“Stell,” I groan. Is she serious? This isn’t like her.
And then Rebecca is back. “FaceTime, Stella Grace.Now.”
“Mom—”
“Rightnow,” Rebecca says, her tone uptight.
“Okay,” I hear Scott say. “I’m here. What’s this about?”
“Stella says she’s seeing someone. And he called meMrs. E.”
“Mrs. E?” Scott says.
I tap Stella’s phone, clicking us over to FaceTime.
“Hey,” she spats, her free hand gripping my shirt once more. But Rebecca’s face is already on the screen.
I stand just out of view, waiting until my fiancée is ready to introduce me to the Everlys again. Stella releases my shirt front and peers—with fear in her eyes—at her mother.
“Where are you?” Rebecca says to her daughter. “And who’s with you?”
“Mom. Dad. I’ve met someone?—”
I nudge her knee with my palm, but stay away from the camera. The woman is stalling.
“Not met met. But re-met.”
“What does that mean?” Scott says.
Stella goes on as if her father never asked a question. “And it’s serious. In fact, we’re getting married.” She gasps just slightly. “Actually, wealreadygot married.”
“Married!” Rebecca squawks, and for a second, I’m afraid we’re sending her into some kind of episode. “Stella Grace, put that man on the phone. Now.”
I peek into view, not waiting for Stella’s approval. “Hey, Mrs. E,” I say, waving into the camera.
Rebecca gasps. “Roman Graves!” Her face lights, surprised, but not unhappy. Brice’s mother—with her hair a little more gray than blonde, but mostly just as I remember her—is beaming at me.
“Is that Roman?” Scott says, edging his way into view, and he’s grinning too. Yep—always loved, always welcoming. That’s what I got from Brice’s family.
I don’t understand why Stella wouldn’t share her problems with her parents, but then a lot of time has passed since I last knew her.
“Sweet boy.” One of Rebecca’s hands flutters up by her face. “We haven’t seen you in far too long. We thought you’d come back to visit, but?—”
“Yeah.” I swallow, shame filling my insides. “I’m sorry about that. Life got … busy.” It’s a horrible excuse. It’s not that life got busy. It’s that I decided soccer was all I wanted in life. I gave everything else up after Brice died. It felt so much safer.
“Well, sure it’s busy,” Scott says. “The boy is a pro athlete.”
“I know that,” Rebecca says to her husband. “You don’t have to tell me that.”
I smile, a closed-lipped grin. This minor league team is not what I set out to do, but then Brice died, and I didn’t care about doing more or getting anything bigger. I wanted to play the game and live a quiet life. A major league team wouldn’t be quiet.
“Pro,” Rebecca repeats with so much pride and giddiness.
It makes me wonder what my own mother would say or think. But then, I haven’t talked to her either. Even if I had, the fact that she hasn’t bothered to contact me tells me she wouldn’t care.
“And you and our Stella?” Rebecca croons. “You found each other.”
“I always wondered,” Scott says.
