Page 79 of A Hard Habit to Break

Dad joined them, hair still rumpled, wearing his crisp white T-shirt and denim. “Someone’s chipper this morning. You know, most people glow after a swim in the falls or a vacation. You look like you’ve discovered the fountain of youth—”

“Or really good sex,” Benji quipped.

“Alright, BW,” her father grumbled, shaking his head at her plus one, who’d won the whole town over with one tied football game.

“Benjamin Wiles,” Bethany gasped, while Amarie snorted with laughter.

Was it that obvious? Heat crept up Rachel’s neck. “Can we focus on the renderings, please?”

“What?” Benji shrugged. “I’m just saying I thought I’d seen the authentic Rachel Johnson. But,” he drawled, “this version is the happiest and the best.”

Benji was right. He had never seen her like this because she’d never been this version of herself. Confident in her work, confident in her choices, confident in letting someone see her without armor. Was this what people meant when they talked about becoming? Her freckles had been on display and foundation-free for four days. How people judged her pale color, her freckled skin, was athemproblem. Noah made her forget she ever worried about covering freckles or taming flyaway red hair. When had she become the person who prioritized her comfort over concealer?

“Oh, we’re definitely focusing,” Amarie said with a grin, “but first, can we talk about this setup?” She gestured around the office. “Noah installed dimmable track lighting. And look at the receptacles.” She pointed to an outlet system along the walls. “USB ports built right into the electrical plan. The man thought of everything.”

Leah nodded proudly. “He learned his way around a hammer and nails from his father. But his design sense… that’s from watching you, Rachel.”

“And the storage… What I wouldn’t give,” Bethany added, opening one of the built-in drawers. “Look, Matt. Divided sections. Flat storage, even a vertical cabinet. Ingenious.” Ideal for Rachel’s drawing tools and large-format documents.

“You guys, he didn’t have to do all this…” But the fact that he had created a space in his home where they both could work comfortably touched her in a place reserved for Noah. Having their families witness her overwhelm added to the intensity of the moment, so she appreciated when Bethany changed the subject.

“What about the high school conversion?” Bethany asked, leaning over the clinic plans. “As someone who’ll be referring patients there, I’m fascinated by the layout.”

Rachel swallowed her emotions and pointed to the largest of the interconnected buildings. “The bones of the old high school are perfect for what we need. Those solid walls, the high ceilings, are practically begging to become something lifesaving.” Bethany leaned forward, her fingers hovering just above the paper, as if touching it might make the dream too real. “The existing infrastructure is our foundation for check-in, administrative, clinical spaces, and a laboratory,” Rachel continued, tracing the electrical pathways with her finger. “But here”—she guided Bethany’s gaze to the detailed layouts—“I’ve redesigned the former gymnasium for specialty care… pediatrics, women’s health, and wellness classes.

Bethany’s breath caught audibly, one hand pressed to her heart. “Rachel, honey…”

“The fire department and EMS are literally next door,” Rachel continued, her excitement building. “When someone calls 911, Tobias and his kit can have them stabilized and in proper medical care within minutes instead of that terrifying forty-minute ambulance ride to Whynot. And the collaboration—imagine our firefighters training with medical staff, learning advanced first aid in the same building where they might use those skills. And when disasters hit, because they will, this same wing transforms into an emergency shelter.”

Rachel watched her dad’s face light up as she spoke. Maybe he was remembering the little girl who used to sketch house plans on napkins during dinner. Or her mother, holding Rachel on her lap, helping her trace lines, and color in the block houses.

Her dad cleared his throat roughly. “That’s my kid,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Rachel grinned and pointed to another section. “And here’s the bonus… an onsite pharmacy with a drive-up window. Picture Mr. Wanakee, in his vintage Cadillac Seville, pulling right up to collect his medications. No more choosing between travel and prescriptions because someone can’t afford the gas to drive into Whynot.”

Bethany’s eyes filled with tears, her hand finding the man who owned her heart. “We’re bringing healthcare home, Matt,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

“The town mall administrative spaces are brilliant, too,” Amarie said, studying those renderings. “Open concept for collaboration, but private offices where needed. And this public meeting space could double as a public space with community meetings and our local fundraisers.”

“You thought of everything,” Bethany marveled, dabbing at her eyes with her free hand.

Amarie reached across the table and squeezed Rachel’s hand. “I can see it… Noah’s vision, your vision for Service,” she said, unshed tears pooling on her lower lashes. “The people will see it, too. So much of what we need… right here in town. Folks can stay close to home, surrounded by people who love them.”

At the mention of love, Rachel thought this might be the best time to discuss her decision about Noah.

“There’s something I need to tell you all,” she said, her stomach knotting. How did she tell her best friend that she was choosing love? That she might be committing career suicide with the firm for a second, real first chance at life with Noah?

Benji raised an eyebrow. “You’re staying, aren’t you?”

“I… don’t know.” She took a breath. “Noah asked me to move in while I’m here. The rest”—she sighed—“is more complicated. If I stay, Benji, what does that mean for my career? The connections and friends I’ve made in San Diego? What would a FriendFriend do without her bestie nearby?”

“Aw, FriendFriend,” he said gently, “no need to fret. I have an American Express card with lounge privileges. I gotta use those air miles for something. This is Service. My home away from… well, San Diego.”

He was right, again. When had she become the person who shouldered other people’s choices or consequences? Benji was a whole adult who didn’t require her intervention or oversight.

“No matter your decision,” Leah interjected, gesturing around the office and then at the renderings, “you win. A man who supports your ambitions, a community that needs your talents, and projects that could change lives. Whether here or there, all of us are with you.”

“Plus,” Amarie added with a mischievous grin, “you get to work in this gorgeous space instead of some sterile corporate box when you come home.”