Page 71 of Hat Trick
But now, she’s going out with friends? When did that happen?
“Okay,” she huffs. “Can you hear me okay?”
I can still faintly hear the music and the dull sounds of conversation, but it’s not nearly as loud as before. “Yeah-yeah, Mom, I can hear you.”
She doesn’t waste time getting to what we both know is the point of this phone call. “Well, it’s about time you called me.”
I hang my head. “I know, Mom. I don’t even know where to start. I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. It just—I—It all felt like too much. Everything with Emerson. With Liliana. With Dad.” My voice cracks at the mention of him. “Withyou.God, Mom. I’m so so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot. It will never happen?—”
“Don’t you dare apologize, Dominic Foster,” shescolds, and it catches me completely off guard. “I mean, yes, you can apologize for ignoring me. I’m your mother. You should never ignore me unless you’re planning on surprising me with something. Preferably in the form of flowers. Ooo or a grandchild!” Her wild jump from flowers to a grandchild makes me huff a laugh. “But don’t you apologize for one moment about the other day.”
“But-but I forgot, Mom. Iforgot him.” A small, single tear rolls down my cheek.
She’s silent for a moment before she lets out a heavy sigh. “Dominic, my sweet boy. There was a time when your father’s death consumed us. When the grief of his loss felt so big that neither of us were sure we would ever feel anything stronger. I lost my husband, my person. And you… you lost your father, the man who was a part of you. I don’t blame either of us for feeling that way.”Well, fuck. So much for a single tear.“But that feeling… that all-consuming feeling of grief and loss, it shouldn’t be the strongest thing we feel in this life. He would want us to be happy. To be brave. To be bold. To beloved. There is nothing stronger than that, Sweetie. To be loved, tolovewith everything you have…that’sthe peak, Dom.
“Your dad would want that for us. He would want there to be more important things in your life than the fact that you lost a parent. I know I do.” She sniffles softly on the other end of the line.
“I’m-I’m so afraid, Mom.”
“And that’s okay. It’s okay to be afraid. But you wanna know what?”
The way she asks that reminds me of when I was a child. When she’d say,“It’s okay to be afraid, but you wanna know what? You are so, so brave, Dom.”The memory eases some of the pain in my chest. “What, Mom?”
“You have already gone through one of the hardest things you’re ever going to face. And sure, loving someone, orsomeones,” she mutters, “means there’s a chance you will lose them, but think of the life you could have in the meantime. Think of the happiness, the smiles, the memories made. You could have a lifetime of memories, Dominic. Don’t rob yourself of that just because you’re afraid.”
You could have a lifetime of memories, Dominic. Don’t rob yourself of that just because you’re afraid.
The words hit me so hard they may as well be branded on my skin. Because I know, from this moment on, I will never forget what she just said.
Don’t rob yourself of that just because you’re afraid.
“Is that what you’ve been doing? Creating memories?” I ask her.
I don’t have to see her to know a slow smile is spreading across her face. “He wouldn’t want us to be alone, Dominic. And I’m not. I have you. I have friends that love me. I’m rebuilding the life he would have wanted for me.”
For the first time in three days, a true and genuine smile spreads across my face at the thought of my mother moving on from something so horrific. “We don’t have to forget about what happened to us, Dominic. We can share him and his story with newloved ones. We don’t have to forget about him. But we do have to feelmore.”
“I know, Mom. I know,” I answer softly.
“Listen, I have to go, it’s almost my turn for karaoke, but can you do me a favor?” A deep laugh rumbles in my chest. I should have known that’s what she was doing. I gotta get my performance skills from somewhere.
“Anything, Mom.”
“I was supposed to have a therapy session this afternoon with Dr. Miller. I won’t be able to make it because, well, if I’m being honest the sangria has gotten away from me and I have about five more songs I’d like to sing. But the time is already booked. So, I want you to go.”
I curl my face up at the thought. It’s been years since I stopped going to therapy. I never felt like it was the right fit for me. “I dunno, Mom…”
“Just try. Go once, and see how you feel. You never know, it might make everything you’re feeling a little bit more digestible.”
She’s right. I’m a different person now than I was five years ago. It couldn’t hurt. Right? “Alright, Mom. I’ll go.”
“Perfect! I’ll shoot Dr. Miller a text and let him know to expect you.”
I smile to myself. “Alright, Mom. I love you. And… thank you. Foreverything.”
“I’m always here, Sweetie. I love you.”
Knowing she won’t be the first to do so, I hang up, letting her get back to her day. Mom texts me the timeand address of Dr. Miller’s, and two hours later, I’m sitting on his couch, ready to word-vomit a lifetime’s worth of bottled-up emotions in the span of sixty minutes.
