She chuckled, thinking of the woman who was pulled and tucked like a hospital room sheet and marveling at this man’s ability to not only fit in but…become one of “the gals in the breakroom.”
“Doris said Acacia got the contract because of your work,” he continued. “And so did her son, Greg, when your dad got the business.”
“You talked to Greg Hollister? At the water cooler?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Remember, I was around, quietly minding my own business at the Summer House, trolling for a job when the call came in.”
“I thought you were trolling for sympathy and coffee.”
“Nah. Just a little face time with…” He slid her a look. “The girl who never stops working.”
She stopped then—dead in her tracks. “You’re kidding. Of course you are. You always kid.”
“Not always.”
She let his words roll around in her head and land…somewhere she hadn’t been expecting. Or had she? The attraction was mutual, she knew. But coming out and talking about it? She wasn’t quite ready for that.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“It’s true.”
They walked a little farther. A heron stood motionless at the water’s edge, patient and perfectly still, waiting for something beneath the surface. Like she was—waiting for something beneath the surface of this man.
“What made you want to become a dentist?” she asked.
“Oh, you know, a great experience in the chair when I was eleven.”
She laughed, but he didn’t.
“I’m serious,” he said.
“You had a great dental experience?”
He slowed his step, toeing a rock in the ground as he considered his answer and Meredith waited for it.
“I took a line drive to the teeth when I was in Little League,” he said, making her suck in a breath and put her fingers over her own teeth, realizing their worth. “My mother freaked out. I mean, she can be pretty high drama and helicopter-y, but my dad was away on a police assignment, and she just lost it so bad that one of the other moms literally slapped her.”
Meredith didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “It must have been awful.”
“All I could taste was blood and broken teeth and hear my mother screaming,” he said. “Someone helped her get me to the ER, and then to an emergency dentist, and now…” He gave her a big smile. “Chompers courtesy of some amazing dentist.”
She’d have never suspected his beautiful teeth were veneers. “He did a great job.”
“She, actually. Dr. Jane Wahl, an artist. But more than anything, she was calm and steady and like human Valium after my mother. And to an eleven-year-old who didn’t want to be toothless? She was a saint.”
She studied him intently for a moment, enjoying the excuse to drink in every feature and not feel like she had to look away. “And that’s all it took for you to want to be a dentist?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t want to be a cop, like my dad and, eventually, my brother. I didn’t want to do the full med school thing, but I liked the idea of helping people and it seemed…secure. And the path required hard work, which I like.”
She smiled at him. “We’re similar that way.”
“Why are you such an overachiever?” he asked.
She drew back, not expecting that question. “I guess because my mom died when I was thirteen and I clung to my father like a lifeline. I never wanted to disappoint him. In fact, I wanted to be exactly like him. My mother’s death was…defining.”
“I bet,” he said softly. “Not quite the same level of tragedy, but my parents’ divorce was rough on me, too.”
“How so?” she asked.