Page 74 of Chosen Road

I gently broached the subject of internet safety, and her back went up so fast I feared she wouldn’t be back next week.

She didn’t trust anyone, including me.

She did not have one person in her life who had been there longer than a year or two. At that point, I may have been her longest running relationship and I knew more about the assistant at my local pharmacy than I did about Mallory.

I reluctantly moved Mallory’s file to the left. There was only so much I could do.

I counted the files on my right and wondered, again, what kind of case load my colleagues carried. To hear them talk, they had vibrant lives on the weekends and even made plans on weekdays.

Were they not doing as much as me? Did they have a smaller caseload? Was I inefficient? Did they have resources I did not?

Hm, I was not much of a team player. Perhaps I’d request a group meeting and present Mallory’s case to see if anyone could give me any additional insight.

Having a plan relieved some of the weight from my shoulders and I happily tackled the rest of my pile, finishing much earlier than I imagined.

I poked around in the kitchen, took out one of the casseroles that Minty made when Yiayia was in the hospital, and put it in the oven to defrost and cook.

I made Yiayia a snack and hooked up the Greek TV channel Gus added to the cable for her. Maybe I’d finally learn the language if she was watching Greek TV.

I lost interest quickly, while Yiayia sat enthralled.

Taking my kindle from my bag, I curled up on one end of the couch, Yiayia on the other, and read my latest find until Gus and Alex came back, and Gus passed me a cardboard box filled with tissue paper.

“What’s this?” I asked, surprised.

I peeked into the tissue and began to laugh.

“You were jealous, Momma,” Alex asserted. “We could tell you were jealous of Yiayia’s plants, so Dad wanted to get you one. But I told him about all the plants we bought for the condo and how they all died. So, he got you a cactus. He said you can’t kill a cactus.”

I looked up to see Gus grinning, and I laughed. I ran my fingers lightly over the sharp prickles of my little plant. “Thank you.” My husky voice betrayed my emotion, and I tensed.

“It’s nothing,” Gus replied, his voice soft, hesitant.

“What are we having for dinner?” Alex’s question broke the tension between us.

By that time, Minty’s casserole was ready. I set the table and sat down in my usual spot, where I had not planted my ass in well over a year, and ate dinner with my husband, our son, and our yiayia.

I thought it would be awkward, but it felt right.

Gus sat at the head of the table with me on his right, Alex on his left, and Yiayia facing him.

I served the food, family style, and filled Yiayia’s plate first, before sitting down.

Gus dipped down, ran his palm along the back of my bare leg and tucked his ankle under mine.

Alex chatted away about his day with his cousin, his dad, and his uncle, entertaining all of us.

Yiayia yelled at everybody to eat and eat some more while telling me to ask Minty for the recipe.

While Alex played Connect 4 with Yiayia, Gus and I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher together, our shoulders and hips bumping here and there as we worked side by side.

“Amber, you know that I love you?”

I thought about it. I did know that. “Yes.” I wondered if he knew that I loved him. Surely, he knew.

“Um… Gus?”

“Yes, beautiful?”

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