Page 228 of Worth the Trip

“Doing what?”

“Calling me baby like you don’t know what happens to my cognitive function.”

“You have advanced degrees. Recover.”

“Education has limits.” She backed away laughing. I watched her for one more second. “I love you.”

Her steps slowed.

She looked at me.

“I know.”

Then she smiled and headed back toward the booth.

No panic in her face.

No pressure in mine.

She knew where I was.

I knew she’d get there in her own time.

Malcolm appeared beside me about thirty seconds later. “Coach.”

“Don’t.”

“She made you your own ice cream?”

“Malcolm.”

“Handwritten label too?”

“I’ll create an equipment position specifically to make your life miserable.”

“You don’t supervise equipment.”

“I’m resourceful.”

He laughed while I finally opened the pint.

The first spoonful gave me brown butter, cinnamon, peach, caramel, and Sunday afternoons I hadn’t thought about in years.

My eyes closed.

Malcolm made an offended sound. “You ain’t gon’ offer me none?”

I pointed the spoon toward the label.

“You see what that say?”

“For Landon.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m Malcolm.”

“Congratulations.”