She laughs, signing her name in the designated spots marked off with brightly colored sticky flags. “Maybe we should.”
“Hang on,” I tell her, and pull my phone from my pocket. “Smile,” I tell her.
She does, and then I take another with her holding up the papers proudly.
I think this is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. In fact, I can’t recall a time when I’ve seen a smile this genuine on her face, and maybe it’s strange to say, but I’m proud of her. She left a bad situation and she’s gaining back her life. Some might argue that she should’ve done it sooner, but I don’t see it that way. She did it and that’s what matters, not the when.
“Well,” she says once she’s done signing everything, “this will all be over soon.”
I hug her. “And your life can finally begin.”
She hugs me back. “It already began, it just took a detour and I hit a few pot holes along the way, but I’m finally on the right route again.” She lets go and holds me by my shoulders, looking me over. “I don’t tell you enough, but I’m proud of the woman you’ve become. You’re strong and caring and funny and amazing. I’m lucky to be your mom.”
I sniffle. “Don’t make me cry.”
It’s too late, though. The tears begin to fall and I’m helpless to stop them, but instead of sad tears, these are happy ones, and they cleanse my soul.
Practice kicked my ass. Each one gets more and more intense as we grow closer to the game season. I feel ready to fall over as I head to my truck. All I want to do is get home and fall into bed.
“See you tomorrow,” one of the guys calls after me.
I stifle a yawn. “Yeah, see you,” I say back, not even paying attention to whom I’m speaking too.
It’s late, we practiced all day, and the sun has almost completely set.
I reach my truck and climb inside the cab. I pull my phone from my pocket and check for messages. I smile when I see a text from Thea. I open it and laugh. She sent a picture of herself holding Prue. I text back: Cute and seconds later my phone rings, and it’s Thea calling. “Are you on your way home?”
“Yeah,” I answer, stifling another yawn. “I’m really tired so I think I’m going to head straight to bed.”
“Okay …” There’s a long pause on her end, and then, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“What?” I ask, starting the truck and heading toward the exit.
“My stupid dad is parked out front. Can’t he catch a hint and disappear? No one wants him around.”
I instantly tense. “Is Cade home?”
“No,” she answers. “He took Rae out to dinner. It’s just Mom and me.”
Should’ve gotten that security system.
“Whatever you do, don’t let him in.”
I instinctively know, rather than see, that she rolls her eyes. “Yeah, he might be my sperm donor but I’m not letting him in the house. He can rot and die for all I care. Don’t worry, okay? When it comes down to it, the man’s a big chicken. He won’t do anything.”
“Thea—” I warn.
“Iloveyoubye,” she slurs and hangs up.
I sigh. “I love you too,” I say to the empty line, and toss my now silent phone on the passenger seat.
I try not to worry on my drive home, but it’s hard not to. Thea might not think that her father’s capable of anything, but I saw the look in his eye that night in the basement, and the man is unstable.
A person who has lost it all is the scariest kind out there, because they have nothing left to lose. There’s nothing holding them back from going off the deep end.
When I’m about twenty minutes from the house, I call Cade.
“What? This better be important?” he says when he answers.