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“Yes. How else are you supposed to spend time with your mom without me around?”
“When are you spending time with her?” he asks.
“Thursday.”
“Do you have some Black Friday thing?”
I shake my head. “We close for the entirety of Thanksgiving Day. My grandma would kill me if we were open on that day for the sake of a sale. She used to say, ‘It’s called Black Friday because it happens on fucking Friday.’ That was a sore subject for her. She had quite the potty mouth, too.”
“I wish I could’ve met her.”
I smile. “Yeah, me too.” With a sigh, I move away from him, toss the sheets away, and get out of bed. “I need to get ready. You stay in bed today and rest.”
“That’s the plan.”
I almost want to roll my eyes when as I’m leaving for the day, I pass Maryann, who is on her way to our bedroom to bring Brayden breakfast. He won’t have to get out of bed unless he needs to go to the bathroom. I better text him and make sure he’s the one who walks Otis. I’m sure Maryann is capable and that Otis will be the most well-behaved dog on the planet, but on the off chance that he isn’t, I’d rather he yank Brayden around than his mother.
My workday goes smoothly. I’m tempted to text Brayden every few hours, but that seems like a bit much. That feels like hovering. Besides, his mother is there taking care of him and making sure he’s resting. I’m sure Brayden is making sure he’s resting. He wants to get back into the game; he won’t do anything to prolong his time away.
As I pull into the driveway, I notice a car pulling in behind me. I step out and see Sylvia stepping out of her car.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” she calls out as she walks toward me. “I thought I’d pop in and check on Brayden since the guys are out of town. I’ve been trying to get here all day and it just hasn’t happened.”
“Well, come on in.”
“How has he been?” she asks while we walk to the front door.
“Okay. Better today, I hope. His mom is here for Thanksgiving, so she’s been keeping him company while I’m at work. Do you always check on guys when they are injured?”
Sylvia shakes her head. “No, but...” Her voice trails off. “Brayden seems like the guy you would want to check on. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I know he won’t want to be checked on?”
At that I laugh. Otis is right at the door waiting for us. I rub his head, keeping an eye on him to make sure he behaves. The last thing I need him to do is jump on a pregnant lady. He only wags his entire body and nudges her hand when she doesn’t pet him immediately after I’ve loved on him. I guess it’s time to trust him a little more. He behaves. He listens. He’s a good boy.
“Brayden? Maryann?” I call out when I don’t see anyone in the living room or in the kitchen.
“Up here, darlin’!”
We walk upstairs and find them in the bedroom. Brayden lies much in the same place where I left him, only it’s clear he’s changed his clothes. Maryann sits where I normally sleep and it looks as if she’s crocheting something. The TV is on, but it’s muted. Brayden quickl
y sits up when he sees Sylvia.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I wanted to check in. Make sure someone was looking after you, but obviously you’re doing fine.”
“Yeah, I am. Oh, Mom, this is Sylvia Boyd. Sylvia, this is my mom, Maryann.”
They wave, but Maryann shocks us all. “Your husband is adorable, by the way.” She winks at Sylvia.
“Mom!” Brayden looks disgusted and perplexed all at once.
“What? I watch your games sometimes. Scott Boyd is a looker.”
Sylvia and I both crack up. “I like her,” Sylvia says.
Maryann smiles. “Thank you. Do you have family you can spend Thanksgiving with?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. I’ll have a house-full tomorrow. Y’all are welcome to come, if you’d like.”
