Chapter 54 Adrian
ADRIAN
My mom’s house is the same one I grew up in. It’s a detached, single-level family house with blue-colored siding and a huge backyard.
I notice Sonya staring at the obvious extension added to the side as we walk towards the door.
“She won’t let me buy her another house,” I explain.
“So my cheat code is to build and renovate this one, adding more and more space.” My head drops and my voice lowers.
“Don’t tell her this, but for her sixtieth birthday, I’m planning to buy the neighbor’s house.
They are selling it to me as soon as they retire next year.
After that, I’ll tear down the fence and make everything even better. ”
Soft color rises in her cheeks. “I am…” Sonya says, “…forced to admit…that’s sweet.”
At the thought of Sonya meeting my family, my heart is already racing, but to have her admit she thinks I’m sweet? It lurches with joy. “You think I’m sweet?”
“No, the gesture is sweet.”
My mouth tips into a smile. “I’m hearing that you think I’m super sweet.”
Sonya rolls her eyes while her lips twitch.
Before she can respond, and I can tease her again, the door swings open.
That’s when the chaos begins.
We get squeals of surprise and happiness as we’re pulled inside.
Beside me, Sonya is a deer caught in headlights, but she doesn’t run away. I put my hand on her lower back and fend off all the questions as we’re taken around the back to where everyone is eating dinner.
Two new chairs are added.
Around the dinner table, all six of my sisters introduce themselves. Aimee, Alexa, Aurora, Alice, Abigail, Ava.
My mom is at the head of the table, vibrating with excitement. “I’m Shirley.”
“And I’m Aria,” says my nibling with a pink mustache because they were snacking on a popsicle earlier. “But call me Sid. That’s my new name.”
Sonya straightens in her chair and introduces herself. Warmth spreads in my stomach because from the seriousness in her dark eyes, I know she’s trying to memorize everyone’s names. She cares.
“Oh, we know who you are,” grins Aimee. “Adrian talks about you all the time.”
Alexa looks gleeful saying, “I’m so happy you finally agreed to come over,” while Ava folds her hands underneath her chin and adds, “We’ve all been so excited to meet you!”
“He’s never brought anyone home to us before,” Aurora chirpily contributes.
Meanwhile, I’m making intense slashing movements across my neck in the background that my sisters ignore completely.
Sonya angles her head at them, frowning softly. “He talks about me all the time?”
I laugh loudly. Nervously. And barrel the conversation forward past her question by spilling a glass of lemonade. I’m shaky as I grab paper towels, because fuck.
She’s here. She’s really here.
I’ve imagined Sonya meeting my family so many times, but I didn’t think it would ever happen.
I thought maybe they would run into each other at one of my games—or in passing outside the locker room, even though over the years when Sonya has shown up to see the Wings, it’s not been when my sisters, my nibling, or my mother are there.
Timing hasn’t worked out, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about them meeting before.
I have. So fucking frequently. Why? I don’t know. I can’t shake the feeling that this matters. I love my family, and I want Sonya to be loved by them. And I want my family to meet Sonya so she might love them, too. And I want Sonya to look at me and lo—
My sister throws a dinner roll at me. It bounces off my arm. I gasp in horror. “We have our first game tomorrow. You could’ve injured me, Aurora.”
She cackles. “Please, you’re going to crush it, I bet.”
Alice looks at Sonya. “The Wings might have lost last year, but my brother always pulls it together. They’ll win this season, for sure.”
“Yeah, it’s Adrian,” says Alexa. “So duh.”
I smile because I should be happy, hearing how much they believe in me, but I’m also twisting my watch around my wrist needlessly. They don’t know how much pressure I’m under, about what’s going on with the GM.
It’s not their fault, it’s mine. Especially after Jesse passed away, I stopped opening up about what I’m facing, too scared it centered my needs above theirs. Now they consider me infallible, but I’m not.
My knee bounces as food gets passed around. I wish I could tell them I’m not sleeping properly, that’s how worried I am about the Wings. I just don’t know how.
Underneath the table, Sonya puts her hand in mine, anchoring me. When I glance at her, she nods. This intense, silent encouragement.
My pulse quickens. With her by my side, I was able to go to Jesse’s memorial. That lifted something old and heavy off my shoulders. Hearing the words it’s not your fault and believing them is shifting the ground underneath my feet. I want to deconstruct old thought patterns.
Can I keep going? Can I do this, too?
Sonya squeezes my fingers, and I exhale. Something unlocks in my chest. More courage.
“Actually—” My heart leaps. “So…this year. The GM said if I don’t prove to him that some players deserve to be here, he’ll, um, trade them.”
Silence.
No one speaks, until Aimee drops her fork. “That’s messed up!“
Her voice becomes a chorus, joined by the others. They hate the GM and how unfair his expectations are, and don’t agree with the pressure being put on my shoulders, how it can’t be my fault if anybody gets taken off the team.
“I’m trying to figure it out,” I find myself saying, automatically trying to ease their outrage.
With her hand against my thigh, Sonya gives it a light flick.
She arches an eyebrow. “Or…it’s okay not to be okay.
To be tired of being responsible for others.
To sometimes hate it. That doesn’t make you a bad person.
” She shrugs. “I know this is funny coming from me, but don’t look for a solution that is all on you to solve. ”
Her saying those words? It changes the dialogue.
Suddenly, my family is asking different questions.
“How can we help?”
“What can we do?”
“What do you need?”
That’s always been my role, asking all that. So I don’t have an answer. I have to think about it, but in the meantime, I realize there’s more I should share.
How I went to the memorial today.
Sonya interlaces her fingers with mine. She’s stroking the divot between my thumb and finger so softly. Calming touches.
I swallow, brace myself and tell them. It takes a while. Almost two hours of talking back and forth. Answering questions, taking breaks, and then speaking some more. There are starts and stops.
By the end, everyone is crowded around me. “Thank you for opening up,” my mom says sniffling into my shoulder. “We didn’t know. Now we do.”
There’s a flurry of hugs waiting for me. Beyond the crowd of my sisters and nibling huddling around me, Sonya waits, tipping her head at me.
My heart squeezes.
To have you feel like you belong here, I would do absolutely anything.
Good job, she mouths.
Please want this, I want to mouth back.
But I don’t. Part of the reason why is fear. I can’t risk what we have right now, jinxing the fragile connection growing between us, but also her audition is coming up. I’d never do anything to distract from her dreams.
So I smile and cheekily mouth good job back at her, when I really mean I’m completely yours.
Her eyes roll beautifully.
And then while I’m thinking of more secret messages to send, loud voices crash the dinner.
The Wings have arrived.