Page 65 of Holding On

"Another date?" I smile. "That's two in a row. And during the week. This is getting serious."

He ignores my teasing. "Just wanted to let you know where I'd be. I don't want to bother you at work so I'll let you go."

"I'm not at work. The homeowners cancelled today's cleaning."

"So where are you?"

"At Ethan's doctor's appointment. He's in there now. I'm in the waiting room."

"You took him to the doctor?"

"He didn't have anyone else to take him." I whisper it so the people next to me won't hear. They saw Ethan go in and I'm sure they know who he is. I don't want them spreading rumors about him.

"Sounds like something a girlfriend would do," Mike says.

"Or a friend."

"I'm just kidding. It was nice of you to take him. Becca, I gotta go. Text me when you get home from work tonight so I don't worry."

"Exactly how late do you plan to be out?"

"I'm playing it by ear. Maybe we'll get something to eat after the movie."

"Which is code for going to her place," I say, laughing to myself.

"Bye, Becca," he says in his annoyed-with-me voice. He gets annoyed when I tease him about his love life, even though he does it to me all the time.

After we hang up, I go find a vending machine and get a bottle of water. Before he went in to see the doctor, Ethan gave me a $10 bill and told me to go get a coffee somewhere so I wasn't stuck here at the clinic, but I didn't want to leave and have him waiting for me. Still, it was a nice gesture. When he's not in one of his moods, he can be really nice.

An hour goes by and I start to get concerned. What's taking so long? Just as I'm thinking that, he appears in the waiting room.

"Ready to go?" he asks, wheeling his chair over to me.

"You're smiling," I say, keeping my voice down because the people across from me are watching us. "Does that mean—"

"Wait until we're in the car."

Once we're in the van he says, "The doctor said I could start using the crutches and that I'll be able start physical therapy in a week or two."

"That's great!"

"Yeah. I might even be able to toss the football around at practice."

He still wants to play football? But he said it doesn't make him happy. It's not the time to talk about that so I don't.

"Want to go somewhere to celebrate?" I ask as we're sitting at a stoplight.

"No. Let's just go home."

"You don't have to use the chair anymore. I thought that was the reason you didn't want to go out."

"I don't feel like going out. Not right now."

"Okay." I turn down the road that heads back to his house. He seems moody again. Whenever the topics of football or his leg come up, he gets moody.

Back at his house, he tries out the crutches. "Feels good to stand up again."

I watch as he moves through the living room. "You're good with those. You don't even wobble."

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