Page 140 of Even Exchange

We spend a few minutes in silence, clicking pieces together. The floral arrangement is almost done. I suppose it’s a lot quicker when you build as a team.

“Charlotte’s pregnant,” I blurt, unable to keep it in any longer.

“Oh, sole mio,” Mom says, her pieces clinking against the counter, and she turns to face me, her eyes welling with moisture. She pulls me into her arms, squeezing me tight. The dam breaks, and my own tears flow. All the anxiety, confusion, and frustration pours out of me. Here I don’t have to be strong. I can just… feel. My chest heaves, and she rubs small circles on my back. A few minutes pass, and I compose myself, pulling away. “Is she keeping it?” I nod. “And how areyoufeeling?”

My eyes meet hers. “Scared.”

“Of?”

I lean back against the seat between them, releasing a sigh. “How can I balance it all?”

“What do you mean?” Mom asks, and I look to her.

“You know how I am during season. I’m obsessive. And I can’t risk this job. I’ve worked my whole life for it.” My stomach sinks. “God, I sound like a self-centered asshole.” Pushing the chair back with a screech, I stand and pace the room. “Charlotte’s growing our child, and I’m sitting here worried about football.”

“You’ve worked hard for your career,” Mom says. “It’s okay to think about it.”

“But shouldn’t I be focusing on Charlotte?” I say, exasperated. “Be worried about her and her well-being over a stupid football game?”

“Thefootballis your job,” she reminds me. “It will bring in the money to pay…” With a soft voice she adds, “Per il tuo bambino.”?5

“And it’s okay to still think about yourself,” Tony says. “To be worried about what it all means.”

“But I can’t.” I drag my hands through my hair, taking quick breaths. “I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know how this will play out.” My head spins. “What if she needs me and I’m gone at an away game or something? What if—” I gasp for air.“I don’t—maybe she?—”

“NoahGabriel,” Mom commands, her hand on my back. I’ve stopped in the middle of the room, gripping my knees.“Inspira… due… tre… espira… due… tre…”?6

We continue for a few minutes until my breathing has returned to normal. She takes my face in her hands. “É normale avere paura,” she says, eyes holding mine.

It’s okay to be afraid.

I blink at her, face damp with tears. “I can’t control this.”

Her eyes are soft. “I know.”

“What if I’m likehim?”

She wipes a tear off my cheek. “You will never,everbe like your father.”

“But what?—”

“He’s a terrible man,” she interrupts. “Full of darkness and hate. But you,sole mio?” She places a hand on my cheek. “Mysun. You are light. To everyone around you. You are light.”

“Grazie, mamma,”?7I whisper and clear my throat.

“Now can I be excited?” she asks, a smile spreading across her face as a tear drips down her cheek. “Diventerònonna!”?8

I push down the anxiety. “You’re excited?”

“Of course?” she says, brows pulled together.

My eyes bounce between her and Tony, whose expression is unreadable. “You don’t think I’m an idiot? That I ruined my life?”

She takes my hands in hers and squeezes. “Do you think you’re ruining your life?” I shake my head. “And you want this baby, no?”

“Of course,” I say without hesitation.

“Then do you expect us to do anything besides support you completely?” Mom asks, placing a hand on my face.

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