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“What do you mean,continue to be?”
“It’s not you,” I say quickly. “It’s just that Mom is always so focused on everything I could do differently, everything Icould dobetter. And then for her to tell me that my baby was going to ruin my career?—”
“She should never have said that.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Dad’s eyes widen in the same warning look he used to give me when I was a kid. Inevertalk to my parents like this. But I’m not sure what he’d expect, given Mom’s reaction when we told them about our marriage and this baby, and the fact that I’ve heard absolutely nothing from her since then.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about your mom, sweetie. And I feel like maybe if I give you some more information, you might better understand where she’s coming from.”
I’m tempted to say she should be the one reaching out to explain. And while objectively that might be true, I guess the most important thing here is that I actually understand why she treats me the way she does.
I pick up the rest of my spring roll, nodding that he should continue. “Your mom was at the pinnacle of her riding career when I met her.”
“I know she was.” Mom was fresh off an Olympic gold medal and was the guest of honor at a show jumping competition being held at Wellington Show Park. My dad, a hometown hero, who’d won an Olympic gold medal two years before when the US Hockey team beat Canada in a huge upset, was also attending the event. The Hartmanns, who are at least a decade older than my parents, introduced them. There was clearly some matchmaking going on, and a few months later, my mom moved to Newbury Falls to train at Wellington. She and Elise formed a quick, close bond, my parents got married, and Mom started working at theequestrian center with her new best friend instead of competing.
“The thing is, Eva, she moved here because she was pregnant.”
My lips part, but for a moment, no sound comes out. “That math doesn’t check out.”
Dad presses his lips together and nods. “Not for you, it doesn’t.”
“I . . . wasn’t your first kid?”
“Your mom miscarried pretty far into the pregnancy. By then, she’d already walked away from competing—there was no way she could safely train while pregnant, or compete for England now that she was married and living in the US.”
I do some more quick math in my head and realize there were nearly four years between my mom’s Olympic medal and my birth. “She didn’t want to go back to it after that?”
“She’d already chosen her path, we were married, I couldn’t move to England, and she already had a job here. I know she doesn’t regret it, because she loves us both very much. But I do think she regrets not being able to continue competing. You may have noticed,” Dad says, and his lips turn up slightly at one corner, “your mom has quite the competitive spirit.”
“So she threw all that competitive energy into me once I was born?”
“She always said that, no matter what your dreams were, she’d do anything to help you achieve them.”
Including micromanaging my career and making me feel like shit. Got it.
I lift an eyebrow as I stare at my dad, and the slight bob of his head tells me he understands. He doesn’t have to be amind reader to know what I’m thinking, because he and Luke’s family finally saw the way she talks to me.
“I know you don’t always agree with her methods,” Dad says and reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “To be honest, neither do I, and she knows it. I’ve never known anyone as driven or high achieving as your mother, and that’s saying something, considering that my entire career has been spent with hockey players. Your mother could accomplishanythingshe puts her mind to.”
I think about her multiple degrees from prestigious British universities, her many equestrian medals, and the way she’s helped grow Wellington Show Park into the preeminent equestrian facility in the Boston area.
“Yeah, she accomplishes a lot by sheer force of will,” I agree, but there’s a slightly bitter note to the words, because we both know that her parenting style is included in that.
“I always tried to temper that aspect of her when she was dealing with you. But I don’t think I always knew everything that was going on. The way she talked to you about those cupcakes? I was ashamed of how shocked we all were, and how unsurprised you were by her comment. I’m sorry I wasn’t more aware.”
“The thing is, Dad,” I say, thinking about how much he was gone during my childhood. Before the Rebels, he coached at the college level, and while their season was a bit shorter and the stretches of away games weren’t as long, he was still away quite a lot in the winters. “Nothing Mom says is untrue, per se. It’s just that she treats me like someone she’s coaching instead of like her daughter. Her win-at-any-cost attitude hasn’t made me better; it’s just become something I have to deal with, to learn to compartmentalize, whiletraining and competing. If anything, it’s probably hurt more than it helped.”
“I’m sorry.” Dad shakes his head sadly. “I need you to know that I’m not trying to justify anything she’s done. I just want you to understand why your mom’s always been so invested in your career—in making sure you have had every opportunity to achieve your dreams. And I want you to understand the back story, so you can decide what you want to do from here.”
“I appreciate knowing the whole picture,” I say with a sigh. “But I’m not planning on doing anything. The ball is really in her court now—if she wants a relationship with me, she can reach out. It’s time we both stop excusing and apologizing for her behavior.”
My dad raises his eyebrows and looks at me like he’s seeing me as a capable, independent adult for the first time. “You’re absolutely right, honey. Also, in case it wasn’t clear enough before, I’m tremendously proud of you, and I know you and Luke are going to be amazing parents.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
LUKE
