Page 7 of Love at a 7-Eleven

I made a conscious effort to forget about it enough to go on with my day. Eventually, I would look to the future and try a different approach, but for now, the best I could do was pretend that everything had gone according to plan as I made my way out. I gathered myself and took a minute to let my nerves settle before putting on a smile and leaving the restroom.

I was relieved that the hallway was empty.

The coaches' lounge door was open on my right, and I glanced inside as I passed. Someone was sitting at one of the tables, but I only noticed their form in my periphery and then I kept walking. I vaguely had the thought that it was the chaplain Bonnie was talking about. I knew what a chaplain was—it was the preacher for the team. I had met the Bears' guy before, Wayne. He was an older man—a priest. I let my mind wander, thinking about God and my own direction in life in those few seconds before I rounded the corner and could see Bonnie's desk.

"Hey, Lila, have you finished already?" she asked, smiling sweetly at me when she noticed me approaching.

"Yes, we, I just wanted to leave him my card today. I might talk to him about planning something next season. Hey, I'll take you up on that headache medicine, if you don't mind."

"Not at all," she said, her face looking concerned. She dug in her desk drawer until she came up with a white packet. "This is Tylenol. I have my own personal Excedrin in my purse. That has caffeine in it. They have all sorts of other options in the back, though."

"I'll take the one from your purse with caffeine if you don't mind."

"Not at all," she said, smiling and looking happy that she could help. "They're just loose, so I'm going to put two of them on a napkin for you. You can take them with you and get something to drink. There are all kinds of beverages in that lounge. You know how to help yourself." As she was talking, she wrapped the tablets in a tissue and then she handed it to me with a smile.

"I'll head to the lounge and grab some juice," I said.

"Help yourself. Go right ahead, sweetheart."

I turned and began making my way down the hallway again. This time, I went straight into the lounge.

Chapter 3

I walked at a good clip in the hallway, and the man at the table turned to face me the instant I rushed into the lounge. He glanced up at me, and our eyes locked as I stopped walking.

It was him.

The guy from 7-Eleven.

Malu Kai.

He was the person sitting at a table in the Chicago Bears coaches' lounge.

I was confused, and his face broke into a smile. "Whoa, wow. It's you. Lila, right?" He stood.

He was such a presence in the room that I forgot to breathe. I took a step to the side and stood up straight. I stuck out my hand to shake his.

He smiled as he took my hand in his, and I could have just melted.

"You said you had a big meeting. Is this the place? Do you work here?"

"Oh, no, I… I did have a little short meeting thing just now with one of the… I'm finished with it, though. It was fine and good and everything went great, good and everything. I was just going to take… I was getting juice."

Even as I finished my sentence, I knew I was in the middle of babbling again. There I was getting a second chance at meeting him, and I couldn't form sentences again. I was normally a confident person, but this guy was so cool that I felt uncool by comparison.

I broke eye contact with him after I spoke. I shook my head and gave him a self-deprecating grin as I turned away and headed toward the refrigerator without another word.Juice? I had ended with juice?There was a coffee station near the refrigerator, and I thought about making myself a cup.

I still had the headache medicine wrapped in a tissue in one hand. I knew a cold drink would be the most convenient thing to grab, so I went to the fridge. I needed to relax, and I stood in front of the open fridge pretending that I was concentrating on my choice.

"I should have figured out you had on Bears colors at the gas station. I like it."

"Oh, yeah, thank you." I turned to him with a little smile before facing the other way again. "Are you a chaplain?"

"Yes. I'm not the Bears' chaplain, but I'm a chaplain—I'm here in that capacity. I’m also a friend of one of the players, and I'm here with his family while he's readjusting to life back in Chicago."

I was happy he told me so much because it gave me time to catch my breath and gather my wits. I was now invested in what he was saying instead of being so concerned about the impression I was making.

"Are you friends with Marcus?" I asked.

---