4
Wade sank into his parent’s blue cloth couch and stretched his unsteady leg onto the coffee table. Cheering football fans enlivened the television screen. His Nashville team was one step closer to the Super Bowl with a win. He couldn’t fathom a more perfect Sunday than relaxing after church in front of the TV with his favorite sports team.
His mom hurried into the living room, head tilted, trying to secure an earring. Her eyebrows arched as she scanned his jersey and athletic pants.
“If you’re going to change before Cole and Sam arrive, you’d better get a move on. Sam is bringing Emma. The friend we met at Christmas.”
Change? Move on? A shuffle was more like it with his injured leg. His mom’s selective hearing must be getting worse. He’d stated earlier that he wasn’t interested in going on a date and being a ‘plus one’ for Cole and his girlfriend. He wasn’t the Nashville Welcome Wagon, nor was he in the mood for a matchmaking scheme. Cole could entertain Sam and her friend.
“There’s no need to change. I’m not going. Besides we have a slight lead.” He glanced at the score. “You’ll have more fun without me.”
His mom’s mouth gaped. Her death stare had him slouching into the couch cushions for protection.
He’d seen a lot of that incriminating look lately, but he had never officially agreed to this outing. At thirty-two, he was a grown man. His silence wasn’t an ‘I’m in’ to her plans, but a way to keep from saying something that he’d regret. His parents had taken care of him since the accident, but his independence was on the horizon.
“You like barbecue.” Enunciating the dish wouldn’t get him to change his mind. “Besides, Cole is driving all this way to help you and your father stay on top of service calls. The least you can do is eat dinner with him.”
Prodigal son saves the day. Rescues his claw-handed, gimpy brother by keeping the family business afloat. Big whoop. He didn’t need a front row seat to that movie.
Cheers erupted from the stands. Great. He’d missed the red zone catch. His shoulders tensed as he endured the hawk-eyed glare of his mom.
“Cole will understand.” His brother would probably prefer it. Who wants to eat with a man needing a bib? Accidentally knocking over drinks. “I’ll see Cole plenty at the office.”
With her head shaking and her crossed arms, his mother was the poster girl for parental disappointment. Oh no, she brought out the nuclear option—glistening eyes. Couldn’t she understand his aversion to awkward dining? Awkward for him and nobody else.
“It’ll be fine, Mom.” He repositioned his leg and focused on the fourth down conversion.
“I didn’t make anything for you to eat. You’ll have to order in.” The last few words trailed after his mom as she stomped across the foyer and down the hall. A waft of her designer perfume stayed to heap more guilt on him.
Dad appeared from his home office and hooked a thumb in the direction his wife had fled. “What did you do? Your mother seems upset.”
“Nothing.” He squared his shoulders to weather another explosion. Dad hardly ever reprimanded him. They were business partners. Too bad the crash made him a burden at work and at home. His parents had taken him in and had been helping with his recovery. Fortunately, he inched closer to escaping physical therapy prison and moving back to his own place. “I couldn’t be bribed with food to go out with y’all tonight.”
“It’s a family dinner.” Displeasure bubbled under the surface of his dad’s customer-pleasing voice. “And I’m paying.”
“Then you should be happy with one less meal to pay for. And it’s not a family dinner with Sam and her friend sitting across the table.” His jaw clenched. The score increased by seven points. He’d missed the touchdown.
“Suit yourself. But if anything happens—”
“I’ll be fine. Nothing is going to happen to me.” No oil-slick floor waited to take him out again. He had to return to living on his own and in his own house sometime.
Dad ambled over to the end of the couch and stood like a judge about to pronounce a sentence.
“I can’t come back to you on the floor again.” His dad’s statement broke apart in his throat as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I can’t Wade. And I won’t.”
His dad’s emotion threatened to crumble the determination to stay home. Hadn’t he tried to live up to his dad’s expectations? Now he was tarnishing them. How could he go and make a fool of himself, eating and drinking with an unpredictable claw? Oh, how he wished he could get back to calling the shots in his life and not be dependent on others.
The sing-song chimes of the doorbell filled the foyer before the door swung open.
“We’re here.” Cole’s upbeat greeting frayed every damaged nerve in Wade’s hand and sucker punched his gut. Little brother had arrived to receive the accolades that should have been reserved for the son who busted his hump the last few years to grow Donoven and Sons Electric. Cole had abandoned the business to chase his former girlfriend’s music dreams. Now the prodigal arrived to fanfare.
“Come on in.” His dad exuded happiness. Faker. The old man raced to hug Cole and shake hands with Cole’s harem.
Mom raced from her bedroom and embraced Cole, Sam, and the mystery date who practically leapt into his mom’s arms. The woman looked like she’d stepped out of an anime comic with her short dark hair and huge brown eyes. The girl could hypnotize you with one glimpse. He shivered. Not his type.
On cue, the group huggers turned in his direction. Pathetic brother on aisle one.
He grunted a “Hey,” barely lifting his hand off the cushion. Hopefully, they would get the hint that he wasn’t partaking in the festivities by his elevated leg and wrinkled workout clothes. His aftershave could be called eau de stale potato chip.
“Oh, football’s on.” Comic book girl proceeded to rush over to the couch. “It’s a close game.”
She hovered behind him, over his left shoulder. Couldn’t she have stayed by the door? If he was rude and ignored her, he’d get an earful from his parents. A headache pulsed behind his temples, so he didn’t need another lecture this evening. He shifted and made brief eye contact.
“I’m Emma.” Her hand shot out as if she was catching a short five-yard pass. This girl was pushy too. “You must be Wade. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Cole and Sam had no business discussing his situation with strangers. Hadn’t they heard about medical privacy? It wasn’t his fault some guy sped through a red light and smashed into his work van. He shifted and shook her hand with his healthy one, deciding against a death grip. The girl would be gone momentarily, and he could get back to the game.
“Well, I haven’t heard anything about you.” The truth sprung from his mouth before he could censor himself. He’d use his pain as an excuse. His claw had begun to throb.
A disgruntled huff came from the vicinity of the foyer. His mom would give him a tongue lashing later about proper introductions.
“That might be a good thing.” His almost-date barked out a laugh and leaned over the back of the couch. She fingered a silver necklace, rubbing it like a genie might appear. “I’m not popular with some people at the moment.”
Her hundred-watt smile had him squinting as the stranger invaded his personal space. Couldn’t he finish watching the game in peace? He didn’t want to make conversation with a woman he’d never see again.
“Good to meet you then, Emma.” He forced a grin hoping the measure was enough to please his mother.
“Wade, we’re heading out.” His dad’s announcement garbled the game analysis.
Thank You, Lord. Seconds until solitude.
“Have fun.” Wade stifled an elated grin.
Emma propped her hip on the back of the sofa. “You’re not going with us?” She stared at his elevated leg like she was an orthopedist. “You’re staying by yourself?”
Captain Obvious in a spiky wig.
“I don’t want to be the fifth wheel.” He’d be the sixth wheel, but who was counting except the matchmaking squad.
The couch squatter yawned and fanned a hand in front of her face. “You know, after driving to Tennessee, staying up late, and all the craziness of the past two days, I don’t mind hanging out here with you. There’s nothing like Sunday night football.”
What did she say? He whipped around sending shock waves into his shoulder. ‘No’ boomed through his brain. He didn’t need company, or this woman thinking this was a date, or worse, her thinking she was a babysitter.
His mother’s smile hit him like a laser.
“If you’re sure, Emma? Make yourself at home.” His mom’s tone bled sugar. “Our card’s on file at the pizza place. Wade has the number in his phone.”
“Glad you’re feeling better, Wade.” Sam waved as Cole tugged her toward the door.
Cole gave him a salute. “Have fun. Eat a slice for me.”
“Wait.” He rocked to grab his cane and came up short.
His family disappeared like they were dashing to the finish line of a 5K race.
This couldn’t be happening. His loved ones were leaving him with a yappy Yankee.
Emma kicked off her shoes and curled into the chair next to the couch. Mom would have scolded him if he placed his feet on the cloth cushion.
“Do you like thin crust or thick?” Her cheerful tone seemed well-rested. “Can we get half the pizza without meat? I like extra cheese instead of sausage or pepperoni.”
The opposing team’s receiver danced in the end zone.
Could this day get any worse? So much for his solitude.
As fans cheered, a hot flash of pain traveled down his arm. He grabbed his phone with his healthy hand to place the pizza order while his other arm tingled. His claw had awakened, and so had Sam’s friend.