Mc-something?

Oh, my God.

I sucked in a breath, stomach tensing as I asked, “What?” on a whisper.

“McCade. His name was McCade,” my mom said. “Ooh, and he was young, wasn’t he, John? I didn’t know doctors could be that young.”

“His name was McCade?” I asked in a quick voice, sitting forward in my seat and gripping the phone harder.

“That’s another thing,” Dad grumbled. “Not sure I should be taking orders from some kid. What’s he know anyway?”

“I like that he’s young. Means his mind is fresh on the books,” Mom contended.

“Would you both quit arguing and pay attention to what I’m saying?” I shrieked, now gripping hold on the steering wheel with one hand. “You said his name was McCade? Is that what I heard?”

“Yes. Dr. McCade,” my mom answered, also speaking in a way it was as if I should know this information already. “His first name is Travis.”

“How’d you know that?” Dad asked, sounding flippant.

“It says so right here on the prescription. Really, if you would just wear your glasses—”

“Forget the glasses!” I interrupted. “Jamie had his brother come to your house and treat you? He … he really did that? Are you sure his last name was McCade?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Pumpkin, why are you acting like you don’t know anything about this?” Mom asked.

“Because I don’t know anything about this,” I informed both of them, breathing heavy now I was so worked up. “I can’t believe … wait, what did he tell you? That it’s not heartburn? What else?”

“Went through two bottles of Tums,” Mom mumbled under her breath. “What a waste.”

Dad exhaled heavily in my ear. I pictured him glaring at my mother all while holding her hand and giving it a loving squeeze.

It was how they operated.

“Said my pressure is up. Took some blood and told me to go get some tests or something,” he shared. “Said the chest pain could be from my pressure, but he wanted to make sure. Also gave me a prescription for some dog scan.”

“A CAT scan, John,” Mom corrected.

“Same damn thing.”

“And he said something about you losing weight,” Mom added. “I heard him.”

“Don’t remember nothin’ about that,” Dad returned.

“He wrote it down. Again, if you’d just put on your glasses …”

“Oh, my God,” I murmured as they continued to debate in my ear, and this was strictly in reaction to what I was realizing, not because of my parents and their bickering.

They bickered out of love all the time. I was pretty immune to it. I wasn’t reacting to that. I was reacting to what I was thinking about—last night with Jamie and our conversation before we started eating. The one we had right after I hung up from my mom.

Travis McCade.

My hand slid off the wheel to press to my stomach at the same time as my eyes lowered and lost focus.

“He told me to give it another day. That’s what he said,” I muttered mostly to myself. “He … he told me to wait and see how you were doing ’cause he knew I was worrying and he didn’t want me to. He was taking care of it.”

He said it like a promise. Give it another day. He promised me.

“What’s that, pumpkin?” my mom asked.

“Jamie got his brother to go check on you.” I swallowed thickly, shaking my head. “I didn’t ask him to do that. I—I didn’t even know he had a brother.”

Why didn’t I know that? Didn’t I ever ask him questions? I know he asked me questions.

“I didn’t know doctors still made house calls,” Mom said on a chuckle. “Lucky for us since your father is so stubborn.”

“Still on the line, Dee,” Dad pointed out.

“He had his brother go check on you,” I repeated, barely above a whisper.

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together, breathing deeply and quickly through my nose and feeling it tingle.

Jamie did this. He took care of something that meant everything to me. Didn’t have to. Wasn’t asked. He just did it. He was always taking care of things.

That was the kind of man he was.

“Baby girl, I missed that. I’m sorry. What did you say?” Mom asked. “Oh, and also, would you like to share how you know this McCade boy? I don’t remember you ever mentioning him.”

“Claim me, babe.” Jamie’s voice whispered in my ear and over my heart. I started breathing heavier.

“I need to go,” I said instead of answering my mom or repeating. “Um, can I just …” I held the phone between my ear and shoulder and started the car while reaching for my seat belt. “Can I call you guys later? I’m really glad you got checked out, Daddy.”

“Still something you could’ve warned me about,” he grumbled. “Almost shot the man.”

“Oh, for God’s sakes, John, you were not even carrying,” Mom reminded him.

“Okay, great!” I called out, realizing if I didn’t hang up, they’d just keep at it with each other and leave me on the line as an afterthought. “Glad you didn’t shoot him. Let me know how your tests go. Love you both.”

I hit End and dropped my phone on the seat before backing out of my driveway.

A fifteen-minute drive was managed in ten. And this was with traffic.

I was in a bit of a hurry. I also may have run a stop sign.

I parked my car behind Jamie’s Jeep and dropped my keys twice on my sprint up the driveway and onto the porch, finally succeeding in tucking them in my back jean-short pocket before I started knocking.

My hands were shaking and my heart was so happy to be here, it was leading a parade inside my chest.

I patted my thighs restlessly and stood on my toes to peer through the small rectangular window next to the door. I rang the bell and knocked again, this time using the side of my fist instead of my knuckles.

Nothing.

Hmm.

Holding on to one of the accent beams, I leaned off the porch to make sure I saw both of Jamie’s vehicles in the driveway, his bike and his Jeep, confirmed that, then knocked and rang again.

Nothing.

“Okayyy.”

I wasn’t typically the type of person to let myself into a house where I didn’t live, past or present, but I was desperate and anxious and here to claim a boy I sort of already belonged to.

Manners were being shoved aside right now.

I twisted the handle, and the door opened freely.

“Hello?” I called out, stepping inside and peering around the entryway.

The house was quiet. My voice echoed off the tall ceiling and most of the lights were off. As I leaned to the side, I caught sight of a warm glow flickering in the room behind the stairway.

“Jamie?”

I moved down the hallway and stepped inside the large living room/kitchen space.

The fireplace was on. That was the light I was seeing. Orange and yellow flames danced behind a panel of glass.

He was home. Somewhere …

He wouldn’t leave the fire going.

After checking the upstairs and every room on the first floor, I pushed the slider open and stepped out onto the deck. I moved to the railing and curled my fingers around the wood, looking out at the ocean.