Maybe I was in trouble.
Chapter Eight
Destiny
“Yes! Go! Go! Go!” my mother chanted as we watched the Cougars’ first pre-season scrimmage against the Tennessee Rams. Though it wasn’t a regular season game, our local news channel was airing it.
I laughed when my mother waved her fist in the air as Leonard Riggs ran his second touchdown of the game, into the endzone. “That boy’s good,” she smiled and started in her slurred speech. The Parkinson’s sometimes made it difficult to understand her but I knew what she was saying.
I nodded. “He is.”
“You said you were working with them in training camp, right?”
“Yup. I taught a financial planning seminar to the entire team. Gained a couple of them as clients.”
“That’s good, baby. I hope that Riggs boy takes some of your advice.”
“I think he’s beyond my help, Mama.”
“And that quarterback … woo!”
My back stiffened as I watched my mother’s lips twitch into a grin at the thought of Tyler.
I knew the feeling but I wasn’t going to be sharing that with her.
“I guess he didn’t need any help with his finances considering where he comes from.”
“No, guess not.”
“Think they’re going to win the superdome this year?”
“Super Bowl, Mama,” I corrected. My mother hadn’t been a football fan for very long. She’d only started watching after my father died. He was a diehard football fan and I think it helped her feel closer to him to watch the games each Sunday.
“Super dome, Super Bowl, what’s the difference?”
“Well, the Super Dome is where they play in New Orleans, and the Super Bowl is actually the championship game. So, that’s kind of an important distinction,” I teased.
“Don’t get smart with your mama, girl.”
I laughed. “Sorry, Mama. You want anymore of this cake before I put it away?” I asked as I headed over to the table.
“No, I’m fine. Doctor says my blood sugar was a little high.”
I stopped short from packing up the carrot cake with cream cheese icing I’d brought my mother. It was her second favorite type of cake.
“What? How high was it? Why didn’t you tell me?” I immediately felt guilty about all of the sweets I brought over when I visited. I should’ve known better than to keep bringing a woman her age, and in her condition, all this junk food.
“Don’t do that,” my mother chided. “Stop that. It was only a little high. Nothing to worry about.”
“How high was it, Mama?” I’d forgotten to ask her how her doctor’s appointment earlier in the week had gone. I’d gotten so distracted with work that it slipped my mind.
“Only a few points. The results are over by the computer, see for yourself. Doc says it’s nothing to worry about since I did have the last slice of that chocolate cake right before the visit.”
“Mama, your doctor’s appointment was ten o’clock in the morning. You had chocolate cake for breakfast?” My eyes widened.
“I had it with the almond milk.”
I sighed. In that moment I made the decision to add on the option to have the certified nurse assistants who worked in the building, to come in for meal times to make sure my mother was eating right. Up until that point, I had put it off at my mother’s insistence that she didn’t need the extra help, but no longer.
