Page 20 of False Start
Zina snorts. “Or hotter.”
“Well,” my mother says as she rubs the back of her neck, “they are quite handsome.”
“Cougar much?” I ask and help her load a plate with cookies before I go after Bryant to rescue him from my poor, confused grandmother.
In the family room, Bryant helps my grandma sit on the couch, and then he takes a seat beside her.
Grandma Rose leans over and whispers to the quarterback. “Phillip, do you think we’d be in trouble if we held hands?” And then she primps her hair and bats her lashes at him.
Bryant leans over and whispers back, “I think it would be okay if we held hands. But don’t you go and try to take advantage by putting the moves on me, Rose.”
Her hand flies to her chest and a gasp leaves her. “I wouldn’t dare. I’m not that kind of girl.”
They hold hands, and my heart does a weird flip flop thing in my chest. Tears prick my eyes as my sister saddles up beside me. “You’re fucked.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I don’t know many men in their young twenties that would sit with a strange woman and pretend to be her dead husband. I also don’t know many dudes who would drop whatever he had planned for the day to spend it with an aging woman who found love again, albeit faux love. And I sure as shit don’t know guys who would understand the situation within a few moments. So, yeah, I’m fucked. He slithered underneath my skin, and I don’t know if it’s possible to work it out of my system.
— 8 —
Then
BRYANT AND BEN LEAVE around five to make it to Bryant’s parent’s home outside of the city for dinner. And when Grandma Rose wakes shortly after, she has no recollection of Bryant being here. But I’ll never forget that he was here and what he did for her and us. The hardest part of loving a patient with dementia is the pain that comes from watching them deteriorate. They’re in and out of lucidity, and you never know what they’ll remember from one minute to the next. But the utter confusion it causes the patient is the most heartbreaking thing about it. There’s nothing the people around them can do but play along and hope they’ll remember soon.
As I lie down at midnight, my thoughts center on Bryant. I send him a text to see if he’s awake.
Zhanna: Hey you.
God. Why is this so hard?
Zhanna: I just wanted to thank you for everything you did for my family today. You were amazing.
Three little dots dance at the bottom of my screen indicating he’s typing. I really hope I didn’t wake him.
Bryant: Hey, gorgeous! You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help. The women in your family are all beautiful and kind.
Zhanna: Did I wake you?
Bryant: No, I was actually thinking about you.
His words make me want to leap from my bed, jump up and down, and shout in glee. But I manage to contain myself.
Bryant: What are you doing right now?
Zhanna: I was headed to bed.
Bryant: Want to go on a date?
Zhanna: When?
Bryant: Now, before you change your mind.
Zhanna: Now?!!
Bryant: I’d like to show you something. Are you up for a field trip?
Zhanna: Now?!!
Bryant: ??
