Why the hell is he telling me all of this?
“Lots of people get it. Anyone with kids gets it. Being a parent is the hardest thing in the world.” He claps a hand on my shoulder and finally turns to looks at me. “But the world is full of single parents, and we all have jobs to do, apart from being parents. And my job is to get this team another state championship and keep producing players who go on to play D-One. And your job is to be part of the team and do what’s expected of you, what’s expected of everyone here. And if you can’t do that, I understand…but then you’re off the team. I can’t hold you to a different set of rules than everyone else.”
My heart stops dead in my chest. I shake my head fiercely, trying to find the magic words that will turn this conversation back around. “I know. You’re absolutely right. I know I’ve been undependable, but I’ve finally got it figured out. I swear. Give me one more chance, Coach, please. I won’t let you down again. Please.” I know I’m begging, but I don’t give a shit. I’ll get down on my hands and knees and kiss his sneakers if it would make him change his mind. I can’t get kicked off the team.
Coach considers me a minute, arms crossed, chewing on a huge wad of gum.
“Please,” I say again.
Finally his shoulders relax a little. “One more chance. If you are even one minute late to a practice or game from here on out, that’s it.”
I nod like crazy. “Yes, of course. I understand.”
“And you’re still benched Friday.”
“Got it.”
“All right, go join the rest of the team.”
I resist the overwhelming urge to hug him and jog out onto the field.
Chapter 19
Mom’s sitting on the front stoop with a glass of white wine when I stop by to drop off Hope before work. “Everything go okay getting Hope from day care?”
“Actually, no. They wouldn’t let Alan pick her up because he wasn’t on some list, so I had to get her. I was late to practice.”
Mom nods. “Those places have to be really careful about who they release the kids to.”
“I called you.”
“You did? I’m sorry, bud—I had my ringer off.”
“I called the house phone too. Where were you?”
“I was out.”
I narrow my eyes at her. Something’s off. “Where’d you go?”
“I had a date.”
“A date?”
“I’m allowed to date, you know,” she says.
“Yeah, but on a Monday afternoon? That’s just weird.”
She shrugs. “You’re not the only one whose schedule has been crazy since Hope was born. We’ve all been struggling to find time for stuff, Ryden.” She says it softly, not bitter at all.
I scoot closer to her and rest my head on her shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry, Mom. You know I love you, right? And that I appreciate everything you’ve done for us?”
She smoothes my hair. “I know, buddy.”
“So you wanna tell me about the guy?”
“No, I’m not really sure what it is yet. But I like him.”
“Well, as long as he’s good to you, I like him too.” I stand up. “Gotta go to work.”
“Have fun.”
? ? ?
I search the whole store but don’t see Joni anywhere. Maybe she’s off? She usually works Mondays, but maybe she switched with someone.
It’s not until I take my fifteen that I discover she actually is here. She’s in the break room, curled up on the little couch, red-eyed and crying, a box of Whole Foods brand recycled tissues tucked in the crook of her arm.
Before I allow myself time to think about what I’m doing, I’m by her side and pulling her close to me. She starts crying harder, burying her face into my shirt. I just hold her tight and let her get it out. I have absolutely zero idea what I’m supposed to say. Joni’s always so happy. Strong. What could have made her like this?
People come in to the break room, take one look our way, and turn right back around. So apart from a few brief entrances and exits, we’re alone.
Eventually she pulls away. She’s not crying anymore, but her face is all splotchy, and her eyelashes are clumped together with moisture. I’m supposed to be back out on the floor by now. But fuck it. I’m not gonna leave her. I’m not a total asshole.
“I got your shirt all wet,” she whispers.
I shrug. “It’ll dry.”
“I’m so sorry,” she says, blowing her nose. “I don’t know why I’m acting like this.”
“Just a guess, but probably because something is wrong?”
She looks at me through bloodshot eyes. “I didn’t tell you this, because I didn’t want you to think I’m one of those stupid girls who makes drama out of everything—”
“I don’t think that.”
She nods and takes in a shuddering breath. “My dickwad ex-boyfriend and my best friend have been hooking up all summer.”
Ex-boyfriend? What ex-boyfriend? Okay, focus on the best friend. “Carrie, right? Or Karen?”
“Karen. Yeah.”