Page 53 of The Game Changer

Jill

I check my reflection one last time in the hotel bathroom mirror. I don’t know why I’m so nervous about meeting John’s mom, Nancy, but I am. I run a hand down the dress I finally decided on for today. It’s flattering, not too sexy, but makes me feel that way, which makes me feel confident. I adjust my hair one last time, looking over the small amount of makeup I applied earlier before I got dressed.

“You look beautiful,” John says from the doorway. “She’s going to love you, so stop your worrying.”

“I’m ready,” I tell him, ignoring his comments.

“Then right this way, milady,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the bathroom. I grab my purse and a jean jacket I packed to wear with this dress in case it’s on the cool side. I slip it on as we ride the elevator down to the ground floor.

“You sure I’m dressed appropriately for today?” I ask.

“Of course, you are,” he assures as we reach the lobby level. We get off, heading for the valet stand. John had already called down to let them know we’d be leaving soon, so the rental car is pulled up and already waiting for us. The valet hands him the keys as another one comes around and opens the passenger door so I can slide in. He waits until after I‘m settled to shut it for me, as well.

“So fancy,” I tell him. I haven’t used valet services all that often, so this is all over the top to me.

John just smirks as he puts the car into drive and pulls away from the stand.

* * *

“Are you ready?” he asks me as we pull into a parking spot that is labeled as “visitor parking” for the large complex we’re at.

“I was born ready,” I tell him as I slip off my seat belt. He comes around the car, opening my door for me, then offers me his hand as I stand from the car. I’m so used to his truck, so having a car that is so much lower than his truck is just something I have to adjust to for the next couple of days.

We head inside the lobby and straight to the elevator bank. John hits the up button. “She’s going to love you,” he says as his lips rest next to my ear. He must sense my nerves again as we ride the elevator up to her floor.

“John!” I hear his name called out as soon as we exit the elevator. “You’re finally here!” his mom exclaims as we make our way to her door. I watch as he wraps his mom in his arms. His large body engulfs her small petite frame.

“Hi, Mom,” he greets her.

“I’ve missed you so much, please don’t make me wait as long before I see you again,” she scolds him as she pulls back from his embrace. I notice his flinch from her words. He’s confided in me how hard it is to come back here sometimes.

“I’ll see what I can do, Mom,” he says before he turns back to me. He grabs my hand and tugs me into his side. “Mom, I want you to officially meet Jill.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you in person,” I tell her as she pulls me in for a hug.

“Oh, honey, the pleasure is all mine,” she says, squeezing me tight. “You two come on in, no need to stay out in the hallway for my nosy neighbors to start poking their heads out to see who’s here.”

We follow Nancy inside her condo, it’s small, tidy; perfect for just one person.

“How was your flight?” she asks, as she shows us into the living room.

“Quick and painless,” John tells her.

“How was your appointment?” John asks his mom.

“Fine, just a routine yearly checkup with my arthritis doctor. They’re keeping my meds at the same dosage since it appears to be working. I don’t get as much pain as I was getting just six months ago.”

“I’m glad they appear to finally have found the right medicine to use for you.”

“Me too. I was getting pretty miserable, and it took a few doctors before I found one that would listen to me and actually try some different things to combat the pain I was in,” Nancy tells us. “Oh, Jill, before I forget, I have something to show you,” she says excitedly as she hops up from the chair she was sitting on. She comes back with a book. One that I quickly realize is actually a photo album.

“Mom,” John moans from the cushion next to me. I smirk as I crack the book open to the front page. It starts with pictures of Cindi as a baby, then ones of John as an infant, then a toddler and finally a little boy. I laugh and cry as I make my way through his album.

“This is incredible,” I say as I flip through more pages.

“I’m going to ask your mom for pictures of you when you were a kid when we get back. I need to see awkward pre-teen Jill pictures as payback,” John says as he looks over my shoulder at the pictures with me.

“Aww, look at you with your medals,” I say, as I take in one picture of him with a bunch of hockey medals.

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