We’re not supposed to be fighting over me being capable of deciding for myself who I want to date and working with my partner to mitigate the potential consequences for the team.
“I’m thirty. Why don’t they trust me to decide for myself who I should and shouldn’t date? Why don’t they trusthimto not let it interfere with the team? Players date all the time. How is this any different? He was already the team captain. He was already proving himself. I’m not dating him because he’s a rugby player. I’m dating him because he’s a good man who makes me feel safe and loved at a time when everything else in my life is falling apart.”
“I think it’s complete bullshit that they’re mad at you,” Goldie says. “It’s not like you’re dating Silas.”
The three older ladies murmur their agreement.
Tater Tot bubbles around in my belly like they, too, have an opinion.
I freaking love feeling my baby move.
It’s magic.
And all of the people in my life that I previously thought I’d call and squeal with about feeling my baby move aren’t in the circle of trust right now.
Abby Nora never will be again.
My mom could be, but— “I feel like a teenage brat throwing a tantrum over a boy.”
“You arenota teenage brat,” Sheila says. “You’re an intelligent, independent, worldly woman who knows what she wants. I knew my Sinclair was the love of my life five days after I met him when I was twenty-one, and we had twenty-eight beautiful years together. The people who are there for you when life is hardest are the ones who’ll be your favorites when life is easy.”
“Exactly right,” Odette says.
“And god knows that man’s had a tough go of it too,” Evelyn says. “I’m sure he’s grateful for you every bit as much as you’re grateful for him.”
I swipe my eyes. I didn’t used to cry this much.
“We take care of each other.”
My mom wants to buy me a house, and Holt buys me potatoes.
Dad wants to give me a job, and Holt opened his house and heart to me and gave me a home and a dog.
My parents want what’s best, but they don’t ask me how I define what’s best.
Goldie’s phone audibly dings while mine vibrates inside the wristlet on my lap.
We look at each other, then both go digging.
She gets hers out first. “Oh,fuck.”
“Fletcher’s been a good influence on her,” Sheila whispers.
“It’s nice that she doesn’t censor herself anymore,” Odette agrees.
And then I have my phone in hand, opening it, to look at the text from Miranda.
Miranda:Dad just put out a call for candidates to be the new Pounders captain.
I make a noise. Possibly a squeak. Possibly a howl. I’m not sure which.
And then I’m moving.
“Ziggy. Wait. I’ll drive.” Goldie’s on my heels as I rise from the booth and head toward the door.
“We’ll get the check,” Evelyn calls.
“Text us the goss,” Sheila adds.
