Page 7 of Unlikely to Stay
Patty opened the door to the back of the clinic, letting in a cool April breeze.“Night.”
“Good night.”
Patty was right about one thing.Brant did deserve somechillin’.It had been way too long.Unfortunately, the pool of candidates forchillin’in Parker, Oklahoma wasn’t that big, and Brant wasn’t one to venture out into the unknown dating pool of the nearby city of Lakeview.So sadly, his Netflix date did not have anychillin’possibilities at all.
Before he decided to catch up on the episodes ofStranger Thingshe hadn’t seen, Brant decided to stop by Griff’s bar to grab a sandwich and a beer.It had been a long day.And after stitching up a donkey and slicing a boil off an octogenarian’s ass, he felt like he deserved one.Maybe two.Grabbing his dirty lab coats, wallet, and keys out of his office, he locked the back door and got in the Honda Accord he’d had since nursing school.Pulling out of the parking lot, he steered his car in the direction of Griff’s bar.
About a year ago, Griff’s had been a rundown bar that hadn’t seen an interior update since the seventies.Then Griff’s girlfriend’s ex-husband had gotten drunk and successfully burned that bar to the ground.He was still serving time for a felony arson charge last Brant heard.Griff and his girl, Breckin, had built from the ground up and renamed the bar Red’s after Griff’s first love, who he lost in a motorcycle accident several years ago.Brant thought it was pretty big of Breckin to name a bar after a dead girlfriend.Of course, he didn’t know her and Griff’s history, so he wasn’t one to judge.
Pulling into the bar’s new asphalt parking lot, he got out of his car and headed inside.No need to lock his car in the tiny town with practically no crime.That was one advantage about living here.Even if the possibility of Netflix and chillin’ was slim to none.
Grabbing a barstool at the sleek new butcher block bar, Brant got out his phone to check his messages.It came as no surprise to him that the only message he had was from Betty Billings, the foster mom who had adopted him when he was fourteen.When he turned eighteen, she had told him to dream big and make something of himself.It was the best advice he’d ever been given.
Betty: When are you coming to visit me?I know you’ve got a fancy medical degree and all but that don’t mean you can snub the woman who raised you.
Brant: No snubbing.Just busy.I’ll try to make a trip to the city next month to see you.
Betty: You lyin’?
Brant: Not lying.Scout’s honor.
Betty: We BOTH know you never were no Boy Scout.
Brant: Nurse’s honor?
Brant could picture her harrumphing him while sitting on her orange velveteen couch with the wooden arms and pictures of brown flowers and barns on it.Betty had been his savior when he had no hope.He’d gone to live with her when he was eleven after every other foster home—six, in fact—had said he was too hard to handle.Too angry.Too difficult.Too untrustworthy.Betty had never given up on him.When his mom’s parental rights were terminated when he turned fourteen, Betty adopted him and changed his name from Anderson to Billings like hers.Even though they weren’t related by blood, weren’t even the same race, she was the only mom Brant had ever known.Lord knew the crack head who gave birth to him was never a mother.
Betty: You DID have to give some sort of oath to cause no harm, right?
Brant grinned.He knew what was coming.
Brant: Yes.
Betty: Then I guess I can trust you.Cuz you know it would cause me harm if you were lyin’, Brant Billings.
Brant: I’ll see you next month, Mom.
He was rewarded with an emoticon sending him a kiss.
“Well, hey there, Brant Billings.What’ll it be?The usual?”
Megan Murphy, the manager of the bar, walked up to Brant, her hands on her hips and a towel thrown over her shoulder.She was one of the few women in Parker who could be part of the dating pool.Unfortunately, she was also way too young for Brant.And one thing he wasn’t was a cradle robber.Besides, she had quickly become the annoying little sister he’d never had.
“Now why would you say something like that?”he asked.
Megan chuckled.“Because you’re a creature of habit, that’s why.”
It was Brant’s turn to chuckle.“I can’t deny it.Give me the—”
“Club with extra bacon, a side of fried pickles with ranch, and a Corona with lime.”
“Wow.Am Ireallythat predictable?”
“Totally.It’s time to branch out, Brant.”
“Why branch out when what you make is so good?”he called to her retreating back, getting a finger wave in return.
“Well, well, well.Long time, no see, Brant.I thought you deserted us for another establishment.”Griffin Stephens, the owner of the bar, sat down next to him.“I’m not gonna lie, it kinda hurt my feelings.”