I ignored her because I knew the conversation wasn’t going to go how either of us wanted it to go. I was never going to let up about being the one to care for her, and she was never going to let up about me needing to act more my age.
“Did they call in the prescriptions?” I asked, shifting the topic back to the things that mattered in that moment.
“They did. They should be ready soon.”
I nodded as I buckled my seat belt and put the key in the ignition. We drove to the pharmacy, and I tried to convince Mom to stay in the car, but she knew she’d have to deal with the insurance issues. Therefore, she came inside with me.
I stood back a little as she spoke to the person checking her out. My stomach was in knots as I listened to their exchange.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Your insurance doesn’t cover the costs. It seems you’ve reached your maximum, so it will be one hundred and fifty today,” the cashier said with a lowered voice. It wasn’t lowered enough for me to miss the words, though, maybe because I was listening a little too closely.
Mom sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t afford that until next week when I get paid, but I need them now.” She studied the prescriptions in front of her. “Which ones can I get by without having at this time?” she asked.
Before they could reply to her, I stepped forward and pulled out the old tattered wallet I’d gotten at a thrift shop. I pulled out the money I’d made from my part-time job and laid it on the counter.
Mom turned to me with widened eyes. “Connor, no.”
“It’s fine, Mom. I got you.”
“No, no. I can move things around in my account and—”
“Mom.” I gave her a comforting smile, and the anxiety that sat on her shoulders deflated.
“I’ll pay you back next week,” she promised, moving the money over to the cashier.
She meant it, too.
I’d take the money so she didn’t feel lesser than, but any money she gave me would somehow be routed back to her, even if it meant me picking up groceries or taking her on a movie date or whatever.
The money she paid me back with always ended up back with her.
We went home that night, and I stayed on the sofa with her, watching movies. My mind was running in circles the whole time, trying to figure out how I could fit another part-time job into my schedule to help some more.
25
Connor
Present day
After I returned home, I made sure Aaliyah was okay, then I buried myself in my work. Even as I worked on emailing people back and collecting more details from Damian on the property he’d found in Queens, I couldn’t stop replaying the situation that’d taken place with Aaliyah. Seeing the way she had panicked once she saw Jason’s text message, I knew it must’ve stirred up some intense emotions. She’d been pretty quiet since she arrived at my place, keeping to herself in the guest room.
After a few hours of working, there was a knock on my office door, which was already wide open. I looked up to see Aaliyah with a glass of water in her hand. Her lips were smiling, but her eyes refused to do the same.
“You’re still up,” she stated, leaning against the door, probably to keep from tumbling over from exhaustion.
“You’re still up, too,” I said, turning away from my computer.
She smiled, and I felt the broken cracks that were trying to break through that grin. “Are you a workaholic, Mr. Roe?”
“It depends on how fast my mind is spinning each day.” That evening, after spending time in the hospital, my mind had been spinning extra fast.
She walked into my space and sat down on the floor. She then patted the floor beside her.
An invitation I didn’t think I could pass up.
I lifted my glass of whiskey and walked over to her, taking a seat on the floor. She sipped at her water and gave me that smile that looked so good on her.
“You really shouldn’t work past a certain hour,” she told me. “Your mind needs breaks.”
“Sometimes, the only way my mind gets a break is if I’m working.”
“Fair enough.” She glanced around my office with awe in her eyes. “I think my boss would fire me if she found out I was sleeping over at my client’s house again.”
“To be fair, I wasn’t your client when you first stayed over. Plus, I’m really good with secrets.”
“Is that so?”
“The best, actually. I have a special location in my brain where I keep people’s deepest, darkest secrets caged away.”
“Well, it’s very nice of you to be such a trustworthy source of secrecy.”
“I take it to heart when someone tells me a secret. So, don’t you worry. Your boss will never know about your night spent with me.”
“Thank you. So, why does your mind do that?”
“What?”
“You said your workload depends on how fast your mind is spinning. What makes your mind spin so fast?”
I smirked. “Is this off the record?”
“Scout’s honor.” She saluted.
“Were you a scout as a kid?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “What? No, I’m a journalist.”
“Then you can’t say Scout’s honor. It doesn’t mean anything if you aren’t a scout.”
“Potato, po-tah-to.” She waved me off in a dismissive fashion. “No matter what, I’m not going to tell anyone what we talk about tonight. Your secrets are safely locked in the secret chamber of my brain, too.”
I thumbed the rim of my glass. “I overthink everything. I sometimes think I live in the future more than I live in the now. In order for me to slow the speed of my mind, I focus on what’s in front of me. That normally includes working.”
“Why are you so afraid of the future?”
I chuckled. “Who said I was afraid?”
“Your eyes when you talk.”
“I’m having some déjà vu of when we first met, and you read
