Something I never thought I’d be thinking. I never could have imagined I’d be so hung up on anyone, let alone a dude, but I’m totally fine with admitting he’s got me.
And I’ve got him.
Now I want to share this guy with my parents, who I have no doubt will be happy I’ve found someone who makes me as happy as he does.
My parents meet me halfway between Peachtree Springs and our hometown, at a restaurant where we’ve had brunch before. As soon as I spot Mom, she’s already on her feet, hurrying to me. She has a bounce in her step that takes me by surprise, and when she gets close, I catch the bronze tones in her usually fair complexion, how the highlights in her hair are a little lighter.
“Wow, someone got some sun in Europe,” I say as I draw her in for a hug.
“It was a great time to be in Lisbon. The beaches are absolutely incredible. Don’t worry, I have plenty of pictures to bore you with.”
“You won’t bore me,” I assure her.
As she pulls away, she wears a tooth-filled grin, and while I want her to be happy, I can’t help but know it’s because of the time she’s spent away from Dad.
“Come on. Sit down, champ,” Dad says as he tackles me for a hug. “Feels like it’s been forever. I’m fine with you walking away from the NFL, but I’m not fine with not seeing you for this long.”
He’s trying, I can tell, but I know he’s not fine. Hard to blame him either. When he releases me, I observe how he looks completely different from Mom. His eyes are red, like he’s on the verge of tears. He looks as tired as he used to get when we’d be out training through the day or when he’d have to wake up before dawn after a busy day at work to haul me across town for a game.
We settle at our table on the restaurant balcony, overlooking the lake. It’s a gorgeous view, and Mom practically glows in the afternoon light while Dad looks like the life has been sucked right out of him.
I’m trying not to think too much about it, but the way he keeps eyeing her, it’s like he knows the woman he fell in love with all those years ago is getting away from him. And how can I blame her when I don’t think I’ve ever seen her looking this happy since I was a kid.
I ask Mom about her trip, and she displays some photos in her phone for me. From London, she shares Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, and Big Ben. From Paris, the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, and the Louvre. Then sites from Vienna, Rome, Barcelona, Lisbon.
“Wow, you didn’t get any rest the past month, did you?”
“You have no idea,” she says with a laugh. “And this is a gorgeous beach that’s about forty miles north of Lisbon.” She shows me another photo.
It’s taken from farther away, and when I zoom in, I accidentallyswipe to the next image, where Mom stands with a man who’s got his arm hooked around her, his hand resting on her hip. The blood in my face drains, and my stomach churns.
“Sounds like it was a great time,” Dad says through his teeth. By the frustration in his tone, I can’t help wondering if he knows about whoever the hell is in these pictures with Mom.
“Sorry, I guess I swiped,” I tell her, and when she sees the picture, her grin softens. And then she looks to Dad in a way that suggests he knows about this. Of course. I’m the only one who doesn’t, just like I was the only one who didn’t know about the divorce.
“This is Enzo,” Mom says.
“Carrie,” Dad chimes in. “We agreed not to say anything.”
“Well, he’s seen now.”
It’s a simple exchange, but it reminds me of the way they would pick at each other the past few years. The sort of thing I imagine wore them both down.
“I would like to know what’s going on,” I say as the heat in my chest intensifies. “Or were you both gonna wait and tell me when you decided to have another kid?”
The light in Mom’s expression diminishes, and I hate that I did that to her, but I’m also pissed as hell since I’m always the last to know about these things.
“That’s not fair,” she says.
“None of this is fair,” I say through my teeth. “First there was that stuff going on for over a year, and now there are all these other secrets. How long have you even been seeing this guy…Enzo?”
“Can we talk about something else?” Dad asks.
“Iwantto discuss it.” My words are harsher than intended, but I can feel the resentment in me mounting.
“If he wants to know…” Mom says.
They start getting into it, back and forth, back and forth. HereI was hoping to enjoy brunch with my parents, tell them about my boyfriend and how amazing he is, and instead, this is what I get? And it reminds me of plenty of tense moments between them. The steady erosion of what was once love.
