Decisions
Between havingColt at her side and the fact that a con was a place Gavin would never allow himself to attend, Natalie felt more relaxed in the crowded convention center than she had in months.
Thank goodness she didn’t let Kaylin talk her into high-heeled boots; they’d spent most of the morning waiting in lines, and the only place to eat lunch would be a snagged spot on the carpet in the lobby. Luckily, Colt insisted on carrying their heavy tote bags of free swag and Kaylin’s newly purchased books and T-shirts, with one boxed rare figurine for Rusty from his favorite anime.
“What sounds good for lunch?” Kaylin asked. “We have junk food, junk food, and more junk food.”
“Can I hear my options again?” Natalie asked, her stomach growling.
“I was going to pack sandwiches for us,” Kaylin said, “but had to work late last night. I barely had time to paint my face this morning.” She waved her hand under her chin, emphasizing the golden flourishes that rimmed her eyes in homage to C-3PO.
Natalie’s phone vibrated in her purse. “You guys get in line. I’ll be just a minute.” She answered the call. “Mom?”
Kaylin nodded and joined the back of a line at a concession stand selling nachos and pretzels. Colt followed Natalie out to a veranda.
“I know it’s loud,” Natalie said. “I’m at the comic con with Kaylin.”
“Gavin’s not there, is he?” her mother asked.
“No,” Natalie answered. “I told you; we’re done.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“This time I mean it. Can I call you back? Kaylin is holding my place in line for some food.”
“Okay, I won’t keep you. But that house you were looking at just reduced its price. The realtor says you should jump on it. You know we’d love for you move home. Have you heard back about your interview?”
“They said two weeks, mom.”
Her mother sighed. “What about the house? Will you call them?”
“I haven’t decided yet, mom. It’s a big decision.”
“I don’t like you working in a unit with criminals.”
“They’re not all criminals,” Natalie said. “It’s a locked unit, not a jail facility.”
“But you still need guards there.”
Natalie glanced over at Colt. “It’s just a precaution.”
“I’d feel much better if you worked in a normal emergency room. You should follow up with the hospital here; remind them you’re eager to know what their decision is.”
“Yes, because employers love it when you pressure them,” Natalie said. “Leaving New York is a big deal. I need more time.” She glanced at Colt again, knowing she shouldn’t care this much about leaving someone she just met.
“But you’ll think about it? You seemed on board with the idea while you were here. Don’t get my hopes up.”
“I’ll make a decision soon, I promise. I have to go. Love you, mom.” She ended the call.
“Everything okay?” Colt asked. “You seem frustrated.”
“My mom. She lays it on thick.”
“Mine too. If she had her way, I’d be home kneading dough beside her and my dad.”
“So, are we going with pizza or hotdogs?” Natalie asked.
“I had to draw up a bracket, but pizza won.”
