Page 79 of Give Me a Shot

You probably don’t need your official garb, since it’s only advertising photos.

Mo:

You’re probably right.

Class is starting in a minute, gonna go. Please don’t stress too much about it today.

Okay, I won’t.

She sent a winking emoji, and Mo smiled again. Then he tucked it away.

Mo:

Have a good day, m’lady.

Jess:

You too, m’lord

—

That evening, as he took a long shower and scrubbed the grime from under his nails, Mo finally felt like it was safe to let his feelings unfurl. Madison was at Diane’s, so there wouldn’t be any questions to answer. He didn’t have to hide the fact that, now that he and Jess might be a thing, he didn’t know what to do with himself.

He’d just sat down to trim and file his nails when he heard a crash and a muffled thud from next door. He snatched his keys off the hook and rushed over.

“Mrs. Sargysan!” he called out after letting himself in. At first there was no answer. He called out again as he started walking down the hall. He reached the kitchen and found her on the floor.

“Mrs. Sargysan are you all right?” he asked, kneeling down beside her. The kitchen light was off, the tablecloth and assorted broken dishes were on the floor. Mo pushed the upturned chair out of the way and leaned over her.

She groaned. Mo started breathing again. He took another look at her and all of her limbs were at the correct angles, so maybe she hadn’t broken anything. She began to sit up.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. “Maybe lie still for another minute?”

“The floor is cold, Mo,” she said, voice scratchy. “Are you really going to make an old woman lie on a cold floor?”

At least her spunk was intact.

“No, of course not,” he said. “But what if your hip’s broken?”

“Impossible,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling herself up. “That one’s titanium.”

Mo sat back on his heels and looked around again. The chair, the broken dishes. It was too dark to see well. He jumped up to flip the light switch, but nothing happened. He went back over and looked at the light fixture. No bulb. Then he caught sight of one in the corner on the floor and the pack of new bulbs on the counter.

“Mrs. Sargysan,” he said. “Did you try to change the lightbulb?”

“So what if I did?” she said, still sitting on the floor. She reached for his hand.

“I don’t want you to get up yet,” he said.

“Who said you have a vote?” she asked, beginning to push herself up. He bent down to wrap his arm around her waist and lift her into the chair that was still upright.

“Are you sure you didn’t break anything?” he asked, squatting in front of her. “Does anything hurt?”

“Mo, at my age, everything hurts. But nothing too out of the ordinary right now.”

He couldn’t tell if her color was right, but her breathing was back to normal. He frowned.

“Why didn’t you call me? I was home,” he said. She put a wrinkly hand on his shoulder.

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