Keeping my smile in place, I slide the pot back into the machine, then beeline for the door. If I’m going to be sick, I’d rather not do it here, where there’s an audience.
Before I make it to the edge of the porch, footsteps sound behind me. “Bluebonnet, wait up.” Parker hurries up beside me. “Feeling okay?”
“No. Apparently, this little peanut doesn’t like coffee. Which is a bit of a problem considering it’s a necessary part of my morning routine. I might have to switch to Earl Grey tea.” I sit down onto a step and draw in a deep breath. “Morning sickness is no joke. And it came on out of nowhere.”
He drops down beside me and rubs my back. “I’m sorry. I wish there was some way I could make it better.”
Dumplin’ has always been a sweetheart. When we were younger, he’d offer to carry books or coats for the girls in my friend group—which was also his sister’s friend group—anything for us to let him hang around. Some of the girls got annoyed with a little brother around, but I thought he was a cute kid and always lobbied to let him hang out.
He’s still cute. And still a sweetheart. He’ll make some woman really happy one day.
“Nothing you can do about this. I should probably eat something. I usually skip breakfast, but that’s not going to work.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Leaning my head against the porch rail, I pull air in through my nose and breathe out through my mouth. I might be late to work, and I’ll deal with that, but right now, my only goal is to avoid tossing my cookies.
“Here.” He hands me a plate as he sits back down beside me. “I know you don’t like sausage with sage in it, so I only brought you eggs and toast. Oh, and I found these crackers in the cabinet.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I sigh. “I appreciate the thought, but anyone who saw you sneak those out will be suspicious.” I take a small bite of egg, hoping the taste doesn’t disagree with me.
“Thought of that.” He holds up another sleeve. “Grabbed two, and I’ll snack on these all day.”
“You’re so sweet. Thank you for listening on Saturday. I’d just found out, and I wasn’t in a good headspace.” I finish off the eggs. “I’m doing a little better. No thanks to John. When we were sitting in the mess hall, I texted him, saying that I had his ring waiting for him, and that I didn’t see a future for us. Diplomatic, right?”
He nods.
“Well, he gave the message a thumbs-up. That’s all. I have half a mind to throw the ring in a fancy box with a bunch of cow manure and let him fish it out.” I nibble a slice of toast, that’s conveniently cut into triangles, which makes it easy to eat. “Eggs were good, but this toast is amazing.”
“Want more?”
“No thanks. If I don’t hurry, I’ll be late for work, and Mondays at the vet clinic are always interesting. One Monday morning, we were greeted by a woman whose cat had swallowed a sewing needle. Why?”
“I thought you were a large animal vet.”
“Since we’re in a small town, he’ll see almost anyone. Main focus is large animals. But now that I’m working there, he sees more and more small animals. The other day, some guy showed up with a pet opossum. Cute as a button.” I open the crackers and pop one in my mouth. “Thank you for these.”
“I didn’t find any tea in that kitchen, but I can ask Ava about it.” He stands, and I’m aware of how tall he’s gotten. Ages ago, he came to my shoulder. Now he’s got four or five inches on me. And I’m not short.
“Oh, no. Don’t bother Ava with it.” I stretch up and wrap an arm around his neck. “Thank you for being awesome.”
He pulls me close, and the warm embrace is just what I need to deal with my Monday.
The thud of a boot landing on the porch interrupts our moment, and I pull away. “I’ll chat with you later.” I hurry around the corner but stop when Dag says my name. So, of course, I eavesdrop. I may have missed what Dag said, but I’ll hear Parker’s response.
“Seriously? She’s having a Monday. So I hugged her. Do you need a hug, Dag?”
“I’m good, bro.”
Parker’s laugh rings out, and I race to my car. Thanks to the way he handled it, the hug may not end up as gossip fodder. Because I seriously don’t need rumors starting. I’ll announce my broken engagement on my own schedule and in my own way.
Unless John decides to broadcast the news first.
Now I’m nauseous again, and I can’t blame morning sickness.
I use the fifteen-minute drive to the clinic as a self-talk session, and when I arrive at work, I’m calm and not rushing to find a bathroom.
“Morning.” Smiling, I wave at Marilyn. She’s worked here for nearly three decades, and based on the way she laughs at Dr. Monroe’s stupid and rarely funny jokes, I’m guessing she’s hoping the vet notices her in a romantic way.
