Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Reagon

“Can I please go out and play with my friends?” Jacoby asks.

I feel like a horrible mother telling him no, but the doctor insisted no physical activity for two weeks. Even if I allowed him to go outside, he’d still be tempted to run or he could trip and fall and it’s just too risky. A concussion isn’t something to take lightly.

I know he’s bored watching me pack up my classroom, but I really don’t have any other choice. No, he’s not going to his father’s and no he’s not staying at home all by himself. Maybe in a few more years, but that’s not even something worth considering right now.

He grabs a book from one of the boxes then flips it open to the first page. The fact that he takes after me and enjoys reading warms my heart.

“I’ve already read this one,” he says after a few minutes and slides the palm of his hand underneath his jaw.

“Oh, really?” The smile leaves my face. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Mom,” Jacoby sighs. “I’m really bored. Can we come back later?”

I’d really wanted to get this all squared away today, but I do have until Friday. “Alright, you win. Let’s get out of here.” I carry the few boxes I managed to pack out to my car then leave a note on the door that I’ll return later for the rest of it. I know the cleaning crew is eager to get things done on their end, but Jacoby comes first.

“How about a pizza?” I ask before pulling out of the school parking lot.

Jacoby thinks about it for a moment then nods. “Can we get extra pepperoni?”

“You bet’cha.” For two solid days I hardly slept, checking on him every hour on the hour. The doctors had said the first forty-eight hours were the most crucial, but even then he still needed to be monitored on a regular basis. So, I’d set the alarm on my phone, and continuously checked on him day and night. Four days later, I’m still monitoring him like a hawk, but I’m feeling a little more at ease.

The pizza smells delicious and the aroma quickly permeates the inside of my car. “Hold this,” I tell him while I pull some money from my purse to pay for it. I feel like I’m scraping the bottom of the piggybank as I count out the exact amount to the clerk.

“Drive faster, mom. I’m ready to dig in.”

I’m glad to see Jacoby finally has his appetite back. The first two days we were home, I could hardly get him to drink much less eat anything. He’s slowly coming around, though, and I thank God his injuries weren’t anymore serious. We’re not out of the clear yet, but things aren’t quite as scary as they were Saturday afternoon.

“If you’ll get the plates and glasses ready for us, I’ll get the boxes unloaded. Sound like a deal?” I announce as soon as I turn onto our street.

“I don’t know, mom. I’m this close to opening the box and eating a piece right now.”

I know he’s only joking, but the thought doesn’t sound half bad. The bowl of cereal I had for breakfast was gone before we even left the house. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Hey, mom. There’s someone parked in our driveway.”

I let off the gas as soon as I see the shiny black sports car. Over the years, I’ve taught my students to be aware of their surroundings and I’ve tried to abide by those same teachings. I’m not expecting anyone, and even though it’s the middle of the day, unsuspecting things happen in broad daylight all the time.

“We’re going to drive around the block and see if whoever it is leaves.”

“I think you’re being paranoid,” Jacoby says, his face inches away from the glass as I drive past our home.

“Why are you staring, Jacoby?”

“Because that car is sweet. Whoever’s driving it must be rich.”

I chuckle at his response. Kids will say the darnedest things.

“Well, it doesn’t look like they’re leaving anytime soon.” I pull up to the stop sign and glance down at my driveway. “We may as well find out who it is, but I want you to stay in the car.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jacoby shake his head. I’ve already failed at protecting him once this week, and I don’t need to put him in harm’s way again.

As soon as I pull into the driveway, the person sitting in the driver’s seat pushes the door open. I suck in a deep breath, uncertain if I’m ready to find out who it is. Maybe I am being a little ridiculous about this whole situation.

“Wow!” I hear Jacoby exclaim. “It’s even sweeter up close.”

With my gaze focused on the person climbing out, I almost feel light-headed when I see who it is. Or who I “think” it is. No, there’s no way. It can’t be.

The same smile on his face Saturday appears as soon as I open my car door. But why? Why would he be here?

“Hold on, is that Dawson McDuffy?” I hear Jacoby exclaim. “How does he know where we live?”

“I don’t know but stay put.”

Jacoby folds his arms across his chest and quickly pokes out his bottom lip. He can get upset with me all he wants, but baseball players don’t just randomly show up at someone’s house. Not without being invited.