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With a groan, she checked her watch. “At least school’s out by now.”
“See? Things are looking up.” Bolstered by her smile, Booker took the opportunity to tell her about Dallas. She insisted he go on to see him, much like he expected. On his way out, he glanced over his shoulder to find her watching him walk away.
Rather than wave, he pretended not to see her. The same way he ignored the pep in his step that catching her looking gave him.
Chapter Eight
Dee
The room seemed much larger without Booker’s mountain man form in the corner. While Dee welcomed the space, she conceded she missed her boss. He’d been with her the entirety of the day, and despite his companionship being a result of his imposition she’d come to enjoy his company when he wasn’t trying to kill her or kiss her better.
If she were honest, she enjoyed Booker’s presence more when he was trying to kiss her. Get a grip, girl! Dee knew better than to allow the light of attraction to blind her to the trouble that came along with romantic rendezvous in the workplace. To cement this knowledge, she pulled out her phone and started doing what Booker paid her for.
First, she rescheduled the meeting with Touchdown Taffy. Surprisingly, it didn’t take her as long as she feared. Then, she searched the web for the friend Booker had left to see: Wyatt Jones. The man had played as cornerback with the Arlington Apollos since he’d been drafted and put up decent numbers. From her investigation, however, she discovered he’d made more headlines for his obscure life choices than his play on the field. His anti-vaccination stance, aversion to all social platforms, and his recent decision to begin a vegan lifestyle rocked the sports world.
Dee thought for a moment. She’d sent Booker’s friends numerous get-well gifts since taking the position as assistant. Wyatt shouldn’t be an exception. Hurriedly, she dialed the gift shop telephone number listed online and asked what types of gifts they had ready. When she realized the store catered more to new moms than injured football players, she ordered a simple balloon to be blown up. Booker could pick it up and take it to him.
She opened her text messages and typed out a quick correspondence detailing the floor the shop was located on and asking Booker to get the balloon. Never one to send out a text without rereading, she started to scan the screen but stopped short when the curtain to her room was yanked back. The sudden movement startled her so bad she jumped and hit the send button.
When her son stepped in, she shrieked, “Elijah, what on earth?!”
“I think I need to ask you that question.” He looked her up and down before bending for a hug. “Did your ankle get worse?”
“No. Honestly, it’s a bit better.” To prove her point, she held her foot high and rotated it, showing off the larger range of motion and the tight wrap Dr. Stephens had applied when she’d came in to share her blood results. The test confirmed the anaphylaxis, but the danger had passed.
“Good.” Elijah nodded but scrunched his face. “If you’re not here for your ankle, then why are you in the emergency department?”
With a long exhale, Dee started the tale of the treacherous pineapple pizza. When she had finished, Elijah hugged her again. The embrace was tighter than before. As he released her, he laughed.
“I’ll need a new Tritons jersey now,” he said. “I can’t rep Watson knowing he almost killed my mom.”
Dee playfully slapped his shoulder. “Hush. He didn’t mean to. Besides, it was my fault. I didn’t ask about the toppings.”
“Yeah, what’s up with that? Usually, you don’t go ten feet near a pizza box without making sure the coast is clear.”
“Booker caught me off guard. I didn’t think about it.”
An expression of epiphany slid down her son’s face. He smirked. “And why didn’t you think about it?”
Dee fought off the flush she sensed trying to start. “B-Because of how much pain I was in. With my ankle.”
“Sure, sure.” Elijah walked around the exam table and hopped up. He threw his arm around his mom, tugged her close, and touched his head to hers. “Math’s my best subject, Mom. I can add two plus two and get four. Or should I say one plus one and get a couple?”
“A couple? No, no, no. You’ve got the wrong idea. Mr. Watson is my boss. That’s all.”
“Whatever you say.” Elijah raised up, clearing his throat. “For real, though. I can handle you dating.”
Dee took his hand. “I’m happy with our family.”
“I am, too,” Elijah squeezed her fingers before letting go. “But dating would be good for you. I’ll be leaving for college in less than three years—maybe out of state if the game goes like I want it to tonight—and I don’t want you to be alone.”
All the heart-to-heart conversations she’d had with her son had done nothing to prepare her for this moment when he would be reminding her of their reality, when he would transition from needing her advice to giving his own.
Dee didn’t know what to say, so she simply nodded in agreement while her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back, but not before her son saw. He bumped her shoulder with his and grinned. “I mean, you’re running out of time, Mom. Thirty today, over the hill tomorrow.”
While Elijah laughed at his own joke, Dee looked at her son. Gone was the baby fat in his cheeks and his pre-teen acne had been replaced with a growing-thicker-by-the-day goatee. He was no boy now, but an almost adult with his own thoughts about the life they shared and ideas about what was best for them. Reasonable and sound ideas, she hated to admit.
Dee told herself it was because she was too weak to fight with him. In truth, though, she held back not because of her lack of strength because of the solidity in Elijah’s reasoning.
