Chapter Four
Jason
“I actually moved back home,” I state. “My mom has dementia and can no longer take care of herself.”
Ava slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with remorse and compassion. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”
“I should have come home sooner,” I say and gulp my drink. It makes a noisy sound as I swallow, a reprieve from the depressing topic.
This is one reason I had no intention of dating. Mom needs me, and establishing myself in this community as a gynecologist has been stressful. Explaining everything to someone who is new to my life is something I didn’t want to do.
Then I walked into the one bar with the one beauty who’s managed to turn me inside out.
Ava places her hand onto my forearm. “You don’t have to talk about this. What made you want to be a gynecologist?”
I cover her hand, trapping it between my skin. “It’s fine, sweetheart. This is what you do when you’re dating someone new. You share.” Even if it kills you.
She gives me a small smile and tips her head in waiting.
Moving back home to help with Mom and leaving my established practice had been an easy decision, but one with plenty of bumps along the way. It’s just us two. The dementia diagnosis was a slap in the face for both of us. She chose right then to sell everything and move in to an assisted living home. I’d balked, telling her we’d live together, but Mom is a strong woman. I bought her house from her, paying more than market value to ensure she’d accept the extra money.
“I had wonderful parents growing up. Dad died two years ago, and Mom started coming apart at the seams. At first, I chalked it up to grief. Things became worse, and she decided she wanted to live somewhere she could be taken care of. She sold her house. I bought it and moved to be closer to her. There wasn’t a time in my life Mom hasn’t been there for me. It’s my turn to take care of her. The place she chose has been wonderful. She has great days and some bad ones. As far as why women’s health? Again—Mom. Most men say they looked up to their fathers, but I looked up to my mom growing up. Both were great, loving people, and I was extremely lucky with them, but my bond has always been with her.”
The way Ava stares at me makes me want to puff out my chest. I haven’t done or said anything worthy of the praise I see, but I eat it up. God, she’s beautiful, and I hope I don’t ruin this. At least now I know where to find her, but I’m also not going to turn into some obsessive asshole who can’t take a hint.
“Wow,” Ava whispers and squeezes my forearm. “Your mom is very lucky to have a son like you.”
“No, sweetheart. I’m the lucky one to have her.”
As the work day comes to an end, I notice the shop doesn’t close. The customers look less like professionals and more like college students. The music playing overhead switches beats, and more laughter is heard among the tables.
Wanting to keep things light, I pick her brain. We discuss books, music, and movies. I learn we share more common interests than not. She claims to be an introvert, but here in her shop, she relaxes and opens like a flower.
Our drinks are long gone. Glancing around, I see two students in the corner. They’re huddled together over a textbook, and the woman I spoke to when I arrived is cleaning behind the counter. The moon is rising in the sky, and it reminds me of the night I met Ava.
“Do you need to help her?” I ask with a nod toward the woman. She bites her lower lip, torn between me and her duties. I squeeze her hand. “Why don’t you go help her, and I’ll call in to see how Mom is doing. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat when you finish?”
Her free hand moves to her stomach. “Oh, shoot. I didn’t even pay attention to the time. Food would be good.”
“Go. I’m not going anywhere,” I say and give her a wink.
She rises, and I’m forced to release her hand when she grabs our mugs. I can’t help but watch her hurry toward the counter. Her hips sway with each step, reminding me of how they felt in my hands.
Ava turns, and our eyes meet. Her cheeks flush, and her lips tip up in a smile. The other woman steps toward her, and they speak too quietly for me to hear them. The women look me over, and I take it as my cue to call Mom.
The call is short, and I learn she’s made a new friend today. Not wanting to ruin her opportunity to socialize, I tell her goodnight. After hanging up, I find Ava easily before I pull up my email. I do what I can to pass the time but am aware of every move she makes. The students pack their things, and the only ones left are Ava, the woman, and me.
Lights turn off one by one until I’m left sitting under the emergency lights.
“Ready to go?” Ava asks. “Bye, Lily!”
“Don’t have too much fun, lovebirds,” Lily tells us and eyeballs me once in warning.
When I direct my attention back to Ava, her hand is covering her forehead. “What would you like to eat?” She clears her throat, and I follow her toward the door.
“I’m still learning what’s changed around here.”
“There’s a Mexican restaurant two blocks down.”
