Page 64 of Power Play Daddies
“Not yet,” I say, reaching for more pancakes. “We’re waiting on the semis to wrap up. Should know by tomorrow.”
Her face lights up. “That’s exciting! How’s training going?”
“Good,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Coach is keeping us sharp. Practices have been intense, but it’s paying off.”
She sets her fork down, her eyes narrowing just a little. “Are you conditioning your body properly? I’ve been reading about ice baths. They’re supposed to be excellent for recovery.”
“Mom,” I groan, but there’s no bite to it.
“What? I’m just saying, you push yourself hard. Recovery’s important.”
“I know, I know.” I shake my head, grinning. “How about breakfast first, then we can talk ice baths?”
“Okay,” she says with a laugh.
We eat, chatting about random things—my schedule, her garden, some movie she watched on the plane. By the time we finish, I’m feeling a lot more awake.
The beach is quiet, the sun just starting to peek over the horizon. The air’s crisp, the sand cool beneath my feet.
“Wow,” Mom says, looking around. “This is beautiful.”
“It’s why I come here,” I tell her, spreading out a mat.
She sets hers down beside me, copying my movements as I stretch out.
“Okay, yoga master,” she teases. “What’s first?”
I snort. “Master? Hardly. Let’s start with some sun salutations. Just follow my lead.”
She does, and to her credit, she’s not bad. We move through the poses, her laughter bubbling up every time she wobbles.
“This is harder than it looks,” she says, trying to hold Warrior Two.
“Yeah, but you’re killing it,” I say, adjusting her arm.
She laughs. “Flattery won’t make me any better.”
“Sure it will.”
We keep going, the flow slow and easy, more about the moment than the workout.
After a while, we’re both lying on our mats, staring up at the sky.
“I’m glad we did this,” she says softly.
“Me too,” I reply, glancing over at her.
There’s a pause, comfortable and warm, before she turns her head to look at me.
“You’re doing amazing, Mason. Really.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?”
I grin. “I won’t. Promise.”
“Good.” She sits up, stretching her arms above her head. “Now, about that matcha place…”
