“Because you need to live a little. And don’t worry.” Ben resumed walking down the sidewalk. “That is why the lights are dim. You won’t even be able to see the cesspool that you’re bowling in.”
Solomon sighed. No sense in backing out now.
“Robert, Elliot, Trey, good to see you guys!” He greeted the men with fist bumps and followed Ben to a lane. Wings and a few drinks were already set up on the table. He should’ve eaten before he came. This definitely felt like an experiment that he would regret later.
He pasted on a bright smile and shook hands with the group. They were already ribbing each other and cracking jokes that eased some of the tension from his shoulders. Yeah, he probably needed this.
“I’m going to get my shoes. Ben, what size for you? I’ll grab yours.”
Ben responded and gave him an order for more wings and a Coke. Solomon hoped they had some sparkling water and maybe a crudité platter with ranch dipping sauce. Nah, who was he kidding? He was gonna get something fried. That’s just the way it had to be over here at the bowling alley. As much as he tried to limit his intake of those types of foods, none of it mattered when he was with relatives at Nigerian gatherings. Those cheat moments were worth it.
After giving his request to the teenage counter attendant, he forced himself to ignore the germs probably swarming on the counter and leaned against its surface.
“Doctor?”
He turned around to see if there was a patient somewhere who had recognized him, or better yet, who he recognized. As his eyes adjusted to the light coming in through the front doors, two figures came into focus—one with a curly bob hairstyle and the other with a dark ponytail. One with freckles spilled across her pale face and the other with her mouth tipped into a smile, her cheekbones glowing against her copper skin.
“Kenya.” He hoped his voice didn’t come out as squeaky as it seemed to his ears. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been asking myself, and her, the same thing on our drive over.” Kenya’s friend looked amused.
Solomon chuckled, remembering the banter between these two in the hospital room. “Good to see you again...?”
“Dedra,” she offered. “And you.” The freckles on her cheeks lifted as she smiled.
He wondered if she knew anything about his and Kenya’sagreement.
Kenya hobbled over. The way her hands were positioned at her sides made her look slightly penguin-like. “Can I not immerse myself in the nighttime activities of our great Rocket City?”
This woman.“You can, but as an adjacent-to-your-care physicaltherapist, I would have recommended that you participate in something a little less active, and greasy.”
Kenya waved his words away. “Let me live, people.”
“We are trying to help you remain uninjured.” Dedra shook her head but still walked to the front of the shoe rental counter, a hesitant but willing participant.
“After you, Doctor. You were in line before us.” Kenya extended her arm toward the counter.
“I’ve been helped already.” He grabbed his and Ben’s bowling shoes off the counter.
“Oh, well, I guess we’ll be seeing you.” Kenya’s face held what looked like disappointment, but she recovered it behind a bright smile.
“It’s okay, I’ll wait. I’m curious to see what size bowling shoe will fit over your ankle brace.”
“Har-har.” Kenya tossed his comment away with a flick of her hand. She turned to one of the attendants and ordered an ungodly amount of food. The appetizer tray alone made his heart pound faster.
“Are you sure about this?”
She gave him a look over her shoulder that felt very reminiscent of the looks his mother leveled at him from time to time. “You can be my pseudo physical therapist, my emergency chauffeur”—she lowered her voice—“and even my extended fake second dater, but you are not my food administrator.”
Solomon covered his laugh in a cough. For all her attempts at feistiness, she seemed to buzz with excitement as she drummed her fingers on the counter in anticipation. He wouldn’t steal that from her for the world. But he was still a doctor of physical therapy, so ... “I’m just saying.”
“Say less and live.” She smirked, batting her eyelashes. Challenge written all over her face.
Okay, he could match that energy. “Do you guys have a lane yet?”
Dedra turned, carrying her shoes and a single one for Kenya’s uninjured foot, he presumed. “Not yet. We thought we would just eat and wait for one to open.”
“Why don’t you join us? There’s five of us guys, and a few didn’t show up. We have room for two more.”
