Chapter Nine
The next morning, Ella was at Sift and paying Pam for her chocolate croissant and a latte with three pumps of vanilla. Extra sugar and chocolate fixed things. It was science. She’d put in a few calls to book dealers and only had three more chapters on pain management to go. Ella planned on riding her bike that afternoon if the sun managed to burn off the clouds, so she let herself indulge.
Taking her seat, she had to admit if someone attempted to remove the chocolate croissant from her hand on a Friday morning, they were going to die. Probably a developing addiction, she thought, laughing to herself and taking out her textbook, but the best kind, she decided.
She’d just taken out the postcard reminder she’d received from the AMA, which now doubled as a bookmark, when she glanced up and saw Mason. He waved and lumbered over in that way young men did when they were still growing into their legs.
“Hey. Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Ella asked before taking a bite of pure butter and chocolate. She supposed it was bad form for a doctor to be eating this in front of a kid in the morning, but once her taste buds exploded with joy, she forgot to care.
“On our way. We need to pick up the cookies for my class.”
“Nice.” She wiped her mouth and wondered about the “we” in his statement. Boyd? A friend or girlfriend? Vienna mentioned Mason’s mother didn’t appear to be “in the picture,” but that was all she knew. The McNaughtons, all of them, came in from time to time and Vienna had made Mason’s birthday cake a few months ago when he turned thirteen. Red Velvet. Ella remembered because it was her favorite.
She wasn’t certain why she cared about the “we.” She wasn’t one to snoop and Boyd, whom she’d decided to start referring to as Mason’s dad since she was beginning to like the sound of his name, was unquestionably giving her the cold shoulder. That usually meant girlfriend, not that Ella’s commitment radar was reliable. Why was she doing this? Thinking about any of this? She had sugar and coffee. Her life was set.
Vienna came up behind the counter. “I’m packing up your box now. Give me a few minutes. Do you want something for breakfast too? On the house.”
“Sure. Hi, Vienna.”
“Hey, cutie. Glazed doughnut?”
“Yes, please.”
“Ella, did you pay for that?”
She nodded and took another bite. Vienna wiped her hands on a huff. It was a busy morning—good chance parties like Mason’s needed extra cookies. Ella had been coming in long enough to recognize her friend’s buzz and often took it as a chance to pay for something and even leave a tip in the jar by the register.
Ella could tell Mason wanted to wink, but he resisted as Vienna punched in something on the computer for Pam and then returned to the back.
One less future winker. My work is done here, Ella thought. That, of course, brought the best wink she’d ever witnessed to mind. Stupid wink.
“So, how are things?” she asked as Mason stood by her table and shifted his weight front to back.
His eyes traveled around the space in that way teenagers did when they felt the least bit vulnerable. “Do you mean with she? I haven’t had a chance to try the friend thing. We’re not friends on Snapchat.”
“That or baseball or school. General inquiry.”
“Oh, yeah. Baseball update: We still suck. I mean it’s fine, but I’m not good. I’m thinking about field hockey once I start high school.”
“My roommate in high school played field hockey all four years. She loved it.”
“You had your own place in high school?”
“Sorry. No, I went to boarding school.”
“Really? What’s that like?” He sank down into the seat next to her as if she’d become ten times more fascinating.
“Um, kind of lonely,” Ella said, telling the truth.
“Were you far away from home? Why did you go if you were lonely? Did you get in trouble or something?”
Ella hadn’t had a lot of exposure to children. Her sister had a daughter, but she was, well, Ella didn’t remember her niece ever being a child. Her name was Cressida. That seemed to come with a maturity right out of the womb. Other than her niece, most of the children Ella interacted with were sick or hurting. Mason was happy and so full of life.
“Yes, it was far away from my home. My parents live near Los Angeles in Brentwood. I went to high school back east in New Hampshire.”
“Why did you go?”
She was hoping he’d forgotten that question. Mainly because she didn’t know how to answer. What was the correct answer for a child his age? My parents are robots and should have never had children? Not ideal, so she went with Becca’s Disney version.
“It’s a tradition. My parents went, and so my sister and I went too.”
“Huh. I’m nervous enough about high school. I don’t think I’d want to sleep there too.”
Ella laughed. “Good point.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Harvard and then UCLA for medical school.”
“Oh, that’s right. You had to go to more school after college.” He rolled his eyes.
Ella rolled hers too. It was fun making fun of school for a change.
“All right, Mase. Sorry for the wait.” Vienna handed him a pink box tied with string and then a white bag like the one Ella picked up on the mornings she worked.
Glazed doughnut, that sounded good too. Maybe next week, she thought.
“So, your roommate liked field hockey?” he asked after thanking Vienna.
“She did. She used to say constant movement was a high. Is that why you don’t like baseball? All the waiting around?”
He nodded. “Never thought about it that way, but yeah. I get bored and then I mess up. I like basketball, but look at me.” He gestured up and down his body. “That’s not going to happen.”
Ella laughed.
“Mase, are you baking the stuff yourself? Let’s—” Boyd’s voice rumbled through the tinkling sound of the bell on the front door, but he stopped when he saw Mason standing by Ella. Wiping his boots on the mat by the door, he visibly took in a breath.
Ella was used to men looking at her, assessing who they thought she was or more often doubting her abilities based on her looks. She’d worked twice as hard in medical school and busted her ass once she graduated to prove she wasn’t some blond genetic lottery winner looking to land a doctor husband. Ironic she ended up with a doctor, and every stereotype was made worse by the way that turned out.
“Got it. I just got it. Vienna’s a little nuts back there. She needed more time to pack it up. We’ve got time,” Mason said.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Boyd. Crazy busy this morning. Can I get you coffee and a sticky bun on the house?” Vienna asked.
Boyd hesitated.
“Fresh out of the oven.”
He took off his baseball cap, morning hair all over the place. “Can’t say no to that, but I’ll pay for it. Thanks, Vienna.” He turned to Mason, expression softened no doubt at the thought of anything Vienna offered fresh out of the oven.
“Look who comes here too—Dr. Ella from the hospital. Remember?”
Boyd nodded. “That was yesterday, Mase. I’m not senile.”
“Not yet.”
“Look at you all clever. How about you walk to school?”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“I would and I’ll take your cookies.”
“That’s cruel. Hey, Ella slept at her high school. She went to boarding school.”
“Huh.”
Their eyes met and she was hit again by the distinct feeling he wanted to avoid her. She wasn’t a woman to take offense, but she was curious why he appeared to find her so distasteful. Maybe it was the whole doctor thing that threw him off. The boarding school tidbit certainly wasn’t going to create any common ground.
“Yeah, and her roommate played field hockey.”
“Interesting.” Boyd took the bag and coffee Vienna handed over the counter. He offered her money and when she refused, he stuck it in the jar by the register.
“We’re going to be late,” Boyd said, no longer bothering to make chitchat with Ella.
Mason glanced at the clock on the wall. “Crap.” He flinched. “I meant gee golly we better get going, sir.”
Boyd shook his head and Ella tried not to laugh. Funny and smart, inquisitive and obviously a smart ass. His dad took him under his arm.
“Say goodbye to the nice doctor, unruly kid.”
“Bye, Ella. I’ll keep you posted. Maybe Dad and I should get your num—”
Boyd dragged him out the door before he could finish his sentence.
She was still grinning as she finished the rest of her sugar breakfast, and then it hit her.
Had Boyd even said goodbye?
This was not happening, he told himself as Mason turned up the music and continued babbling on about Ella and her boarding school years. Boarding school? Who the hell still went to boarding school? Gorgeous blond doctors with a great sense of humor and an affection for nosey kids, that’s who. He knew he sounded ridiculous, but honestly, what the hell was a woman like her doing here?
“Ella went to Harvard. Did you know that?”
Boyd shook his head and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. That caused his hand to throb and then he thought of her again. Damn it, she was everywhere. He didn’t need this, didn’t want attraction anymore. He had work and his son. Women, other than his mom, Aspen, and occasionally Claire when the mood struck, did not factor into Boyd’s equation. He’d need to figure out why Mason was so hell-bent on hanging out with the doctor. Yeah, that sounded good. “The doctor.” That’s how he should think of her from now on. It rang formal and so much better than the woman all disheveled with powdered sugar on her cheek. He knew where to file “the doctor,” but Ella Walters was stirring up a whole mess of something he did not want to sort through.
“Yeah, she must be smart.”
“Must be,” Boyd said as he pulled into the school roundabout. “Okay, let’s get in there and learn.”
“It’s Friday. No one learns on Friday.”
Boyd moved to ruffle his son’s hair and thought better of it. Mason’s friends were waiting outside for him and the expression on his face said, “Don’t do it, Dad. I’m not five anymore.”
“Get out,” he said in a Terminator voice.
Mason threw his backpack over his shoulder. “See you at three?”
“I’ll be the one waiting outside my truck in a Speedo.”
“That is so wrong,” he said.
“Ya think? I don’t know. I’m thinking an American flag one. Maybe with my work boots.”
“How are you even allowed to be an adult?” Mason laughed, taking the cookies and sack lunch Boyd handed him once he hopped down out of the truck.
“I have no idea. They handed me a truck and a baby one day.”
“It’s a crazy world.”
“Yes, it is. Be kind,” Boyd said as Mason nodded to his friends and turned back one more time.
“Yup, I’ll try. Be strong,” he said, closing the truck door.
“I’ll do my best,” Boyd said through the window.
Their eyes held for an instant and then Mason was gone, joined by his friends and walking into school. Pulling away, Boyd allowed for the next car in line and swallowed back a lump in his throat. Two more months and his son would enter the summer before high school. Change was good, he told himself.
What do you want him to do, play with Legos forever? That’s not what he wanted. He wanted Mason to grow up and have all the adventures imaginable. He was thinking too far ahead. Two months was a long time. Right now, they had a weekend and they needed to start working on a science fair project or he’d be up all night like last year when he was gluing cotton balls to poster board until 2:00 a.m. Weekend and poster board: that was as far ahead as Boyd needed to look.
Be kind, be strong. They’d been saying goodbye to each other that way since practically his first day of kindergarten. God, he loved that kid something crazy. He wasn’t one of those dads to declare, “I have no idea where the time went.” Boyd liked to think he was present for every twist and turn of Mason’s life. He could remember most things, but lately little memories like the age he started walking or what his toddler voice sounded like were beginning to fade. Boyd supposed they had to if only to make room for the new memories, the details of who his son was becoming. There were times it seemed that to fully appreciate teenage Mason, he might need to say goodbye to toddler Mason. Like they couldn’t both exist together.
Boyd pulled a piece of sticky bun from the bag Vienna had given him and tried to manage his mind the way he managed the recipe he needed to start working on once he got to the brewery. Balance—every change created something new. Change could be good.
Shit, I’m talking to myself now.