Page 78 of Paging Dr. VanRyan

She asked every call. And my answer was usually fine. But today, I switched it up.

“I passed all my exams. And got all A’s on my labs.”

“That’s incredible. I’m so proud.”

After losing Matthew, I’d buckled down. There was nothing but school. Studying. I didn’t even go home for the short break over the holidays. I stayed and studied. The house was almost empty, so I took advantage of the peace and got myself a good system that I stuck to. A weekly call with Sue was the most contact I had with the world, other than patients and teachers.

“Thanks. How’s the bakery?”

“Busy. Easter and spring, you know. Bunnies and eggs everywhere.”

I chuckled. “Yep.”

“Matthew was—” She cut herself off.

My chest tightened a little at the mention of his name. I wondered if it always would. He sprang to my mind all the time, regardless of my trying not to allow that to happen. Often, I reached for my phone, planning on sending a text before I recalled I couldn’t do that anymore. He wasn’t mine to call or text. The thought alone made me sad.

But it was reality.

I cleared my throat. “You saw him?”

“Well, you know he brought your totes back here to me. And he still comes to the bakery on occasion. I gather from the girls he is there often, but he never asks for me. I just happened to be out front when he walked in.”

“How is he?”

“Busy. He was telling me some funny stories about the ER with the Easter holidays. A lot involve chocolate and rabbits.”

“And otherwise?” I asked, unable to stop myself from doing so.

“He’s good. He just got back from his latest volunteer effort.”

“What volunteer effort?”

Sue explained about Caring Hands. I had heard of them, but I didn’t know Matthew was involved. It didn’t surprise me—he was such a caring, giving doctor.

“Wow,” I replied. “He’s still amazing.”

“It’s his second time. He’s planning another one soon, I think. He told me he was thinking of leaving the hospital to do an extended trip.”

“Wow. That’s a huge decision.”

“I know, but somehow I’m not surprised. He is that sort of person. Selfless.”

“Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “He is. I wish him well.”

“Me too. Anyway, he was good. A bit thin, I think, but good.” She paused. “I think he may be seeing someone. A girl came in to see what was taking so long, and they looked pretty close.”

The words hit me like small bullets piercing my heart. Sharp, stinging twinges that made my eyes water. I forced my voice to be light. “I see. Lucky girl.”

“He didn’t introduce me, but he left quickly. I had never seen her before—I’d remember because her hair was an odd shade of red. Like a copper penny.”

I swallowed the thick feeling in my throat. “Maybe it was someone he met while he was out of town.”

“Maybe.”

I cleared my throat again against the emotion building. “Not my business, I suppose.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”