Sweet Liar (Candy #2)(34)



“Hi,” I said hesitantly because he’d been so angry at me before.

He gave me a single head nod.

“Jeep looks good. Was there any damage?”

“Not that I noticed.” He turned away and walked back to the Jeep.

“That’s good,” I muttered as I walked to the passenger side and got in. “So you’re still mad, huh?”

Jonah looked over at me. “Let’s just get to your appointment.”

“Yup, you’re mad.”

Shaking his head silently, he concentrated on driving.

I glanced over at him as he stared out the windshield, admiring his profile, wishing things were different. I wished he really was who he claimed to be in the beginning. I missed that Jonah. I missed what we’d started together, even though it wasn’t what I thought.

“Where are we headed?” he asked.

“It’s the medical building just after the shopping plaza. So, on a scale of one to ten, how furious are you?” I couldn’t seem to let it drop the way he wanted me to.

He exhaled sharply. “Wasn’t that the point? To make me furious?”

“Did you know it was me right away?”

“Yes.”

“You know why I did it, right?” I recalled what he’d said this morning about dealing with my feelings the way normal people did, and I wanted to make him understand why it wasn’t so simple. The pressure that welled up inside me wasn’t normal. I realized that, but I couldn’t just deal. I had to do something or I’d explode or crumble to pieces or whatever falling apart looked like.

“Candy, I know you’re nervous about this appointment. The last thing I want to do is argue with you. I think we should drop it.”

Didn’t Jonah realize that I wanted to think about anything but my appointment? “I’d say you’re around an eight. Still ticked off, but not raging mad like before.”

He flexed his fingers on the wheel and smiled in a wry way that said despite the smile, he didn’t actually find me amusing.

I gave up after that, and we rode the rest of the way in silence. Once we reached the glass-and-concrete medical building, Jonah parked and came around to get my door for me. The lack of conversation remained as I led Jonah to the elevator and then pushed the button for the floor where Dr. Fox’s office was located, recalling how my father had been with me the last time I was here.

The reception area was quiet, with only a few patients filling the chairs in the waiting room. A lame instrumental version of Lady GaGa’s “Bad Romance” piped in through speakers in the ceiling. It was annoyingly loud, and I tried to block it out as I checked in at the front desk. I was told the doctor would be with me momentarily, which could mean five minutes or fifty in this place, so Jonah and I claimed a couple of empty seats by the door.

“These have been great, by the way,” I said as I pulled off the gloves. “Thanks again.”

Jonah looked down at my hands, which were a nice healthy color, but he said nothing.

“So, am I getting the silent treatment now?”

His hazel eyes flicked to mine. “No.”

“Certainly feels that way,” I muttered.

Turning in his chair, Jonah pinned me with a serious look. “To answer your question, I’m not mad. I’m not at eight. I’m not even at one anymore. What I am is disappointed in you.”

I snorted out a laugh. “Disappointed? Man, you really are an adult.”

His eyes narrowed.

When my name was called, I blinked in surprise at how short the wait had been. I wouldn’t have minded a good long one.

Jonah stood and looked down, waiting for me. As I gathered my things, my pulse sped up as the anxiety I’d temporarily forgotten came crashing in on me like a tidal wave.

The nurse smiled as I walked up to her with Jonah beside me. She led us down a brightly lit hall and into the examining room, explaining that the doctor would be right with me.

We sat down to wait again, silently this time because I was too anxious to worry about Jonah or anything else except my hands, which were curled into fists on my lap.

When Dr. Fox walked in a few minutes later and greeted me, he wore a casual, friendly smile the way he always did. Tall and thin with straight brown hair brushed back from his forehead and a long, narrow face, Dr. Fox always reminded me of the guy who played the Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz movie.

“This is my friend, Jonah,” I explained, even though the word friend didn’t come close to covering whatever he was to me now. “My father couldn’t come with me today.”

Dr. Fox turned his welcoming smile on Jonah before bringing it back to me again. “Come sit over here and let me take a look.” He pointed to the padded leather exam table in the middle of the room that I’d ignored, choosing to sit in a guest chair instead.

With a sigh of reluctance, I moved to the table and began pulling off the Band-Aids as I sat down. Dr. Fox reached for the large circular magnifying glass perched on a stand nearby, and lowered it so that it hovered just above my hands. When he clicked on the light, my fingers looked big under the magnifying glass, and the bright light revealed they were glaringly discolored in the spots where frostbite had set in.

The doctor turned my hands over, concentrating on first the left and then the right. When I glanced over at Jonah, his brow was deeply furrowed as he tried to see what Dr. Fox saw.

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