I’ve already told Mom how we met and begged her not to make it weird when Val arrives. Mom remembers Jackie and all too well how our story ended. She’s also curious as to what Val thinks about it. Jackie isnotsomeone my mom remembers with fondness.
“Well, you mentioned you two are friends, but is there more toit? Seems weird for her to come over for dinner to meet your mother ifnothingmore is happening between you guys.”
I raise my brows. “Mom, I’ve had countless friends over to our house for dinner throughout the years. What makes this any different?”
“She’s a girl.”
“Uh...” Mom’s not wrong, but she’s alsosowrong. How can I tell her that Val’s been a light in a very dark place ... figuratively and literally speaking? Through all the conversations we’ve had, nothing has said attraction. I’m okay with that. I don’t need a girlfriend; I need a friend. I need someone who’s going to take the time to understand me without showing me pity. Val does that perfectly.
As much as I appreciate Javier and Raimo dropping by—they don’t want me to be lonely, and they’re afraid of what’ll happen now that I don’t have hockey—I don’t get the vibe they actually want to hear how I feel about the whole process. My coping worries are left for Val and Val alone. I don’t even plan on telling Mom how miserable I get.
“Mom, please just treat her like my friend and nothing else.”
She huffs, but after a pause, speaks. “Fine. I’ll be friendly to your friend.”
“Thanks.” I smile to let her know how much it means to me.
And I hate that I can’t tell if she’s smiling back. Because even if I place her in my peripheral vision, it still takes a lot of work to note those kinds of details. I can see the outline of her perfectly, can somewhat see the color of her clothes. That’s it.
The doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it,” Mom cries.
Good, because I don’t feel like navigating to the front of the house. Though the muscles along the side of my neck are getting stronger from all the angling I’ve been doing to put people in my periphery, it’s not how I want to walk down the hall.
Val’s voice gets closer, so I stand. I may not see her enter the living room, but I can be expectant.
“Jabari, you didn’t tell me Val is so pretty,” Mom says. She sounds shocked.
I’m tempted to remind her I’ve never been able to tell those details, but Val speaks before I can.
“He doesn’t know what I look like now,” Val states simply.
“Oh.” Mom’s voice falters. “That’s right.”
A movement shifts at my right, and Val slides an arm around my back, squeezing my sides. “Hey,” she says loudly, then drops her voice. “How’s it going?”
I hug her back. “You arrived in the nick of time.”
Her soft chuckle pulls an answering grin to my lips.
“Did you come hungry?” I ask.
“You said to bring my appetite.” She shifts away, dropping her arm.
Why does cold linger where her arm used to be?
“Dinner’s all ready, Val. Do you want to sit at the table and talk? We can get to know each other better,” Mom says.
“That sounds wonderful, Ms. Hall.”
“Oh, no, dear. Please call me Paula.”
“Thanks, Paula.”
I follow their voices to the dining room. Chair legs scrape across the floor, and I turn my head in time to see a figure sit on the left side. Fortunately, the end chair remains empty. My breath slows as I accurately connect to the back rung and pull it out to sit in.
“Is Val short for Valerie?” Mom asks.
