers with hers and gave a light squeeze. For a long, quiet moment, she didn’t react. Then she took a sip of wine, swallowed like she had to push it past a sizeable lump, and offering him a tight-lipped smile, she gently but firmly extracted her hand.
He soldiered on through the meal, fielding questions about ranch life, asking some of his own, growing even fonder of Ellen and Amelia and the men they’d chosen. But all the while he was tuned to the quiet woman beside him, a ghost of the girl he’d made out with just hours before.
When it came time to clean up, he finagled his way into the kitchen with Amelia. Closing the door behind them, he cut to the chase. “What happened to David? How did he die?”
Amelia leaned a hip on the counter. “Brain cancer. A tumor the size of a lemon. Too involved to remove, too stubborn to radiate. Chemo didn’t work either, just ruined the last weeks of his life.”
Cody studied the floor tiles, played out the tragic scenario. Then, “She blames the docs, doesn’t she?”
“Oh yeah.” Amelia let out a sigh. “I know it’s not rational. On some level she probably knows that too. But Cody, it was so awful. So brutal and painful and awful.” Her throat caught. “I can’t fault her. She had to do something with her anger. So she turned it on the doctors. Blamed them for failing him. For offering hope and delivering nothing but more pain.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. She let it fall to the floor. “They were in love. Like Ray and me. They’d just bought their dream house.” She looked up at him. “Now she walks past it every day. Stares through the windows at the couple living inside.”
“You mean she can see it from her place?”
“It’s the house right out front.”
Cody’s heart turned over. “She’s torturing herself. Keeping the grief and the hate alive.”
“I begged her to get counseling, but she refused. No more doctors, she said.” Amelia huffed out a laugh. “I ended up going myself, trying to figure out how to help her.”
She shrugged sadly. “All I really learned is that nobody can help her until she’s ready to move on.”
I T WAS SPITTING snow when they left Amelia and Ray’s, icy little slivers that glinted in the lamplight. Cody tucked Julie’s hand under
Jess blundered cluelessly into the pall. “My cousin’s a brain surgeon,” he said. “ Bzzzzzz ”—he did a buzz saw—“right through the skull and into the old brainpan.” He chortled a laugh. “Don’t ask me how he does it, man. If I saw a brain, I’d faint like a sissy.” He reached for the bread in the deafening silence. “How ’bout you, Cody? What’s your gig?”
Cody glanced around the table, registered the speechless horror. Beside him, Julie’s fingers twisted in her lap. And suddenly it all came together: the ring, the dead fiancé, the doctor phobia. Maybe malpractice had killed David. It wasn’t unheard of.
He’d get the details later. For now he said to Jess, “I’m thinking about doing the marathon. Got any advice?”
It was exactly the right thing to distract him. Jess pointed a crust at him. “Got a deal going right now—a three-month training session geared for the marathon. We’re a couple weeks into it, but I can prorate it for you.” He gave Cody a once-over. “You look fit. Free weights or machines?”
Cody humored him with some details until Julie quit fiddling with her ring and took a bite of lasagna. That broke the ice. Everyone took a breath. The salad moved around the table, the wine too. Cody filled Julie’s glass. She thanked him politely.
Ellen started talking about one of her problem students. Ray and Amelia chimed in, and the conversation flowed. Cody tuned it out, his attention all on Julie, her pale face and haunted eyes.
Taking the hand that still lay curled in her lap, he linked his fingers with hers and gave a light squeeze. For a long, quiet moment, she didn’t react. Then she took a sip of wine, swallowed like she had to push it past a sizeable lump, and offering him a tight-lipped smile, she gently but firmly extracted her hand.
He soldiered on through the meal, fielding questions about ranch life, asking some of his own, growing even fonder of Ellen and Amelia and the men they’d chosen. But all the while he was tuned to the quiet woman beside him, a ghost of the girl he’d made out with just hours before.
When it came time to clean up, he finagled his way into the kitchen with Amelia. Closing the door behind them, he cut to the chase. “What happened to David? How did he die?”
Amelia leaned a hip on the counter. “Brain cancer. A tumor the size of a lemon. Too involved to remove, too stubborn to radiate. Chemo didn’t work either, just ruined the last weeks of his life.”
Cody studied the floor tiles, played out the tragic scenario. Then, “She blames the docs, doesn’t she?”
“Oh yeah.” Amelia let out a sigh. “I know it’s not rational. On some level she probably knows that too. But Cody, it was so awful. So brutal and painful and awful.” Her throat caught. “I can’t fault her. She had to do something with her anger. So she turned it on the doctors. Blamed them for failing him. For offering hope and delivering nothing but more pain.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. She let it fall to the floor. “They were in love. Like Ray and me. They’d just bought their dream house.” She looked up at him. “Now she walks past it every day. Stares through the windows at the couple living inside.”
“You mean she can see it from her place?”
“It’s the house right out front.”
Cody’s heart turned over. “She’s torturing herself. Keeping the grief and the hate alive.”
“I begged her to get counseling, but she refused. No more doctors, she said.” Amelia huffed out a laugh. “I ended up going myself, trying to figure out how to help her.”
She shrugged sadly. “All I really learned is that nobody can help her until she’s ready to move on.”
I T WAS SPITTING snow when they left Amelia and Ray’s, icy little slivers that glinted in the lamplight. Cody tucked Julie’s hand under
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