Chapter 21
I met Elijah’s eyes in the rearview mirror for the twentieth time as we pulled up to my house. And like the nineteen times before this one, he smirked, which made my stomach flutter. My stomach had never fluttered before. I didn’t hate the feeling.
Mom, who sat in the passenger seat, was grumbling about an exercise the physical therapist made her do and how much it hurt her shoulder.
She hadn’t suspected an elevator make-out, I knew that much.
We had managed to compose ourselves in time and were standing feet apart when those doors opened, but she also hadn’t warmed up to Elijah at all.
I turned off the ignition and hopped out to get the wheelchair ready. But by the time it was set up and I was wheeling it around the car, Elijah was already carrying my mom up to the front door sans wheelchair.
“It’s easier this way,” I heard him saying.
“This is dangerous,” my mom said. “You’ll drop me.”
“I haven’t dropped a person yet. I’m very strong.”
I abandoned the wheelchair and rushed around them with the keys to unlock the front door, noting how unimpressed my mom seemed by Elijah’s declaration. He was probably just adding evidence to the smooth-talker file she’d started on him.
“You don’t seem strong,” she said. “You seem like you’re struggling.”
“Sorry,” I mouthed to him.
He just gave me a wink. “I’m not struggling at all. You are as light as a feather.”
My mom grunted at the words.
I swung open the door and he carried her inside, setting her carefully on the couch. I went to collect the wheelchair.
After dropping it off inside, I walked him out, shutting the door to the house and lingering on the porch.
“I’m not used to parents not liking me,” he said. “It’s weird.”
I laughed. “You should actually feel special, she usually likes strangers.” It was me she didn’t like.
He grabbed his heart. “Ouch. Was that supposed to help?”
“I know, such a hard truth.”
“I’ll win her over,” he said.
“Good luck.” I looked over my shoulder back at the door. “She needs her meds, so…”
“Of course,” he said.
I wondered if we were going to talk about the elevator kiss. Or repeat the kiss here on the doorstep. Considering I’d just told him I had to take care of my mom, I wasn’t surprised when he walked away without any physical contact.
About halfway down the path to his car, he turned around and walked backward a few steps. “I’ll see you this weekend for the party at my parents’.”
I nodded and he smiled, then turned and jogged the remainder of the way to his car. I went back inside. I wasn’t sure what expression I had on my face, but my mom just shook her head and said, “I don’t like him.”
I didn’t know why that bothered me so much. I’d given up trying to impress my mom years ago when I realized she was unimpressible. But for some reason, in that moment, it dug into my chest and I snapped, “He just spent half a day helping you, maybe you can find some gratitude in there somewhere.”
That all happened the day before, and a good night’s sleep had done nothing to improve Mom’s opinion because I was greeted with, “I didn’t like him,” again this morning.
“Yeah, Mom, I know. Have you been thinking about that all night or something?”
“It’s important to make opinions clear.”
“Well, it’s as clear as crystal. Thanks.”
“You’re angry,” she said.
“I’m frustrated,” I responded.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because there is no basis for your opinion about Elijah. You don’t even know him.”
“It’s a gut feeling,” she said. “I’ve learned to listen to those.”
How have your gut feelings worked out in regard to Dad? That’s what I wanted to say, but I knew that was a low blow, and even though she was into low blows, I wasn’t. I was into avoidance, apparently. “How is your arm feeling today?”
“Sore,” she said.
“And your head?”
“Still there,” she said.
I thought that was her attempt at a joke, so I offered a stiff smile and got her coffee and a banana. Then I went to my room to make more work calls or give myself some space to cool off.
Next to my computer was the homework sheet Dr. Franklin had given Elijah and me.
It was the size of a regular piece of printer paper.
It was laid out like a dinner date. The phrase hors d’oeuvre was followed by a waxy square meant to be scratched off to reveal …
something. I wasn’t sure what. Under that were the words appetizer, main course, palate cleanser, dessert, and nightcap.
Each had its own scratch-off box. A whole meal.
Meant for soon-to-be-married couples. I was dying to know what activities Dr. Franklin wanted engaged couples to do for a perfect date night.
I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just scratch off the boxes and find out.
I shook my head. I was getting distracted. Tara should’ve been doing this sheet. Maybe I should take it to her.
Speaking of Tara, I grabbed my phone and dialed her number. She picked up on the third ring. “Hello.”
“Hi, do you have a minute or are you at work?”
“It’s my day off. But hold on, let me go into the other room.”
“Why?” Michael called after her. “Is that your other boyfriend?”
“Yes!” she called back. “Her name is Sutton, and I have scheduled a make-out session later!”
“I approve!” he said.
I rolled my eyes.
A door shut and then into the phone she said, “Sorry, okay. Hi, I do not have an audience. So? Are you calling to give me an update?”
“I think this therapist is clueless. Despite what you saw yesterday, I don’t know how anyone could mistake Elijah and me for an engaged couple.”
“Huh. What’s her name? Maybe I can do some behind-the-scenes legwork. Drop her some cryptic message like What if a couple you were seeing was pretending to be engaged? What would you do? Maybe that will get her thinking about all the people she’s seeing. Maybe you’re her only couple.”
I thought about that for a minute, but it didn’t sit right. Tara had made the bet. She needed to see it through without cheating and face the outcome she’d been willing to risk. “I don’t think lying is a good way to trick Michael into therapy.”
“You’re right. I guess I just have to accept the inevitable. Realize I love the guy and have faith in our relationship without a professional having a good, solid look at it.”
“I wish Michael would willingly go. If it can strengthen the bond of strangers, imagine what it would do for an actual couple.”
“Right?!”
“But I think Elijah sees how it can help now. I hope he’ll convince Michael.”
“That would be nice. Oh! I heard you’re coming to the fundraiser this Saturday.”
“Am I going to regret saying yes?”
“I mean, it’s not a rock concert. It’s a fundraiser. But actually, maybe that’s more your scene.”
I blinked, a stab of hurt in my chest. Good old boring, reliable Sutton who would much rather go to a charity event than an actual party.
Or maybe this was more about how I had let her down in school.
Hadn’t put myself out there for her. I’d apologized ages ago, but it was obviously still lingering.
I wasn’t sure what else I could say about it.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she wasn’t implying anything by her statement. Just making a joke. Jokes were meant to be laughed at. So I laughed.