I can dance my ass off at a frat party with a bunch of drunken college students but next to my sisters who have serious skills, I look like an uncoordinated clod. For the most part, I’m just swinging my arms and legs around.
But you know what?
I’m having the best time.
We all are.
My dad looks up again, barely able to suppress his laughter. Mom stops what she’s doing in the kitchen and comes to stand next to my father. From the corner of my eye, I watch them share a private look and smile.
After about a minute, the dance number thankfully comes to a close. My sisters end in the same pose as the dancers in the parade. Since there’s no way I can pull off the grand finale, I twirl before adding some jazz hands.
Because who doesn’t like jazz hands?
My sisters laugh hysterically, and I can’t help but join them as they pile on top of me in the middle of the family room.
Later that evening, after the grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins have headed home, I’m in bed, scrolling through Insta when there’s a knock on the door.
Mom peeks her head around the corner. “Are you busy?”
I scooch up on my bed. “No, just scrolling through stuff online.”
She settles on the mattress next to me. “Today was nice, wasn’t it?” Before I can answer, she shakes her head and purses her lips. “Your cousin nearly ate an entire pumpkin pie by himself. The poor guy was groaning all the way to the car. I really hope he doesn’t throw up like he did last year.”
We both smile because that kid does the same thing every year. It’s just another tradition, I suppose. Sure, we could stop him, but who really wants to mess with tradition?
Once she sober, she says, “It’s nice to have you back home, Cassidy.”
Her words set off an explosion of all the nostalgic emotions plaguing me today as tears prick my eyes. “It’s good to be back,” I finally whisper.
“We really missed you. All of us.” She nips her bottom lip with her teeth. “Especially your father.”
Today has felt like a gift. I’m so happy that we’ve been able to work through our issues. It occurs to me that without Cole contacting my father and invited him to my first hockey scrimmage, this homecoming-of-sorts wouldn’t have happened.
I owe him so much.
My heart constricts as that thought rolls unwantedly through my head.
“I want you to know that I’m really proud of you,” Mom says, drawing my attention back to her.
My brows draw together as I force out an uncomfortable laugh. “For what? Flunking out of school and getting kicked off the hockey team?” Unable to hold her eyes, I focus on a picture on the other side of the room.
It’s only when her hand settles over mine that my gaze cut back to hers. “No, for picking yourself back up and having the courage to try again.”
I jerk my shoulders into a shrug. “I wish I could have gone to school and done well like everybody else. Instead, I made a big mess out of everything and disappointed both of you.”
“Oh, honey. We shouldn’t have sent you to your grandparent’s house after you came home from school. I think we were just in a state of shock and didn’t know what to do. Here we send our daughter off to play Division I hockey at a prestigious college and she ends up flunking out, getting kicked off the team, and…” her voice trails off awkwardly.
“Yeah,” I mumble. “We don’t need to rehash what happened.”
“Well,” she says with a sigh, “it happened. And there’s no way to go back and undo it. You have to learn what you can from the experience and continue moving forward. And that’s exactly what you’ve done.” There’s a pause. “What I’m trying tosay is that I’m proud of you for turning it around.” She quickly amends, “Both your father and I are proud of you for working hard this semester.”
I inhale a deep breath before pushing it out.
What she’s saying really means a lot to me.
My mom and I don’t have a super close relationship. While Dad and I were at the hockey arena, she was with Miranda and Lexie at dance competitions. It feels good that she’s here, telling me how proud she is.
That we’re kind of having—not to sound all sappy—a moment.