In a bad twist of fate, my mom and her wheelchair and a nurse were waiting on the other side.
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 withthe keys to unlock the front door, noting how unimpressed my mom seemed by Elijah’s declaration. He was probably just adding evidence to thesmooth-talkerfile 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 theremainder 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.”
