The Baller: A Down and Dirty Football Novel(48)
“Lena?”
She groaned in response and rolled over.
By the time I returned to the kitchen, Abby was already halfway through cupcake number two. Curiosity had me opening the refrigerator. Damn. It was emptier than mine. Way emptier. An expired carton of milk, some ketchup, a jar of pickles—with only the juice left—and a Tupperware with something moldy inside. The kitchen cabinets didn’t fare much better.
“I’ll be right back, okay? Lock the door . . . wait for me to knock.”
Abby spoke with her mouth full. “Okay.”
My apartment wasn’t exactly stocked with a gourmet feast, but I could make sure Abby had a full belly. I made a quick peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich and grabbed the half-empty carton of milk from my refrigerator before going back.
“Have you ever tried peanut butter?” The last thing she or her mother needed was for me to load Abby full of something that she was allergic to.
“I used to bring it to school for lunch sometimes. But I have to sit at a different table from Danny Mendez. He’s allergic.”
That made me feel better. I poured a glass of milk and watched her eat before leaving.
But the time I arrived at Dr. Kaplan’s office, it was five after four. She looked at her watch. “You’re late today.”
I plopped down in my usual spot. “Sorry. I had to take care of something.”
She took a notebook, stood from behind her desk, and moved to her usual chair across from me. Flipping to a new page, she wrote the date down before setting the notebook on her lap and giving me her full attention.
“So, what did you have to take care of?”
“I’m not using again, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I didn’t say that you were.”
“No. But I felt it in your tone.”
“It was just a simple question, Willow. Let’s not get started on the wrong foot today.”
Maybe I had jumped to a conclusion she wasn’t hinting at. “I had to make my neighbor a sandwich.”
“Oh? Is she sick?”
“No. She’s five years old. Her mother was sleeping, and I stopped over with cupcakes and realized she was starving.”
“Her mother was sleeping in the middle of the day?”
“Yeah. I thought the same thing. I’m hoping for Abby’s sake I’m wrong. Her mother has been clean for four months.”
Dr. Kaplan nodded and wrote something in her book.
“What could you possibly have written down? That I made a kid a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich?”
“Actually, I noted you befriended a little girl who has a similar home life to yours growing up.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of it that way.
“So . . . how was your week? Did you visit Marlene?”
“I did.”
“And how is that going?”
“Good. Her disease sort of lets me pick up life with her at various spots. She doesn’t seem to realize how long I was gone or remember all of the terrible things I’ve done to her.”
More nodding. “And work?”
“It’s good. My feet are killing me. But the money is good. I’m hoping to save up enough to move to a better neighborhood eventually. I’d like to be closer to my grandmother. It takes more than forty-five minutes on a good day to get to her from uptown.”
“Have you been out socially?”
“No. But that cute guy in the suit asked me out the other day.”
“At the restaurant. The one who asked you out a few weeks ago?”
“He came in with some friends again.”
“And did you agree to go out with him?”
“No.”
“Why not? You said yourself that you thought he was handsome and seemed like a nice guy.”
“I’m not ready yet.”
“Because of Brody?”
“How am I supposed to start dating when I still love another man?”
“People do it all the time. You need to move on, Willow.”
“I know. I’m just not ready.”
“When will you be ready?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m seeing him tomorrow, though.”
“You are?” Dr. Kaplan sounded surprised.
“Don’t get excited. He doesn’t know yet.”
Her forehead creased.
“He visits Marlene every Tuesday. I’ve been avoiding going on that day so I wouldn’t see him.”
“But now you’re going?”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“I’m not sure.” That was a lie. Dr. Kaplan already knew all about my past, but I was embarrassed to admit how selfish I continued to be. Seeing Brody with his girlfriend had changed things. I needed to see for myself that there was no hope for us. Or I’d never be able to move on.
Chapter 24
Brody
“Salmon.” I nodded. Grouper had set up yellow caution cones barricading the section of the floor he was mopping in the main lobby. Snatching two of them, I jogged down the hall and set them four feet apart. “No touchdown pass, then the ball goes to my favorite nurse, Shannon.” I winked at Shannon, who shook her head while smiling. “Shannon wears scrubs with little football players on them on Sundays. Did you wear those this Sunday, Shannon?”