Page 84 of Her Coach

“If it doesn’t, will you tell me what happened?”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Sure, yeah. So, what’s on your mind that you’re not telling me?”

“Just cut your mom a little bit of slack, okay?” Dani asked. “She went through a horrible thing, losing your father like she did. I mean, yeah, you lost your father, but she lost her best friend. Her soulmate. Her life partner. How would you feel if someone called you right now and told you this coach guy died in a car accident somewhere? How would that make you feel?”

Just the idea made my heart clench. “Not good.”

“Now, add years of marriage and a child onto that, and that’s what your mother went through.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. But she doesn’t know what you’re going through, either. It’s two people, experiencing very different perspectives of the same circumstance.”

She made a lot of sense, but I still didn’t see how it pertained to Colton. And she must’ve read my mind, because before I could question her, Dani continued.

“But your mother sees you dating an older man right now. You’re still young and vibrant, but he is chasing middle-aged. And with your mom and the way her brain works? I’m sure she’s already calculating the years you’ve got with him before he dies, and you’re in the same position as her.”

Her revelation stole the wind from my lungs. How was it that Dani could drop the heaviest of balls right into someone’s world without even fucking blinking?

I turned it over for a second. Dani wasn’t wrong, she never was, not about the things that mattered. But even as the theory settled in, I felt the edges of it not quite fitting. It wasn’t the only thing. Mom had worked in professional hockey her entire adult life. She knew the league. She knew what it looked like when a man was passing through a city rather than planting himself in it, and she’d said as much to me before my date — plainly, without flinching — in a way that had nothing to do with mortality math and everything to do with experience. She was scared of losing me to him in a different way than Dani was describing. Both things were true, probably. That was the thing about Mom — she never just feared one thing at a time.

“You’re a goddamn genius, you know that?” I asked as I slipped out of bed.

“I do my best,” she said with pride.

That’s when I heard Mom’s car pull up into the driveway. I rushed to the window and peeled back the curtain. And when I saw her struggling to get all of the groceries out of the trunk of the car all at once, my words turned quick.

“Talk Sunday?” I asked.

“Four o’clock on the dot. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” I said as I went to hang up the phone.

“And Bry?”

I placed the phone back to my ear after taking her off speaker. “Yeah?”

“Just because she’s scared doesn’t mean you have to be. I’m serious when I tell you that you sound happier. Don’t let your mother take that from you.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “Talk Sunday.”

“Talk Sunday.”

I hung up the phone and rushed out of my bedroom to help Mom with the groceries.

By the time I caught up to her, she had already hefted things through the front door. I skipped over to her side and slid some bags off her left arm, which already looked pinched from the way the plastic sat against her skin. She nodded her thanks, but didn’t quite look me in the eye, and I hated that. I hated the silence. I hated how we both shut down and became functioning mutes whenever we had shit on our mind.

I cleared my throat as I put up the pantry items. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She slipped behind me to grab the milk. “Are you happy?”

The question caught me off-guard. I expected my apology to prompt a discussion. Maybe one where Mom’s voice was a bit more curt than usual. You know how moms can be sometimes. But instead, she hit me with a question that I didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Yes,” I said as I turned to face her. I mindlessly reached for the chips to put in the pantry. “He’s an absolute gentleman, and a joy to be around. I love just sitting and talking with him.”

“Love?” she asked as she turned toward me.

The refrigerator door eased itself closed behind her as I shrugged. “I could see it going that way.”