Page 5 of When He Saved Me
“Are you a writer?” I asked.
He glanced at his notebook before turning back to me. “Of sorts,” he responded, then turned away, effectively dismissing me.
I smiled, though he couldn’t see it. Picking up my coffee, I stood and pulled out the chair opposite him. “What does that mean? ‘Of sorts.’”
He paused, the point of his pen still resting on the page, mid-word. He finished the rest of the sentence, then let out a resigned sigh before clicking the pen, closing the notebook, and sitting back in his chair to eye me with a mixture of irritation and suspicion.
“Why do you want to know?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Curiosity, I guess.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“What if I want to?”
He eyed me, likely trying to determine my sanity, before letting out a humorless chuckle. “You’re not my type. And I gotta get back to work.” He swept up his notebook and pen and walked away without looking back.
* * *
“Mom!”I called out, catching the door before it slammed behind me. I dropped my backpack in the mudroom, removed my shoes, and hung up my coat before heading into the kitchen. Aunt Cathy, my mom’s sister, stood at the stove, stirring something in a large pot. I came up behind her, peering over her shoulder to see what she was making, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Mmm. Potato Soup. My favorite!”
“I know,” she said with a wink before reaching into the cabinet to fetch some bowls.
“Here, let me help you,” I said as I reached above her, easily pulling them off the second shelf. My six-three frame towered above her. Both Aunt Cathy and my mom were small in stature. I’d inherited my height and broad build from my dad.
“Thank you, sweetie,” she said as she began ladling soup into two bowls.
“Are you not joining us?” I asked.
“No. I’ve got to run and pick up Cody from swim practice, but there’s a warm loaf of beer bread on the counter and honey butter and toppings for the soup in the fridge.”
She moved past me, sliding her arms into her coat and picking up her purse.
“I could have picked Cody up on my way and saved you a trip.”
“No worries, honey. You just enjoy some quality time with your mom.”
I hugged her and then pulled back, asking, “How is she today?”
I saw the tightness in her expression, just a flash and then gone, before she replaced it with a reassuring smile. “She’s slept quite a bit today, but that’s to be expected after having treatment yesterday.”
I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Thanks for all your help. You know she—we—appreciate you.”
“I know,” she said softly. “You’re a good kid.” She patted my cheek and then exited through the garage.
I returned to the kitchen, shoving the somber mood down while I prepared a tray with soup, bread, and a cup of Mom’s favorite herbal tea. Sometimes her treatments made her nauseous, but it was important she at least try to eat in order to keep her strength up.
I headed down the hall to the guest bedroom she’d moved into about a month ago when going up and down the stairs to the primary had become too taxing for her. I’d also moved into a room on this floor so I was more accessible if she needed anything. Her door was closed but not latched, so I nudged it gently with my toe and entered quietly.
The bedside lamp cast a soft glow across her features, making her skin appear rosy, though I knew that was just a trick of the light. It had been a while since I’d seen anything resembling a rosy glow in her features. I carefully set the tray on the bedside table and perched a hip on the edge of the bed, taking her hand.
“Mom,” I said softly, wanting to wake her but not startle her. Her eyes fluttered open, clear and bright, and her lips curved in a smile.
“Jamie,” she croaked, and I quickly reached for her water bottle, always nearby. She took a sip, cleared her throat, and started again. “Hey, sweet boy. How were your classes?”
“I was a few minutes late to Ad Psych today, but thankfully I snuck into the back and the professor didn’t notice. And I got my paper back in my Women in Lit course and got an A!”
“Oh baby, that’s awesome! I know how hard you worked on that one.”
