Chapter 61
Chapter sixty-one
Rosa kissed Imogen at the door, then narrowed her eyes inquisitively at Billy. The unspoken: ‘What’s going on?’
Billy smiled, letting her fingertips drag along the small of Rosa’s back as she passed into the hallway. It was hard not to just reach out and touch without thinking. She focused on the aroma of garlic instead.
“Everything alright?” Rosa finally asked. They were all bunched in the hall by the foot of the stairs, removing coats and shoes and picking up Imogen’s dropped bag.
She smiled at Billy. “You can go through. Dinner is minutes away.”
“I’m starving,” Imogen said, as dramatically as anyone ever stated they were hungry. “Thanks for cooking, Mum.”
Rosa beamed. “I just thought you might have had a good day and want to celebrate, and equally, if things hadn’t gone so well…comfort food.”
Imogen wandered into the kitchen and nabbed a piece of cheesy garlic bread from the plate of freshly baked scrumptiousness.
“Definitely a celebration, I think,” Imogen said, pulling a chair out. She sat down and took a big bite. “I got to play with Nora Brady,” she told Rosa, chewing. “If I die now and never play again, I’ll be happy.”
Rosa busied herself by the oven, pulling on oven mitts. “I’m sure you won’t die.”
Billy smiled at them from the seat she’d chosen.
“I spoke to someone called Katrine—” Billy was saying, when Imogen put her garlic bread down and cut in.
“Shut the front door! Katrine Gustafsson? The first team manager?”
“I think that’s who she said she was, yes.” Billy played dumb. “Is she important then?”
“Three-time Champions League winner. Icon of Swedish football, Ballon d’Or winner, and she’s won a title in every country she’s played in.”
“So, she’s quite good then?” Rosa said, playing along with Billy as she carried the tray of mac and cheese to the table.
“Quite good?” Imogen said, then studied them both and caught the smirks and grins. “Huh, you’re winding me up.” She laughed, then turned to Billy. “So, what did she say?”
“Something about whatever happens from this, you should keep playing because you’re very good.”
“Oh my God, KG thinks I’m good!”
“Very good,” Rosa pointed out. She passed a serving spoon to Billy, their gaze holding just long enough. Imogen didn’t notice.
“They said I’d hear from someone in the next few days to set up a meeting. I think you both have to go because I’m not eighteen.”
“I’m sure we can arrange that,” Billy said, digging the spoon into all the cheesy goodness. She reached for Imogen’s plate and deposited a spoonful, adding a second for good measure before placing it back onto the table in front of her.
Billy held her hand out for Rosa’s plate, smiling when it was passed across. She did the same two scoops again. “Enough?”
“Plenty, thank you,” Rosa answered, taking her dish. “So, did they give any inkling of what might happen next?”
“Not really in words, but I got a ton of ‘see you next times’ and pats on the back from my peers, so…I’m kind of hopeful.”
“I’m very…we’re very proud of you, Imogen,” Rosa said. She smiled as she looked between her daughter and lover. “Whatever you choose to do in life, we will be right beside you.”
Imogen glanced back and forth. “Thanks, it means the world that you can both be here, in the same room, celebrating with me.” She picked up her fork and looked down at her plate. “I just wish it was more often.”
“Is that what you were talking about in the car?” Rosa asked.
It was Billy who answered. “Yes. But also, Immy had questions about why we aren’t together. She knows that she can speak to either of us about it at any time and we’ll both be honest and explain.”
Rosa nodded, picking up her own fork. “And maybe we can do this more often, if that works for Bil—your mum?”
“That would work for me,” Billy said, accepting the offer. “I was thinking, with how much Imogen has on her plate now at the weekends and after school, it might be easier if we spent more family time together instead of her trying to split her time.”
“I see,” Rosa said, digging around in her food with her fork.
“I mean, I thought we could talk about it and see if that was something we could—”
“No, it sounds like a good idea. I just need to process how it might work.”
“Of course. We don’t have to decide anything now.” Billy smiled and slid her fork into the gooey pasta. “This is delicious, by the way.”