“It’s after three in New York,” Cary rejoined, disentangling himself from Kyle.
I had my suspicions that Cary had slept with the pretty blonde at some point, and that she hadn’t brushed it off as easily as he had.
Dr. Travis caught me up in a quick hug, then did the same to Cary. I watched my best friend’s eyes close and his cheek rest for a moment on Dr. Travis’s shoulder. My eyes stung as they always did whenever I saw Cary happy. Dr. Travis was the closest thing to a father that he had and I knew how much Cary loved him.
“You two still watching each other’s backs in the Big Apple?”
“Of course,” I replied.
Cary jerked his thumb at me. “She’s getting married. I’m having a baby.”
Kyle gasped.
I elbowed Cary in the ribs.
“Oww,” he complained, rubbing his side.
Dr. Travis blinked. “Congratulations. Quick work, both of you.”
“I’ll say,” Kyle muttered. “What’s it been? A month?”
“Kyle.” Dr. Travis tucked his chair into his desk. “Would you give us a minute?”
She snorted and sauntered toward the door. “You’re good, Doc, but I think you’re going to need more time than that.”
—
“ENGAGED, huh?” Kyle took another drag off her e-cigarette, her eyes on Cary as he leaped above Dr. Travis’s head and made a slam dunk. We sat on the worn bleachers about three rows from the top, enough distance away that we couldn’t overhear the therapy session taking place on the court.
Cary got restless when he opened up. Dr. Travis had quickly learned to keep Cary physically active if he wanted to keep him talking.
Kyle looked at me. “I always kinda figured you and Cary would end up together.”
I laughed and shook my head. “It’s not like that with us. Never has been.”
She shrugged. Her eyes were the color of the San Diego sky and heavily rimmed with electric blue liner. “You known this guy you’re marrying long?”
“Long enough.”
Dr. Travis nailed a bank shot and then ruffled Cary’s hair affectionately. I saw him glance at me and knew it was my turn.
I stood and stretched. “Catch you later,” I said to Kyle.
“Good luck.”
My mouth twisted wryly and I made my way down the stairs until I reached Dr. Travis.
He was about Gideon’s height, so I stopped before I hit the bottom stair so that we were briefly at eye level. “You ever consider moving to New York, Doc?”
He smiled his crooked smile. “As if California taxes aren’t bad enough.”
I sighed dramatically. “I had to try.”
His arm slung around my shoulders when I joined him courtside. “So did Cary. I’m flattered.”
We went to his office. I shut the door while he nabbed a dinged metal chair and spun it around to sit facing backward with his arms draped along the backrest. It was one of his quirks. He sat in the desk chair when he was just hanging out; he straddled the relic when he got down to business.
“Tell me about your fiancé,” he said, when I took my usual spot on the green vinyl sofa that was held together with duct tape and decorated with signatures of former and existing patients.