Page 18 of Don't Forget Me
“I don’t normally crush on actors, but Nick Jacobs could call me any time.” Elizabeth sighed as she leaned her head back against the couch cushion.
“I knew this movie was a bad idea.” Booker groaned, his lips pulling into an indulgent smile.
Their Sunday afternoon movies were a tradition they’d started when she spent most of her time in the hospital. One day a week, she’d refused to let her dad bring the kids to visit. It was supposed to be their cancer-free day, the kind of day she hadn’t gotten at the time.
Booker would stop in after his shift, bringing food usually only he ate. At first, she knew it was because he felt sorry for her, but somewhere along the way, they’d become friends, better than friends.
Unlike most other friends she’d had, he didn’t run away from her cancer. He ran toward it.
Now, cancer free, this was a sacred tradition they didn’t break.
“Mom.” Owen ran into the room. “Evelyn stabbed me with a sword.”
Evelyn followed a moment later. “Duh, that’s what you do when you’re a knight.”
“Ev, don’t say duh to your brother.” Elizabeth eyed them. “If you two don’t play nice, we’re going to make you watch our kissy movie with us.”
Both kids heaved like they were puking, perfect mimics of each other.
“Okay, okay.” Elizabeth threw a pillow at them. “Get out of here.”
Booker flashed a grin as he watched them run back to the playroom. “They’re getting too old.”
“Tell me about it.”
“So, Nick Jacobs… that’s the kind of man you want?”
“Well, no. It’s his characters I love. I’ve heard the actor is kind of a douche. Though, I’d probably pass out if I ever met him. He’s so pretty.”
Booker shifted uncomfortably, giving her a look out of the corner of his eye she tried to ignore. He wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings for her, but for once in her life, Elizabeth just wanted a friend, someone with no other motive.
It wasn’t that she could never imagine herself feeling that way for Booker, and sure, she wanted to fall in love, but right now she needed to focus on herself and her family.
The credits rolled, and Booker got to his feet. “I should probably get home.”
“I’ll get my keys.” She unfolded her legs and stood. Booker’s Jeep had been in the shop all weekend, so she’d picked him up. “Dad, I’m taking Book home,” she called. “I’ll be back to cook dinner in a few.”
“Sure thing, honey!”
By the time she dropped Booker off, it was getting late, so she stopped at the family’s favorite Italian restaurant for takeout—a rare treat. She loved to cook and was good at it, so they rarely ate anything not prepared at home.
Back in the old Honda, she turned on her favorite Keith Urban song on Spotify and rolled her window down, letting the hot summer air lift the hair off her neck. There was a time she wasn’t sure she’d see much of this town again. She loved her home. The beaches stretching along the coast, the Italian architecture with orange roofs and stone archways.
She even loved the Florida heat.
Her phone rang, and she glanced at the screen in her car, sighing when Corey’s name appeared. He rarely called, and when he did, their conversations didn’t go particularly well.
“Corey.” She kept her tone flat. “What do you want?”
“Is that any way to greet the father of your children?”
When he’s a father who abandoned them, yes, but she didn’t say that. “Speak.” She’d once loved Corey with an intensity that hadn’t let her see his flaws.
Like how he was always running late or the way he didn’t meet her eyes every time he lied.
“Okay.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’m just going to rip the Band-Aid off. I’m moving back to town and want to get to know my kids.”
Elizabeth hadn’t seen the words coming, but they shattered something deep inside her moments before the tree shattered her car.
