Page 177 of Made Better Together

Helping matters is the fact that the group attending largely prefers chill hangout sessions instead of upscale parties, so they’re going with the flow.

Except Mom, of course. I drift off toward where she’s talking to Pam, who’s once again earning her GOAT status by occupying her.

“Connor,” Mom says in a loud whisper that Pam absolutely can hear. “Why aren’t there servers to bring around drinks and food?”

I look quickly at Pam, whose expression is hard to read, before responding. “It’s not that kind of party, Mom. It’s informal.”

“Humph.” She looks unsatisfied with that answer.

“The food is delicious,” Pam says, in a placating tone.

“I do like the seasoning on the shrimp,” Mom observes. “They did a nice job with that.”

“So, Connor,” Pam turns to me. “How’s it going with the Waves? Johnson said you’re doing great in the practices.”

“Alright, I think. Making more kicks than I miss.” I add a wink.

She laughs. “I’m sure many more.” She reaches out and pats my shoulder. “You should be proud.”

Mom is silent for a moment as she watches Pam’s reassuring gesture, before finding her voice.

“Football is not a long-term plan, though. You’re just a backup. What are you going to do as a career?”

If I hadn’t screwed up things with Milo, I could defend myself by telling her about my permanent job offer at SLP. Instead, I stay silent.

“He could try to make the NFL a long-term option, right? For a few years at least?” Pam asks.

“He better not,” Mom spits out. “What a waste of his intelligence.”

“Mom,” I interject to stop her from saying more, as Pam’s face falls.

“You’re too gifted to simply play football. To be a kicker.” She says the last word like it’s poison.

It is toxic.

“Stop, Mom. Not the time or place.” The room is literally filled with NFL players she’s insulting.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to speak my mind. Not that any of you listen to me anyway.”

Fuck. She’s being as awful as she’s ever been in public. “It’s not that.”

“It’s astonishing how ungrateful you are. All of you. I give my advice because I know better how the real world works.”

“Mom, that’s enough.” I try to keep my voice low, but now I’m getting irritated.

“It’s just too bad that I seem to be the only one in this family with standards.”

I’m dying to make her shut up. Pam looks anxious to do the same. She doesn’t stop, though.

“Your sister, not going to law school after I did everything I could to make it easy for her. You, wasting the brilliant mind you inherited from me.”

Pam’s face shifts, now frozen in a conciliatory expression. “Connor will be successful in whatever he tries…”

Mom ignores her, her eyes narrowing on me, voice sharpening further. “Football should be off the table. Just because your brothers⁠—”

“STOP!” I yell before bringing my volume down to a moderate level, though my voice is no less furious. “I’m not seventeen anymore. You can’t say garbage like that to me. I’m an adult.”

My anger, born of logic. My rage, cool and calm. This isn’t the trauma talking. It’s just a son fed the fuck up.