Page 33 of The Golden Goalie

I stare at her and slowly shake my head. “I don’t know. I haven’t even thought about it, which I realize is dumb,” I add, berating myself.How have I not thought about this?

A hand covers mine. “Amber, Sweetheart, you are way too hard on yourself. You’ll figure it out. You have plenty of time to make that decision, and you might even change your mind anyway.” She takes another sip of tea. It’s quiet for a few minutes, and I’m unsure what to say. “Rico brought you home last night,” she says, breaking the silence.

“He did.” I don’t give her anything more than that, mostly because I don’t have anything to add. I take one last sip of tea. “I’ve got to get ready for class. Thanks for letting me have some of your coveted tea.”

“Of course. You’re welcome to anything in this house, Amber; you know that.” I kiss the top of her head as I drop my cup in the dishwasher. “I love you, Daughter of mine. You know that too, right?”

I stop at the entryway to the living room. “I know, Mom.”

“And that hasn’t changed just because you’re pregnant.”

“I know,” I say softly.

“Do you?” she asks pointedly. “Because I feel like you’ve been avoiding me since the night you told me you were pregnant.”

Guilt sluices through me. “I’m sorry.”

She studies my face for a moment, and I will myself not to shift under her scrutiny. She sees too much; she always has. “One day soon,” she begins softly. “You’re going to hold your precious child in your arms, and you’re going to realize that there’s not much you won’t do for that child. And that feeling only increases as they grow and develop. You’ll also realize that there is nothing they could do to make you stop loving them, even when they think they have.”

I stand there for a minute as emotions flow through me. “Do you,” I pause and swallow before straightening. “Do you want to go shopping with me sometime...for the baby?”

“Yes! When?”

“Wow, somebody’s anxious,” I say with a smirk.

“This is my first grandbaby, Amber Nicole.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “Got it. Let me look at my schedule and figure out when I have some free time.”

“That won’t be anytime soon, but I’ll try to be patient.” She gives me her best “mom” look. “I worry about you. I mean, I always worry about my girls; but lately, you’ve been working so hard on top of classes and...” Her voice trails off.

“And I’ve been distant,” I say so she doesn’t have to.

She nods. “You’ve pulled away.”

Guilt smites me once again. “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s not you. I couldn’t...” I pause. I glance at my watch. “I really have to go, or I’m going to be late.” I walk back over to her. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Baby.”

I hurry back to my room and throw on a pair of leggings because I can stretch them over my baby bump and throw on an oversized sweater. Well, it used to be oversized; not so much anymore. I throw my hair into a messy updo, add earrings, and grab my bag. “Bye, Mom,” I call out as I pass.

“Bye, Sweetheart.”

I head out to my car and throw my bag in the backseat before climbing into the driver’s seat. “I’m going to be so late,” I mutter as I turn the key. Nothing happens. “Ugh.” I take the key out and wait a minute. “Please start; please start.” I put in the key and try again and breathe a sigh of relief when it starts.

I barely make it to my first class on time. Somehow, I stay awake and alert for all my classes. On Thursdays, I have a three-hour break before my shift starts at the library, but I head there anyway. I stop by the college store before I get to the library and head inside. I leave with a newly purchased planner, notebook, and a pack of colorful pens. At the library, I find a quiet table in the back and set out my new planner, notebook, and pens. “Okay. Let’s do this.” It’s way past time I got my life together. I’ve been living life by the seat of my pants, just dealing withthe next thing as it comes along. It’s not working. It’s time for me to grow up and be responsible. I write down every one of my appointments, things I need to schedule for the baby, classwork assignments, test dates from all my syllabuses, my work shifts, and more.

“Amber, what are you doing back here?” I look up in surprise.

“Hi, Mrs. Randolph, I was just doing some organizing. Am I late?” I quickly glance at my phone to make sure I’m not late. My alarm didn’t go off, but maybe I forgot to start it.

“No, you have fifteen minutes. You just surprised me.”

“I’ll be up soon.”

“See that you are.” She wanders off, and I get back to work. When my alarm rings, I pack up. I have five minutes before I have to clock in. I take a deep breath. I feel like maybe for the first time in my life, I’m getting myself together. I throw my backpack over my shoulder and head up to the front of the library. I step behind the counter and barely drop my backpack in the seat when someone calls my name.

“Ambs, my Girl, where have you been?”

---