was Lawrence’s slick way of remaining a bachelor forever.
“Okay, what did Aunt Sophie make and what did Mama make?” Lawrence called back as he darted into the kitchen.
“I’m not sure. You’ll have to taste and see.”
“Aww, man! You know Aunt Sophie can’t cook. You’re supposed to make note of stuff like that. Why’re you keeping her food anyway? You’re supposed to throw that stuff right out in the trash. I swear, some of her food is toxic,” Lawrence yelled from the kitchen.
Joel laughed as he heard Lawrence gag and curse. He must have sampled one of Aunt Sophie’s masterpieces.
By the time Lawrence came back with his plate of “safe” Mama-made food, Joel thought he’d finally finished thinking about his physical therapist.
Then he thought about the sparks that flew out of her eyes when he snapped at her about being late. For a moment she’d looked at him as if she wanted to rake him over the coals. She was a full of fire for sure.
Little Miss Spitfire. That’s what she was.
He smiled again.
“What do you keep smiling about?” Lawrence asked as he placed his plate on the dark oak end table and leaned back in the deep burgundy leather recliner he always sat in when he came by.
Normally, Joel preferred the recliner for himself, but in the spirit of being a good host, he always allowed Lawrence to sit there. Ever since they’d been kids, Lawrence had pretty much ignored boundaries. If you let on something was your favorite, he took it over.
Favorite cup, ink pen, hat, whatever. Once Lawrence found out, you’d find him using it. He liked to irritate folks. It was easier to ignore him, but Joel was the only brother who could really do it. Both Patrick and Jason pitched fits when they found Lawrence using their favorite cup or pen. Joel let it slide. So, he made the matching leather sofa his spot whenever Lawrence was around.
“I was just thinking about how interesting the next three months will be working with Samantha. She’s excellent at her job, but she sure is opinionated. Man!”
Lawrence shook his head. “I guess you would be the best person to call it. Takes one to know one as they say.”
Joel frowned. “I’m not that opinionated.”
“Yeah, whatever. So, did she say what she thought your chances were for going back to the fire department?”
“No. We didn’t get to that, really. Plus, my doctor and the department will be the ones to make the call.”
“Have you thought about Hightower Security at all? It could be—”
Oh, no, he was starting again. For the past four months, his family had been trying to get him to think about other options just in case he didn’t get a clean bill of health to return to firefighting. He couldn’t get them to understand he wasn’t ready to consider other options.
He needed to believe he would be able to go back to the fire department.
“You know, I appreciate you taking your day off to go with me to my first physical therapy session, but I really don’t want to talk about this. I just want to get better and get back to my normal life.”
Lawrence nodded.
They watched the rest of the game in silence.
Samantha sat on her sofa, flipping the channels without a desire to really watch anything. After her horrendous day at work, she just wanted to veg out.
Joel Hightower was nothing like she had imagined him.
Why did that bother her? It shouldn’t have. He was a patient.
She’d dealt with difficult patients before. As a professional, she just had to do her job.
When her phone started ringing, she contemplated not answering it. She wasn’t in the mood for talking, especially if it was her mother on the other line.
She glanced at the caller ID. Seeing it was her friend, Jenny, the receptionist from the clinic, she picked up.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?”
“Girl, I had to leave before you were done with your last patient.” Jenny’s bubbly voice came through the phone line. “And you know I had to call you and find out how it went. I’ve never seen you almost snap on a patient before. Girl, I thought you were going to rip his head off. His fine-as-he-wants-to-be head off, I might add.”
Samantha hissed. “He’s rude, and he’s a bear.”
And truth be told, his stank attitude hurt your feelings and shattered all the little idealized images of him you had in your mind.
“Whatever. He’s something to look at, and he had his other fine brother with him.” The distinct sound of smacking lips followed by “mmm” interrupted Jenny’s adulation. “Girl, I was glad you were late. I got to sneak glances at those two fine Hightower men the entire time. You know, I went to high school with the oldest Hightower brother, Patrick. Every girl in Paterson wanted to snag one of those Hightower boys—”
“I can hardly imagine why. Joel Hightower is a surly, opinionated jerk. In fact, I’m going to start calling him Mr. Surly.”
Jenny laughed.
“What’re you laughing at? It’s not funny.”
“I just think it’s funny you find him so opinionated. Tell me, is that your expert opinion, since you can be a little opinionated yourself?”
“Ha, ha, ha. The difference is my opinions are usually right, and his…Oh, forget it. I don’t want to talk about Mr. Surly.”
“Hmm…I’ve never seen you get this worked up over a guy before. Interesting.”
“And I think you might be in need of a shrink, because clearly you’ve lost your mind.”
“Right. We’ll see what the next months shall bring, now won’t we?”
“No, we won’t, and I’m not worked up over Joel Hightower. I don’t get worked up. That’s not my style. I’m an easygoing, laid back, live and let live kind of a girl.”
It was all she could do to keep her voice calm because she didn’t like the fact that Jenny had called her on her less-than-cool response to the surly but fine-as-all-get-out Joel Hightower.
“Yeah, you’re easygoing, all right. You easily let some of the finest men in North Jersey go on about their business once they get tired of trying to work their way into your world.”
Samantha also didn’t like the tone of Jenny’s know-it-all voice that was hitting a little too close to home. So what if she hadn’t met a guy who could successfully hold her interest for more than three dates? So what if she preferred to keep her options open and not get too serious at this point in her life?
“Oh, please tell me this isn’t going to turn into another why-don’t-you-settle-down talk. I like my life
