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Michelle makes a serious face, mean mugging at me as she points her V-ed fingers at her eyes and then the boys. “On it, Helicopter Mom Extraordinaire.”
Okay, so maybe I’m a bit more transparent about my overprotectiveness than I thought. But she’s got no room to talk. I had to convince her to let Liam play.
The boys’ cheers renew and I hear them call out, “Coach B! You’re here!”
The sun’s blocking my sight a bit, throwing the newcomer into a bright halo so that all I can see is a black silhouette. A very large silhouette. And then a deep voice gruffly says, “Sorry I’m late, guys. Had to finish chores before I could leave, but I brought snacks for after practice.”
“Yeah!” they cheer, not even knowing what he’s brought. If I were a betting woman, I’d lay odds he could bring them tuna fish in a can, tell them it was good protein, and they’d scarf it down. At least that’s what Cooper made it sound like when he was going all nutritionist on me this morning.
I grin slightly at the thought, and then the broad shape shifts and my stomach plummets. Not just to my toes but to the middle of the Earth beneath them. It can’t be. Please don’t let it be.
My past.
My dream.
My shoulda, coulda, woulda.
My . . . Bruce.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper and I feel the heat of the other moms’ eyes glaring at me for daring to cuss in front of their snowflakes, even though there are no kids within twenty feet of us.
Michelle knocks my shoulder with her own. “Told you. Climb him like a damn tree.” She leans forward and glares at the mom on the other side of me, and distantly, I realize she said that loudly this time on purpose in solidarity with me.
“No, I . . . Michelle, I know him.” Her jaw drops a little at my lost expression. I pull myself together and grab her arm, hissing, “Michelle . . . I know him. That’s Bruce Tannen. My first boyfriend, my first love, my first everything.”
Delight makes her eyes sparkle. “Like in the biblical sense? That’s a story I have got to hear!”
I shake my head, trying to stand up. “I have to get out of here. I can’t see him. He can’t see me. I have to go.” Michelle arm-bars me across the waist, forcing me back into my folding camp chair.
“Nope, nu-uh, no way, just NO. Sit your ass down.” She’s using her mom voice on me, but since I’m a mom too, it should have zero effect on me. But because she’s my best friend and I’m weak and feeling like the whole world just got yanked out from under my feet, I somehow do as she says, settling dumbly back into my seat.
“I’m going to get that story, but not right now while we have other ears,” she whispers, smiling sweetly, but we all know it’s saccharin-coated venom. She’s got no problem with the other team moms, and neither do I considering I just met them, but we’re a team of two inside a team of many, and they are all listening intently as they pretend to watch their sons on the field.
And Bruce. They’re all watching Bruce, which makes possessive jealousy ignite in my belly like hot, sour lava. I swallow thickly, forcing it back down.
No, I don’t have the right to be possessive or jealous. He could be married for all I know, or sleeping with the whole team of moms sitting down the sideline, or the whole town. I don’t know, and I shouldn’t care.
But I do.
I’m stuck. I can’t leave, Michelle won’t let me, but I can’t stay because he’ll see me, want to talk to me, and I’ve got nothing good to say.
Oh, you know . . . been here and there, fucked up my whole life but got Cooper, who is my sun and moon and every star out of the deal, so there’s that. Makes the rest of the nightmare no big deal, you know? And besides, I’m mad as a damn hornet at you, so you can fuck off, asshole.
Or worse, maybe he wouldn’t even recognize me, wouldn’t even care. Maybe I’m just some girl he used to know way back when.
I consider getting up again and making a run for it, but Michelle hums under her breath. “Don’t even think about it.”
Shit. Is this woman psychic?
Helpless, I resort to the bad habits I worked and fought to lose and shrink myself, curling into my body and ducking my chin into my chest as I pull my knees up, resting my feet on the chair. I let the curtain of my hair fall forward, obscuring my face, and will my presence to be unnoticed and unobtrusive. All moves I’m way too familiar with.
