Afraid?
Does she need his approval?
Is that why she’s dragging her feet?
Fears she won’t get it?
And what happens if she doesn’t?
Is she really willing to giveusup just like that?
If the time comes and she has to choose in a moment, is she gonna choose him?
Theirrelationship over ours?
His comfort over her own happiness?
Mari sympathetically nodding precedes her surrender, “Soon, soon. Maybe nottomorrowsoon but still soon. Like before Halloween soon. I don’t like the idea of having to keep shit from him.”
Gillian flashes her a soft grin of gratitude. “I appreciate it.”
“Appreciate it bytelling him.” She shakes her head in defeat and finally hands over the object she had been flailing around. “I texted you that I was stopping by with these on my way to grab the girls from tumbling practice.” The white envelope slips into her possession. “They’re the kidsschool photos with their names handwritten on the back – as requested.”
Excited squeals instantly leave her. “I can’t wait to put these up in my office!”
And I can’t wait until Bronny and I are allowed to have our pics in there as well.
Sadly, I get the sense we’re gonna end up waiting much longer than she’s letting on.
Chapter 17
Gillian
Words I don’t hear enough of on October thirty first?
Happy. Birthday.
I actually hear the words “we’ll brush extra” more than I do the latter.
Even my friends push it to the back molar until their pre-trick-or-treating meal.
That’s when I’ll typically get a text.
Rarely a phone call.
It’s also when the “let’s do something post birthday” discussions begin.
I just accept it.
Their kidsshouldbe a priority.
For most of them, Halloween only comes second to Christmas, which has always been familiar territory to me.
Growing up, I never had a partyonmy actual birthday for obvious reasons, and parties post were usually rare because M had hockey games or tournaments and that’s where we had to be. By the time college rolled around, I didn’t even see the point in mentioning it, and now that I think about it, most people never wondered when I was born or why I don’t celebrate.
And I don’t really celebrate.
My birthday typically consists of a very long, slow day at the office – most players are busy doing things with their families – a lunch convo with my parents – usually by video chat – an easy drive through meal – trying to get anything delivered is a nightmare – and watching hockey on the couch wherever my brother is playing – orcoachingnowadays.
