Not tonight.

I frowned, getting frustrated.

Tomorrow? How about we get breakfast?

Radio silence.

“Damn it, Corin,” I growled under my breath. There were times that she didn’t make caring about her very easy.

Later. Mornings are the enemy.

I smiled. Relieved that she was joking with me. But I’d feel better if I could just hear her voice.

Midmorning then. Let’s have tea at the park.

My phone chimed almost instantly.

Tea at the park? Are we 12? Only if we can play on the jungle gym.

Then there were the times that caring about Corin was the easiest thing in the world.

—

Corin was already at the park when I showed up around midmorning. I hadn’t been able to focus at work. I had been too focused on seeing her.

I jogged from my car, tea sloshing over the edge of the Styrofoam cups, burning my hand. I was out of breath by the time I reached the bench where Corin was sitting. I stopped, wheezing a bit, trying to catch my breath.

She was chewing on her thumbnail, the wind blowing her hair in every direction. I tried not to stand there and stare at her like a creeper, but it was hard. I enjoyed looking at her.

“Corin,” I called out. She looked up and gave me a strained smile.

“Hey,” she said in a strangled voice as I approached.

“Here you go. One nasty herbal tea. No latte.” She took the cup and I noticed that she was careful not to touch me.

It was sunny and on the warm side, but she was still shivering as though she were freezing from the inside out.

“Can I have a seat or am I going to be forced to stand the whole time?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Sure. If you don’t have an aversion to sitting in dried bird poo.”

“A little poo never hurt anybody,” I remarked, though I made sure not to sit in it before taking a spot beside her.

I quickly took a drink of my own beverage, trying not to think too much about the very awkward vibe that Corin was giving off.

“So…” I let that one word fade away. Carried off. Into nothing.

Way to make things comfortable, Beck.

“Sorry about last night. I keep making an ass of myself in front of people. It’s a talent of mine.” She licked her lips and stared at her hands.

“I can think of worse talents to have. Like golf.”

Corin’s lips twitched into something that resembled a smile but didn’t quite get there.

A woman walked by pushing a stroller. I noticed a soft smile on Corin’s face as she watched them disappear down the hill. She finally looked at me, her brown eyes regretful.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry. I really am sorry,” she said, wrapping her hands around her cup.

“Stop apologizing. It’s okay. You were upset. I get it. Did you know Geoffery well?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I mean I spoke to him in group some. Nothing worth noting. But he seemed like a nice man.”

“He was. A little heavy-handed with the mints, but definitely a great person. And it doesn’t really matter if he was your best friend or a complete stranger. It’s hard not to feel grief when people pass away suddenly. It’s called compassion,” I told her.

Corin snorted. “Compassion, huh? I’ve never been accused of being compassionate before.”

“You give yourself way too little credit, Corin.”

Corin stared out at a stream, present in body but not in mind.

“Did you know that Geoffery was a medic in the Vietnam War?” I wanted to get her talking. Her introspective silence was disconcerting.

“I had no idea,” Corin exclaimed, looking at me again.

“Yeah. He was injured and honorably discharged. After that he became a war protestor. That’s how he met his wife.”

“Wow. You’d never know that by looking at him. You know, with the flat caps and all,” Corin said. “How did you know all this?”

“I like talking to people. I like to know their stories. I want them to know that I care about who they are and what they’ve done.” I gazed into Corin’s eyes and hoped she picked up on what I was trying to say to her.

“Or you’re just a busybody,” she joked half-heartedly.

“Or that,” I shrugged.

“You’re a good guy, Beckett. I barely know you and you’re always riding to the rescue. Like my own personal white knight.”

I bumped her shoulder with mine. “I have a thing for damsels in distress.”

“But who saves you, Beckett?” she asked softly, and my smile slipped.

“I don’t think that I need saving,” I responded.

“Are you so sure about that?” she asked me, raising an eyebrow. I felt a stab of awareness in the center of my chest. Why did I always get the sense that she saw more than I wanted her to? More than I had ever let anyone see?

Corin sighed loudly.

“You must think I’m a real whack job,” she muttered.

“Nah. No more than everyone else I know,” I quipped, glad we weren’t talking about me anymore.

“I can’t help it. It just sneaks up on me. Before I really know what’s happening. It’s the most horrible feeling…”

“Like you’re dying?” I filled in for her.

She kicked the dirt with her shoe. An oddly endearing gesture.

“I don’t have long, Beckett. I just know that my time is running out.” She sounded resigned. But also scared.

I thought again about my own questionable health and could understand that fear.

“But who saves you, Beckett?”

I leaned down. Close. Almost cheek to cheek.

“Stop thinking about your life in increments. Seconds. Minutes. Days. Look at the bigger picture and embrace whatever time you have. Don’t look constantly toward the end. Enjoy the right now.”

The girl with death in her eyes glanced up at me, her wet eyes suddenly clear. I tried not to feel embarrassed by my cheesy advice. Because I truly believed the words I had just given her.

Even if I did sound like some Mr. Miyagi rip-off. Or a really bad fortune cookie.

Corin must think I was a total douchebag.

I felt suddenly light-headed but I wouldn’t think about that. Not now.

“The right now, huh?” She wasn’t laughing at me. She wasn’t smirking or looking at me like I was an idiot.

She said it matter of factly. Seriously. As though what I had to say really did have some merit.

A thought came into my head unbidden. A strange thought. A powerful one.

“But who saves you, Beckett?”

Just maybe I was looking at her.

I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She didn’t pull away. Not this time.

And I didn’t either.

“Absolutely. It’s all any of us can do.”

Neither of us said anything else. So we sat there in the sun, listening to the sounds of kids laughing on the playground, and I knew that this woman was filling a hole inside of me that I hadn’t realized was there.

We finished our drinks and I got to my feet. “Can I push you on the swing?” I asked, holding out my hand.

Corin grinned. “Only if I can bury you in the sandbox.”

I laughed.

She laughed.

Some things just felt right.

Chapter 10

Beckett

“How often have you been feeling light-headed?” Dr. Callahan asked, her stethoscope pressed against my chest as I took deep, long breaths. In and out.

“It started a few days ago and has only happened a handful of times. It passes after several minutes but I figured I should come and have myself checked out.”