Page 15 of To Save Him

“I can drive you if you want.” I promise to keep my hands to myself.  Honest.

“That’d be cool.”  Almost to himself, he said, “Wonder if I need a résumé or something.”

“I could probably help you with that—but do you want to see what jobs are out there first?”

“Yeah, I guess I should.”

My mind was on the notion of what he might need if hegota job.  “What about, um, identification?  You know, like a license or ID.  And I think they’ll need your social security card too.  Do you need to get any of that stuff?”

“No, I have my driver’s license.  It’s just for Virginia.  I hope that’s okay.  I also have my social security card and a military ID.”

That was good—a few less things to obtain.  He’d probably need a Colorado driver’s license at some point if he planned to stay, but a picture ID was the most important thing.  I could maybe even let him drive if I felt so inclined.

JR came bounding down the stairs and into the kitchen.  Every once in a while, my middle schooler would ask for a second breakfast because he was a growing boy and I half expected that.  Instead, though, he handed me a piece of paper.  “Mom, can you sign this?  It’s due today.”

We’d been here before.  The kids were leaving in less than five minutes.  “Couldn’t think to bring this to me last night when you were doing your homework?”

“I forgot.  Sorry.”

I started looking over the form.  It was a permission slip for the kids on the baseball team at JR’s school to attend a minor league game in Colorado Springs—the home team of the Sky Sox.  I knew he’d enjoy it but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.  “You’ll be home late today?”

“Yeah, but Phil’s mom said she could give me a ride home.”

As I glanced down the page, I saw that my son also needed cash for food.  Instead of saying a word—which would come across as snippy, thanks to my lack of patience with my son—I got up to go to my bedroom so I could fetch the money out of my purse.

When I returned and handed JR a twenty-dollar bill—the only cash I had—I said, “Have fun.”  He thanked me and then both kids headed for the front door.  “Love you guys.”  I got cursorylove yous back.  Good enough.  I’d gladly take them, especially after being grouchy.

“Field trip?” Brandon asked.

Oh, I hoped I hadn’t made him uncomfortable with my motherly impatience towards my son.  “Yes.  They’re going to a Sky Sox game.  It’ll be fun.  He’s apparently had the note in his backpack since he got on the team.  A heads up would have been nice.  But I guess no harm, no foul.  I had the cash he needed.”  And I needed to change the subject.  I stood so I could put my coffee cup in the dishwasher.  “I make a weekly trip into town.  We don’t live that far out, but I prefer to stay home when I can; otherwise, I don’t focus on work like I should.”  And, ever since the divorce, too many people in Winchester made me think of Mel or my former married status, both of which could induce a depressed mood.  So I had been avoiding people more and more.  When Annabel had a choir concert or JR had a parent-teacher conference, I was there and fully present, but I made as few trips as necessary.  “Anyway, I like to get a latte and then go grocery shopping.  Since you mentioned my cupboards are bare, would you mind helping me out with that?  Oh, and the coffee’s on me.”

Brandon grinned—and it was rather breathtaking.  “Well, I can’t say no to coffee.  Especially with a beautiful woman.”

I smiled again…

But could I believe my ears?  Did he call mebeautiful?  Was he flirting with me or was he just being cute, clever, and charismatic?

And why did I feel the need to jump on it, stumbling through unknown territory, treading in unfamiliar waters?  “I bet you say that to all the women who buy you coffee.”

Was he blushing?  I couldn’t quite tell, even though his face was now clean shaven.  He shook his head, though.  “You’re the first.”

To buy him coffee?  Or that he’d called beautiful?  And why was I feeling insecure all of a sudden like a school girl?

Why the fuck was I crushing on this man I could have been mother to?

More importantly—why did he feel so right to me?

Why?

 

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