Page 24 of Even Exchange

Clean room, clean mind.

Sharing a hotel with Theo was definitely a test of patience.

Standing in my childhood bedroom, I struggle to pinpoint the emotion it evokes. I’ve been gone for years, and Mom hasn’t changed a thing.

My homecoming king crown sits on the shelf next to the football I threw for the game-winning touchdown during the state championships my senior year of high school. The Lego spaceship I spent an entire summer building—an exact replica of the Millennium Falcon, if I do say so myself—is hung evenly by string from the ceiling above my desk. Mom hasn’t even gotten rid of my collection of Rubik’s Cubes on my dresser, which serve no other purpose than to remind me of how absolutely awful I am at completing them.

My eyes snag on the dresser’s corner, and my lips fall to a frown. The downside of the room being untouched like a mausoleum? Shitty memories reside here too. The chipped wood draws my thumb like a magnet, and I run it over the jagged edge. Habitually, I reach for the back of my head and slide my finger along the mirroring scar.This stupid hunk of wood was stronger than me.Not anymore.

“Breakfast is ready,” Mom calls, pulling me from the murky memory.

In the kitchen, I find her and Tony, my stepdad, giggling near the coffee pot, probably about whatever was on his “Joke a Day” flip calendar.

“Morning,” I say, and their attention slides to me.

“Buongiorno,sole mio,”?1Mom coos, running over and placing a kiss on each cheek. I got in late last night, and we only chatted for a few minutes before I went to my room and crashed.

I chuckle. “Buongiorno,mamma.” ?2

She releases me, returning to the coffee pot.

“Morning,” Tony says over the brim of his coffee cup with a warm smile. His Italian is limited to the basics, so Mom and I mainly stick to English when he’s around for his benefit. Although, given Mom was born and raised Italian, she slips in and out of it more often.

“How long are you here?” Mom asks me.

“Until Sunday.”

“Wonderful.” She beams, handing me a steaming cappuccino as I sit on a bar stool at the kitchen island. “Nicole’s niece is in town. I’m sure she’d love to get together.”

Tony snorts a laugh, taking his place next to me.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” I grumble. “But I’m really not interested in dating the neighbor’s niece.” Mom plays matchmaker for me like she’s an executive ofThe Bachelor. She’s also the sole reason I even know what that godforsaken show is. “So how’s work been?” I ask Tony in an attempt to change the subject off of my dating life.

He smiles. “Just won a big case we’ve been fighting for months.”

“Look at you, out there changing the world, one family at a time.” I nudge his shoulder, and he grins into his coffee. He’s a family law attorney and never stops advocating for those kids. Every day, he sees the worst of the worst andhelpsinstead of being the problem. He sure as hell helped us.

That’s why I trust him so much with my mom.

And that trust doesn’t come easy.

“Draft’s coming up.” He arches a brow, and I shift in my seat. “Any top picks?”

Biting my cheek, I look between them. He’s the main reason I’m almost comfortable going out of state when drafted.Almost.

“You’re acting weird,” Mom calls over her shoulder. “Spit it out.”

I sigh heavily, anxiety consuming me. “I hate having no control over where I end up. What if I’m not close enough anymore?” I ask, eyes finding hers. “What if you need me?”

Mom dons a sympathetic smile. “Oh,sole mio,I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing gently. “Your mom can handle herself, and if not, you know I’m here.” I nod, and with each reassurance, a weight is lifted.

“Please, stop worrying.” Mom rounds the island and throws her arms around me. “And no matter where you end up, you need to make areallife for yourself. Because if I hear you’re going home every night after work to your empty apartment with no friends, orgirl, that’s gonna make my mamma heart really sad.”

A tightness squeezes my chest, and I lean my head against hers. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good.” She kisses my hair, then returns to the kitchen. “Besides, I’m ready for some grandbabies. This big house is too empty and quiet when you’re gone.”

---