“Hey, Mom,” I say when she picks up.
“Boone!” My mom’s voice is bright and warm, the way it always is when she answers my calls.
“How are you?”
“Good, good. How’s married life treating you?”
I shake my head, smiling even though she can’t see me. Despite strict instructions to keep the truth of my “marriage” within the legal and PR bubble, I told my mom the truth and swore her to secrecy.
Breaking a few rules is part of who I am, but keeping secrets from my mom? Never.
Besides, I couldn’t pretend to marry a woman without her blessing. And the more time that I spend around Rosie, I realize that if I ever married a woman for real, it’d be one like her.
That thought has my brain stuttering for a second before I respond.
“Good,” I reply. “Rosie’s good.”
I hear her smile through the phone. “That’s wonderful. When are you bringing her home to Alberta so I can meet her?”
“Don’t know about that one, Mama.”
She laughs, a warm, teasing sound. “But you’re considering it? I had a feeling you might.”
She knows me well enough to know that I’ve already imagined what it’d be like to have Rosie see where I grew up. To show her the places where I learned how to skate and play hockey.
“She’s… surprised me.”
“And I bet your feelings for her have surprised you too?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“And do you think that she’s surprised by the man you are?”
“I… I hope so.”
There’s a pause, just long enough for her next words to hit deep. “I’m proud of you.”
Those five words always undo me. No matter how old I get, or how many accolades and trophies I collect, hearing my mom say she’s proud of me feels like a balm on the parts of me that are still chasing attention and approval.
It’s why I’ve loved having her in the crowd in the past, and why I’ve been on fire in every game Rosie’s attended court side.
She brings out something in me, something that makes me feel like I'm performing for family. Reigniting my love for the sport and wanting to keep her attention and earn her pride.
I clear my throat, pushing past the sudden tightness there. “Love you a lot, Mom. I’ll get home soon. Only a few more weeks until the tournament finishes, then we’re in the off-season. I’m planning to spend most of it in Canada.”
“Can’t wait,” she says.
We say our goodbyes, and I pocket my phone, intending to head straight back to the apartment to unpack. But something stops me in my tracks.
It’s a jewelry store that I’ve walked past a hundred times without a second glance until today. The window display has expensive,red and pink colored glass hearts hanging from the ceiling and the phraseTrue Love Doesn’t Wait!printed in script like an omen.
I stand there for a moment, the snow swirling around me, debating what to do. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. It’s all for show, right? None of it is real to her even if I want it to be.
But if Rosie’s stuck wearing a ring she hates for two more months, she might as well have one that she actually likes. Something that feels likeher.Something from her husband.
Before I can second-guess my decision, I step inside the warm store. I’m greeted immediately and it only takes ten minutes to find it—the one that screams Rosie.
It’s simple, elegant, and a light pink diamond with white diamonds surrounding it. It isn’t the gaudy, classic, basic cut that her father had chosen, but it’s priceless and worthy to be worn by her.
