Page 28 of Thoroughly Pucked
Suddenly, her TV unfreezes and an upbeat feminine voice booms from the TV. “Are you ready for a morning Badass Yoga workout?”
I turn toward the big screen. Mom scurries across the room to grab her remote, the little dogs following at her feet like rats after the pied piper. The freckled blonde on the screen gives a confident, California-girl smile and says, “That’s what I thought.”
“You take Briar’s classes,” I point out. “That’s cool…”
Mom hits pause and whispers conspiratorially. “She’s so…motivating.”
“She was great when she worked with us.” The team hired her to teach some yoga classes last season. She was funny and calm at the same time while giving personalized tips for each athlete who needed them.
“I have a girl crush. Don’t tell your father,” my mom says, finger over her lips.
“I’ll keep your secret.”
“And I’ll keep yours about your crush on Garrett’s sister.”
I shake my head at the Chihuahuas at my feet. “Why is she like this?”
But Lulu and Virgil don’t have an answer.
12
HONEYMOON PRESENT
Aubrey
“I’m fine. I swear,” I tell my mother for the ten millionth time. It’s Sunday, a few hours before I’m due at the airfield.
Airfield!I’m still pinching myself.
“Are you sure?” My mom wrings her hands. Her kitchen table teems with boxes wrapped in silver and white foil, satiny ribbons curling over the sides. A pile of pristine envelopes sits next to the boxes. I suspect those envelopes hold gift cards and best wishes.
The sight of them brings a fresh wave of guilt. I hate that I inconvenienced so many people, but Mom is diligent. She’ll make sure everyone gets their money and gifts back.
For now, I dry her dishes as I keep reassuring her, just as I’ve been doing since I arrived.
“I promise,” I say. This is familiar choreography.
She frowns. “Really?”
“I swear.”
Propping her up is second nature. I don’t mind being her shoulder to lean on. That’s what I was when my father died three years ago, and of course I’ll be her shoulder now. I’m responsible for her woes, anyway.
“There has to be something I can do.” She gestures to the fridge, eyes flickering with hope. “Can I pack something for your flight? A lunch? I have crackers and grapes, and I can whip up a sandwich like that.” She snaps her fingers to punctuate her offer.
I’d sound like an asshole if I said what I was thinking.I bet they have amazing snacks on a private jet,like chocolate-covered strawberries.
I really should save my appetite.
I fight off a smile, not sure I want her to see exactly how excited I am to check out a plane. “Thanks, Mom. But I’m not hungry.”
She waggles some freshly washed grapes in front of me. “Grapes are so good.”
“I’m okay,” I say as I finish drying the last dish and hang the towel on a hook by the sink.
She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she says softly, her voice quaking, then strengthening. “I should have known better. I should have seen it coming. I hate that he did this.”
And her emotion escalated quickly from sorrow to anger.