by Sandra Alex
That gets a little smile. “I’m anaphylactic for peanuts and tree nuts, and yes, I can attribute that to my mother. You?”
I shake my head and chuckle softly. “No. I don’t have any food allergies.” Gesturing to her forearm, which bears a Medic-Alert bracelet, I ask. “Is that what the bracelet is for?”
She looks at it dangling from her arm. “Yeah.” She sighs. “It’s too bad they didn’t have these or the knowledge that they do now back when my mom was a kid. She might not have suffered so badly.”
The look on her face says that there’s much more to this story, but I don’t press. “Should I make something up?” I joke.
“Sure. You think he’s going to check?”
“He might make you check.” I tease.
She scoffs. “As long as that’s all I have to do.” A pause. “I should get paid by the hour to take this class.”
I smile. “It’s not so bad. At least he had a cool way of getting the class acquainted. Normally professors just make us all stand up and,” I air quote in a singsong voice. “tell us something about yourself,”
“Yeah,” she agrees, “Are you just starting up in a program?”
“Na, I’m pre-med. This is a make-up for me.”
She nods. “Ah,” she draws in a deep breath, “This…is going to be a long road for me. I’ll be in school until retirement at this rate.”
Gladstone calls out to the class to reconvene. “Well, at least you’ll have your little cut up numbers to get you by.”
She smiles as we both rise off the floor. I gesture for her to go ahead of me into the classroom.
“Thanks.” She says with a little wink, and I know she means it. Suddenly I get the feeling that what I’ve conjured up in my head about this girl is all wrong.
Chapter 5
Kayla
I thought… I was going…to die. I think I’d rather die than have that experience again. It took everything in me not to cry when I realized who this guy sitting in front of me was. I thought I’d never see him again. I’d rather never see him again. And suddenly I was angry. So angry. At myself. At my friends. At Nick. At everybody. And I lashed out at Daniel for a moment. I could have told him the truth, but I’m sure he’s got some preconceived notion in his head that I’m some kind of slut that was just out to get laid and I ran into an ex-boyfriend or something. But I knew that nothing I said would be believable, so I went for vague, and it worked. Somehow, I think Daniel doesn’t want to know any more about me than he needs to. Works for me.
We head back into class and stand together at the side of the classroom, mirroring all the other duos, and read out our answers as Gladstone points to each of us.
“You’ve still got your numbers?” Daniel teases.
“Are you trying to be cute?” I ask under my breath. He just chuckles softly as Gladstone passes by us. Turns out, he never asked us for our answers, but instead told the rest of us that we would finish off during next class. As he dismisses us, I head back to my desk and grab my things, stuffing them in my backpack. Daniel seems to have dismissed me as well, thank God. I walk to the cafeteria, realizing that I’m starving, and I have a twenty dollar bill burning in my pocket. The sandwich stand is still open, so I get in line and order the biggest honking sandwich I can find. I get the guy to at least cut it in half, in case I can’t eat it all, but I doubt it.
Stuffing my face, I look up and see Daniel waiting in line at the sandwich stand. I try for nonchalant, and look at the closed bookstore next to me, as if trying to decipher it’s working hours. Praying he’ll make his order to go, I keep my eyes trained on the store, until he walks my way, and I can’t avoid looking.
“Hey,” he says, and I can sense the hesitation. It’s as if he knows I must have seen him, and it would be rude for him to ignore me. I’m almost embarrassed, since my mouth is crammed with food. I nod hello as I continue chewing. “Are you waiting on anyone, or do you mind if I sit?”
Oh, this should be about as fun as talking to my grandmother about sex. “No, go ahead.” I answer, covering my full mouth with my hand.
“Did you look at the project? Looks killer.” He comments.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t expect anything less, especially now that we’ve met our professor.”
“He’s a bit of a weenie. But I think that he can be cool if you suck up to him.” Daniel sets his sandwich in front of him and opens the paper. It’s embarrassing because his sandwich is actually smaller than mine, and this guy has to weigh at least two hundred and thirty pounds, all muscle, and he’s got at least four inches in height on me.
“I think I should be able to pull that off.” I scoff.
“You already have. He’s chosen you as teacher’s pet.” He takes a bite.
“Lucky me.”
We’re quiet for a few moments while we eat. I’m not being shy at all about wolfing down the food. I’m starved and I don’t care at this point. Daniel happily chews and swallows, not feeling or not caring to feel obligated to carry on idle chatter.
“I’ve got a shift at the hospital soon and I don’t have time to go shopping.” Daniel explains, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “My brother ate all my food and he doesn’t have the decency to replace it.”
“Younger brother?” I ask.
“Yeah. He’s a pain in the ass.”
“Sounds like. I’m an only child.”
“Wow, you are lucky. My parents tried for a baseball team. Came close, too.”
I look up from my sandwich, which is almost completely eaten. I’m actually eying his sandwich, too. “How many siblings do you have?”
“Four. Three older, one younger. The little punk is the one who lives with me.”
“All brothers?”
“No, one sister. But they’re all in combat.”
I don’t want to get personal with this guy, so I change the subject. “Do you have any ideas on what your final project will be about?”
Gladstone gave us a list of options. I haven’t decided unanimously yet; I’m torn between two.
“Fortunately, I work with a nutritionist at the hospital, so this should be pretty easy for me.” he gestures at me with his chin. “What about you?”
I tell him about the two topics I have in mind. He gives me his suggestion, but I notice that he doesn’t offer to introduce me to this said nutritionist he works with. He’s clearly at an advantage.
“I have an overweight friend. Maybe she can help me out.” I say, only half joking. Heather would die if I asked her.
“I think I know the one.” Daniel doesn’t look at me when I say that. He continues eating his sandwich. “She was at the bar, right?”
“That’s the one.” I nod, taking the last bite of my sandwich.
“She must hate you.” He says, grinning at me with my mouth crammed.
“Ha…ha.” I cover my mouth when I say that. “And yeah, she does hate me sometimes.” I swallow. “She’s my best friend though, and she has many more up on me.”
I realize the second that statement comes out that it’s an invitation for prodding. Daniel doesn’t take the bait though. I like it that he leaves things vague. He isn’t forcing us to converse. Maybe he has things in his life that he doesn’t care to discuss, too. Fine by me.
“Did you check out my friend Greg’s shirt? Pretty funny, huh.” He scoffs, chuckling under this breath.
“I saw a meme like that on Facebook before. I described it to my mother…err…because she’s blind, and she said it’s very truthful.” Telling people that my mother is blind has come natural to me for so long that it doesn’t faze me…ever.
Something changes in Daniel’s face. He looks up at me with a strange expression. Like he wants to ask but at the same time he doesn’t want to impose. My mother is safe territory to talk about. I’m so used to it with healthcare professionals and the like. Plus, Daniel is pre-med, so it’s a little comforting to discuss my mother if he chooses to. “How did she become blind?”
�
��She had a stroke.” I leave out the part about how many other medical things she’s ‘had’.
He nods. “Something tells me there’s a lot more to that story. Based on the fact that you said she suffered from severe food allergies, too.”
I give him a tight-lipped grin. “My mom is like one of those villains you see at the end of a gangster movie. Where they keep shooting the bad guy over and over again, and he just won’t die.” I pause. “Only, my mom is an angel, and this is reality, not a movie.”
“You’re close to your mother.” He states.
“Very. She’s my everything, including a pain in the ass.” I chuckle good-naturedly.
“Is she mobile? After her stroke, I mean.” his chin rests on his hand, in a stance that I take as interest.
“Yes. Although she doesn’t get far. She might as well be immobile.”
“What do you mean…she doesn’t get far?” his head cocks to the side.
“She had a heart attack ten years ago. The doctors told her she wouldn’t live another year. She has to be on oxygen, and she’s out of breath after taking just a few steps.” I pause. “Yet she’ll talk your ear off on her good days.” I smile, thinking about some of the quirky things that have come out of her mouth.
“Is she in your care?”
“Not exactly.” I rattle off the home where she lives.
“My dad had a stroke about three years ago.” Daniel says, after sipping his drink. “Hence the last-minute part-time course.”
“Ah,” I nod.
“I take it by that ‘ah,’ that you’re just as thrilled as I am about the course.”
“Believe it or not, I’m actually so excited I haven’t slept properly in weeks.”
Daniel’s neck cranes back. “Really. Why?”
Ah, what the hell. “I’ve been dreaming of going back to school for years. This is the first chance I’ve had.”
“I get the feeling there’s a lot more to that story, too.” Daniel lifts his brows in a semi-cute expression.
“Kind of.” I purse my lips and nod, just as my phone rings. The ringer indicates that it’s the home calling. “I have to take this. It’s about my mom.” I say, rising from my chair. Daniel nods and waves his hand, as if to say, ‘go, don’t sweat it’. I walk away from him for privacy, and so he doesn’t have to hear me grouse with worry over my ever-ailing mother. “Kayla White.” I answer. Yes, I’m using my maiden name again, regardless of whether or not it’s actually official.
“Hi, Kayla. It’s Crystal from The Oaks.”
“Hi, is my mother okay?”
“She’s had a bit of a fall, but she’s okay. This lady is too spry for her own good. I just wanted to let you know. She’ll be up for a little while longer if you wanted to swing by and see her. I tried to notify your grandmother, but she’s not picking up.”
“That’s because she’s out of town this week. I’m officially on duty.” I answer. “I’ll come by shortly. I’ve just finished up for the night.”
“See you soon.”
I walk back to the table. Daniel’s face isn’t impassive as I expect. It’s more concern.
“She’s just had a fall. I’ll go check on her in a couple of minutes.” I say, taking the last sip of my drink.
Daniel nods. “I’m curious about something, if you don’t mind me asking.” There is a light in his eyes that makes me wonder what he’s curious about.
I invite him to ask. “Shoot.”
“How come you’re starting back up at school when your mother is still in her condition?”
I smile without a trace of mirth. “Because it was never my mother who kept me from doing the things I wanted to do.” I pause, drawing in a breath. Daniel cocks his head sideways, looking very interested in what I’m about to say. He waits.
“It was my ex-husband.”
Chapter 6
Daniel
There’s a lesson learned if I’ve ever used that phrase before. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover. I absolutely get that now. I’m kicking myself for not picking up on the cues sooner. It seems that Kayla and I have a lot in common. Here I made her out to be some two-bit slut out to find the quickest catch that night at the bar. Way off. Way freaking off. So, I’m guessing the pissed off dude that looked like he wanted to make a meal out of me was her ex-husband. I get it. I didn’t ask her any more questions. She had responsibilities to take care of. My medical hat actually went on and I was about to ask her if she needed any help with her mother. If I let my motor mouth go on anymore, I’d have asked her if she wanted me to go with her. But I didn’t. I let her be on her way.
Just as I’m about to cross over into the vestibule where the exit is, I see Greg sitting on a concrete bench that’s situated in the middle of the walking area. “Hey, man. What are you still doing here?” I ask, checking my watch.
“Waiting for my ride.” He says, flipping through his phone.
“You need a ride somewhere?” I offer.
“Nah, that’s okay. My buddy’s on his way. He just ran a bit late is all. He’s got a kid, too. His old lady doesn’t like him trucking me around, so he’s gotta put me at the bottom of the list. It’s cool.” Greg waves, but I sense there’s some trepidation in his voice.
I take a seat beside him, noticing how freaking cold the concrete is on my ass. I wonder how long he’s been sitting here. “You don’t have a ride, man?”
“Long story. Lost my license a couple of years back. DUI.” He purses his lips together and dips his forehead once, indicating that he’s well aware that he fucked up.
“Oh, that’s rough. Sorry, man.” I pat him on the shoulder.
“Yeah. That’s one reason why my old lady and I aren’t together anymore. Lost privileges with Shyla, too. Definitely was not worth it.”
I chuckle. “Ever thought that maybe the reason why you’re not with your old lady anymore is because you call her ‘old lady’? You have any idea how demeaning that is?” I say gently.
“Yeah, but that ain’t all it, man.” He guffaws. “Like I told you, it’s a long story.”
“I get it.” I smile at him. Greg has such an honest face. Like he’s the type of guy who admits when he screws up and does it honorably. Which is a lot more than I can say for my brothers. “Sounds like you’re about to get raked through the coals with this taxi that’s about to pick you up. If his wife doesn’t like you, I’m sure there was a price to pay for him picking you up. Where are you headed, anyway?”
“True. I’ve got an AA meeting at this church by my house.”
“How long did you lose your licence for?”
“It was a year originally.” Greg explains. “But I fell off the wagon a week before my year was up. It was right when Tina, Shyla’s mom, left me. I know it’s a lame excuse, man, but that hurt. I was getting clean and doing really well. She met another guy and it tore me in two.”
“Ouch.” I wince. “How long have you been clean now?”
“Almost a year. I’m hurting though, man. You’re not allowed to get involved with any chicks for the first year, and I’m a hurtin’ unit. I could fuck a brick wall right now I’m so pumped up.”
I lift a hand. “I don’t need to know that.”
“Sorry, man.” Greg chuckles. “Anyway, Tina’s getting married in a couple of months, and look where I am.”
About to put a hand on his leg for comfort, I think twice, considering his previous comment. “Look, man. You aren’t going anywhere in life if you keep feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve got to get a grip. You can do this. When life shot me a lemon, man, I made lemonade. I haven’t had the best luck lately, either. Nobody gets an easy road, okay? But you’ve got to take life by the horns. You have to work at what you want.”
“I hear ya, brother.” Greg says. “But it’s easy to say when you’re not an alcoholic.”
I lift a chin. “How did you get to be an alcoholic?”
“A little of this and that. You know.” He holds his hand out. “Just didn’t kno
w when to stop. Until I drove off the highway one night, into a ravine. Passed out behind the wheel. If it hadn’t been for two skinny dippers doin’ it in the water, I might be dead today, instead of being an alcoholic.” He pauses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Hell, I don’t even remember that much. I only remember waking up in the hospital. I think I was in handcuffs. I know I went to jail that night after they checked me out.”
“So, God gave you a second chance, man. Take it.” I pat his knee and rise. “Look, you sure you don’t want me to take you? Your friend seems to be taking an awful long time getting here. How long have you been waiting?”
“Since class ended. I told him what time it finished.” He winces, as if admitting that he’s been forgotten or swept under the carpet, is painful. “I don’t live too far from here. I can probably walk it in an hour or so.”
“And what time does your meeting start?”
Greg looks at his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “Come on. I’ll take you.”
Twenty minutes later, I’m home with Christopher. “Well?” he says, with an expectant look on his face. “Meet any deadbeats?”
I smile. “A couple. But I wouldn’t exactly call them deadbeats.”
“Really? You? Giving a dog a bone. Not my skeptical, grumpy-ass brother.”
“Piss off.” I murmur, opening the fridge, getting the pitcher of water out. “That girl from the bar was there though. That kinda threw me for a loop.”
He turns around, interested. “No shit. What’s she doing there?”
“The same as me, stupid. Taking a course.”
“Was she as hot for you as she was that night?” he teases.
I don’t take the bait. “Go watch some porn. Get it out of your system.”
Christopher is my height, but he looks more like mom than dad, whom I resemble. He’s wearing a baseball cap to hide the fact that he needs a haircut desperately. Ignoring my comment, he continues. “Were any of her friends there?”
