“Oh my God,” Charlotte said, tossing up her hands. “It’s like you want me to yell at you.” She turned and put her hands on Jane’s shoulders. “Listen to me. You’re my dearest friend, you’re always there for me, hardly ever try to boss me around, and after long, tragic, horrific days in the OR, you make me laugh. You make me feel human. So trust me when I say, I’m the one that gets the most out of this relationship.”
Jane blinked, looking thrown off balance. “I . . . didn’t know any of that.”
“Well, now you do.”
Jane took a deep breath and headed through the living room. She opened the sliding glass door, stepped outside, and sat on the stoop so that the huge gray cat waiting for her could hop into her lap.
Charlotte stepped outside too, shutting the door behind them before reaching out to stroke the cat, who allowed it once, twice, and on the third attempt, batted Charlotte’s hand away, making her laugh. “Oh to be a cat and simply slap the shit out of anything I don’t like.”
“I’m sorry,” Jane said as the behemoth cat jumped lithely down to wrap himself around Jane’s ankles.
“Why are you sorry if he’s not your cat?”
Jane rolled her eyes. “No one owns this cat. Sometimes he chooses to come visit me, that’s all.”
With a heavy thud, the cat jumped onto the patio table. Jane nudged him down. “No furniture.”
The cat sat on his haunches looking offended.
Charlotte snorted. “Feed your stray, then let me feed mine.”
“Are you comparing me to the cat?”
“You have to admit, there are some similarities.” Grinning at Jane’s grimace, she went into her favorite room in the house. The kitchen. Five minutes later it was already scented with the bacon and eggs she had going. She set out plates and grabbed the pitcher of iced tea from the fridge.
Yes, it was winter in Tahoe, and the outside temperature was maybe thirty-five degrees with a wind chill that made it seem half that, but Jane loved iced tea.
And Charlotte loved Jane, so iced tea it was.
Jane came into the kitchen, prepared a bowl of food for Cat, and set it down at the back door where he was waiting. She was quiet. Not a seething quiet, but a thoughtful, reflective sort of silent that meant she was thinking and thinking hard about something.
“What is it?” Charlotte asked.
Jane looked up suspiciously. “What’s what?”
“Something’s bothering you.”
Jane smiled warmly. “Have you met me? Everything bothers me.”
“Has something happened?”
Jane hesitated.
“Spill.”
“I might’ve done something potentially stupid.”
“You don’t do stupid.”
Jane laughed a little mirthlessly. “I agreed to go out on a date—a pretend date—with Levi.”
Charlotte gaped. “Hot guy from the gondola.”
“I really wish you’d stop calling him that.”
“Just calling it like it is,” Charlotte said. “And the date’s pretend . . . why?”
“I told you what he did when we thought we were going to die.”
“Yes. He told his mom he had someone in his life so she wouldn’t worry.” Charlotte smiled. “So incredibly sweet. But still not hearing the potentially stupid part.”
“Because the pretend date is to get good enough at being his pretend girlfriend for his parents’ fortieth anniversary dinner.”