“I’m not a doctor, just an almost doctor of physical therapy.” Solomon lowered his head in embarrassment as a few patients looked their way.
“That’s easy.” She stood up. “That he is in love with Miss Stewart.”
Jermaine turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. “See.”
Solomon rubbed his hands down his face. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“Nope.” Jermaine checked his watch. “This is supposed to remind you that sometimes priorities change. And that is not a sign of distraction or failure but sometimes a sign that seasons are changing.”
He placed a hand on Solomon’s shoulder. “You, young man, are in the middle of a seasonal shift, and it is good to see. I’ve known you for the last couple of years as you came here on school rotation and then as your licensed supervisor before your test. You have been overly driven with a singular, almost addictive, focus. Like you’re trying to run toward success with wolves nipping at your heels.”
Jermaine laughed. “I was there at your age. And don’t get me wrong, the focus matters, the work matters. But I missed out on so much during that time and in the years after. Lost my first wife and an initial relationship with my oldest child.”
Solomon listened intently. He had not known this information.
“Not because being a DPT and building this clinic was wrong. But because I failed to recognize the seasonal shift. I failed to recognize who was in the room with me.”
He placed his hands on the seat rails. “Watching you and Miss Stewart over the past couple months has been a breath of fresh air. She can’t help but bring sunshine into whatever room she’s in. And you nurtured it, engaged in it, and in doing so allowed yourself to grow.”
Jermaine stood up. “That is the type of physical therapist your patients need. Your skill is not in question, and if something happens with the NPTE, another opportunity will come around again.”
He grinned. “Just don’t miss your season shift and the love that finds you there.”
32
IT HAD ONLY BEENa few days, but the office felt empty without Dedra’s presence. And since Kenya hadn’t returned to therapy since the wedding, her days felt even emptier without her consistent meetups with Solomon. But what could she do since Solomon was right? There had been no promises made. At least not verbally. He wasn’t to blame for the way her heart had meshed with his. And knowing that he’d had his important test coming up, she hadn’t wanted to disturb his preparation or insert herself in his celebration. That’s what family was for, and it was obvious that she would never be a part of that.
“I guess the fake dating is over,” she breathed as she closed out the windows on her computer. She’d spent all morning cleaning out her inbox and finishing up tasks that would have normally been Dedra’s to do. Then she started organizing her stuff into convenient piles, just in case she needed to load it into boxes like Dedra had.
A sound from the doorway made her look up.
“Hi, Evelyn.”
She was probably here to tell her to go ahead and pack up her office. She figured she would have her own cubicle to reoccupy soon. Just like she did a few years ago when she was only an event coordinator.
“Kenya, how are you?” Evelyn’s voice dripped with discomfort.
“I’m good, thank you. How can I help you?”
Evelyn sighed. “I don’t normally do this, but we’ve been contacted by someone who is looking for assistance planning a launch. From what I can tell, it’s a little outside of our offerings, on the small scale.”
“But you are considering it.”
“Yes, because she keeps asking for you specifically. She didn’t have your contact but met you recently.”
Kenya’s stomach roiled with dread. Could it be Solomon’s mom or sister for the vow renewal that she technically didn’t finish planning and didn’t plan on attending?
“Evelyn, I don’t know.”
“I honestly don’t either,” Evelyn admitted. “But the rest of our team is up to their ears with tasks, and since you are the queen of last-minute adjustments, go ahead and contact her to schedule a time to meet.”
Kenya’s thoughts flitted to her time on the mountain.God,get your gloryand help me to do my best.
“Okay, did she leave a name, a number?”
“She gave the name Althea Gibson and wants to meet with you this afternoon.”
Two hours later, Kenya slid into a booth at Alonzo’s Bakery and Bistro. She glanced around at the classic decor and cozy, welcoming atmosphere. Alonzo had come to her a few years ago asking for ideas on how to style his restaurant. She ran her hand over the table, the textures of his custom-made tops soothing and reminding her of the ripples on water.
