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Oh well, his girlfriend.
Nope, he said she was history. He’s young.
Sure. And you’re the adoring mommy.
LOL. ‘Night Steve.”
How I wish you could be here.
She smiled, enjoying his impatience, and didn’t answer. A few hours ago she’d suggested they shouldn’t wait, especially when he would be leaving in two weeks. Now she had second thoughts. Rushing into something was not advisable—not if she wanted a long-term relationship.
Did she?
Oh God, yes.
Could she allow herself to dream about spending more than two weeks at Steve’s side?
No dreams, please. Treat him as if he were a patient. Take good care of him and hope for the best.
Easy to say. For the next two hours she compared the various kisses he’d given her and drifted off into more erotic dreams.
***
Prompt as usual, Steve knocked on Lillian’s door at five minutes before one and grinned at the tall young man who opened the door and stared at him in bewilderment.
“I’m Dr. Winston.”
“Ah, huh… Come in, please.”
A box of chocolate in one hand and a package dangling from his arm, Steve stepped in and held out a hand to his host who seemed to have forgotten his manners.
“You must be Greg Haynes. Did you have a good flight home?”
“Yes, very good.” Greg gestured to the living room.
“These are for your mother, wine and chocolate.”
“Thank you, doctor. Have a seat.” Greg disappeared into the kitchen.
Rather than sitting in a chair, Steve paced for a minute and thought he should help in the kitchen. Half way along the hallway, Greg’s voice reached him.
“He’s not old and falling apart.”
After a second of hesitation, he continued into the kitchen, not even suppressing his roaring laughter. “Is that what you told him about me?”
“Nooo.” Panic filling her eyes, Lillian spun toward him. “I never said that, Greg.”
Greg shrugged. “You said your boss was retiring.”
“No,quitting the clinic.”
“Oh well, I assumed a boss quitting meant retiring, meant old, meant… Sorry Dr. Winston…” The young man burst out laughing while his mother’s lips drooped dejectedly.
“I didn’t mean…”
“Don’t sweat it, Lillian. A mother’s boss is usually an old one for the young generation.” To break the ice, Steve added, “How about getting us a drink, Greg, to celebrate your London assignment?”
“Sure. I should have suggested it. Sorry, Mom. I’m not usually this goofy.” He shook his head in self-derision. “What will you have, Dr. Winston? Gin, whisky, scotch…”
