Page 23 of The Golden Goalie

Rico’s mom laughs. “Yes, they are.”

“My brother-in-law, Aiden, is like that. He’ll be sitting with us one minute. The next, he’s heading downstairs to work out or to escape; my money’s on the latter.”

Maria smiles. “Yes, I can see that with Aiden. He's not really a people person.”

I practically snort at that because he’s the furthest thing from a people person. “You seem to know him pretty well. Do you know all the guys on the team?” Curiosity gets the best of me.

“Between the games and seeing the guys coming and going from here, I’ve gotten to know several of them over the last few years, I guess. They’re good boys.”

I laugh at that. “Boys?”

“Well, that’s how I see them, at least. But you’re right; they’re men. Good men. Well, most of them anyway. The debate’s still out on that Sebastian.”

“I’m totally telling him you said that.”

She gives me a look. “Like that will bother him.”

“He’s getting much better now that he married Stephanie,” I admit.

She sighs. “That boy is so head over heels in love.” We’re both quiet a moment, and I hate the now somber atmosphere.

“Did you...” I regret the words.

“Did I what?” she pushes.

“Did you ever feel that kind of love with Rico’s dad?”

She takes a deep breath. “I thought I did.” I nod because I feel those words in the depths of my soul.

“Do you ever wish he stayed?” Part of me can’t believe I’m asking these questions of almost a complete stranger, and yet, I feel a connection with Rico’s mom. These are the questions I want to ask my own mom, but I’ve been too scared to. And yes, I realize I’m a coward.

“It wasn’t him that walked out the door.” I stare at her as she continues. “Marriage is supposed to be forever. I believed that when I got married, and I believe that now. But I also don’t believe a woman should stay with a man who is abusive—whether that’s physical or emotional. When a woman has to protect her children from their father...” she shakes her head. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be. I’ve seen far too many women stay when they should have left, and it cost them their children and sometimes almost their very lives. My friend almost didn’t make it out of the house the night her husband set it on fire.” She swallows hard. “That’s not okay. That kind of a man doesn’t get to be with his wife or his children.”

It’s absolutely silent after her revelation. “Is that how Rico’s dad was? Abusive?”

“Never obviously. But he didn’t come home at night, would get calls all hours of the night, didn’t have explanations for where all our money disappeared to. Then he would have the audacity to boss me around and tell me all the ways I was a failure as a wife. He would demand that we have sex; it was myduty.”She laughs but it’s not humorous. “He would have bouts of anger where he would throw things or punch his hand through a wall. I knew it was a matter of time before it was me or one of the kids, and I wasn’t going to wait around for that to happen. I told him; I gave him chance after chance. It was alwaysthe same—excuses, empty promises. It was time for me to leave. I packed up what little the kids and I had and walked out the door and never looked back. We made our own way.”

I swallow down the emotion in my throat. “I think you’re the bravest person I know.”

She smiles. “Not really.” She studies me. “Did you leave him, or did he leave you?”

The scene I walked in on flashes before my eyes, and I shake my head. “I walked in on him with another woman.”

“And you left him for good?” she presses.

“Oh yeah. I’m never going back with him, not even if he begged me.”

She pats my hand. “Then I don’t think we’re that different. You’re brave too, Amber.”

Tears hit the backs of my eyes, and I groan. “Pregnancy hormones. I never cried before I got pregnant.”

She laughs. “I remember those days well. But I meant what I said. It takes courage to leave a man. You’re pregnant and alone, and yet you’re not running back to him. You’re the bravest person I know too.”

I stare at her. “You really think it’s brave?”

“I do.” I let her words sink in for a moment and lean back in my chair. My stomach isn’t trying to empty itself for the first time in forever. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s that I feel really comfortable with Rico’s mom; but I feel myself opening up. I blow out a breath. “I don’t wish I wasn’t pregnant, because I know this is a gift. It’s just kind of hard to see that right now. Does that make me a terrible person?”

Rico’s mom puts her hand over mine. “No, Honey. Not at all. You’re just being honest. It’s a lot—being pregnant and on your own. I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. You have a rough road ahead of you.” I drop my head. “But you’re up to the task, Amber.”

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