Chapter 13
thirteen
Tristyn
Hey, Mama.” My eyes meet Henry’s through the rearview mirror. “Can we go to that diner after hockey tonight?”
“I’ve got to work late tonight, baby. I’m sorry. Uncle Vince is going to pick you up from hockey today, but maybe you can go with him.”
“But you worked late last night.” His eyes fall.
“I know, baby.” I can’t tell him the reason I’m working all these late hours is that, between his hockey program and all my hospital bills, we’re barely making ends meet right now. “You get me for the whole weekend, though, okay? I promise.”
“Okay.”
“How’s hockey been? Are you enjoying it?”
“Yeah, it’s been fun. We’re getting a new coach. Damian and Luis seemed really excited about him.”
“Are you excited?”
He shrugs. “I’ve never heard of him.”
I laugh.
“And I’m just happy to hang out with my friends and learn how to play hockey.” He finally looks back at me, his smile fills his whole face. “Thanks for letting me play.”
“Of course. It’s worth it to see that smile on your face.”
We pull up to the rec center, and I put the car in park.
“Do you want me to walk you in, or is it uncool to have your mom walk you inside?”
“I’ll be okay.”
I get out of the car anyway, grab his stuff from the trunk, and find him on the sidewalk. I hand him his gear and then pull him into a hug.
“I love you, baby.” I kiss his head. “Have fun. Uncle Vince will pick you up later, but I want to hear all about it when I see you at home.”
“Bye, Mama.”
I watch him walk through the rec center doors and lean against my car. It’s crazy to see him so grown up. I remember being not much older than him, wanting to do everything by myself. Walk to the bus stop and wait without having a parent come with me.
I knew one day this would come; I guess I was just hoping it wouldn’t be so soon.
The little boy who changed my life and made me a mom is growing up.
I hate it.
But it also warms my heart to see him belong somewhere. To see him love something this much.
I brush the tears off my cheeks and then head around the front of my car to hop in the driver's seat, and that’s when I see him.
It takes me a minute to place him, to remember where I’ve seen him before, and then it hits me—
Outside of physical therapy.
Unlike before, it’s not an intense staring contest. He’s wheeling into the rec center and doesn’t even see me. I just watch him until he disappears.
Then I get in my car and drive away.