Page 24 of A Scoring Chance
“Auntie, what’s wrong?” Alise cocks her head to the side, her eyes roaming Ma’s form. “You’d never be caught dead wearing a pair of sweatpants.”
She looks down at her attire before rolling her eyes at me. “You two are overreacting, as usual. I am dressed.”
“But, Ma, you’re wearing sweatpants.”
Ma stops in her tracks, spinning around to face Alise and me. “I didn’t have to go pick up Darius from school today because he had student council before heading to practice, so I didn’t bother getting out of my house clothes.”
“House clothes?” Alise and I respond in unison, the concept completely new to both of us.
“Yes, house clothes. There’s no sense in wasting a perfectly suitable outfit if all I’m doing is sitting on my behind in the house all day. Who’s going to do all that laundry?”
I bite my tongue, not wanting to get into this argument with her again. I do everything around here, and I mean everything. I’m not complaining. I would just love a thank-you from her every once in a while, that’s all. I could be anywhere else or even have my own apartment in town, but I stayed here. I still sleep in the same twin bed my parents bought when we moved in, for Christ’s sake. I didn’t want her to be alone after everything that happened, and when Darius came along, it just made things easier for everyone.
“I never want to hear you complaining about my sweatpants again,” I mumble before flopping down on the other end of the couch.
“I’ve never had a problem with you wearing them in the house, Mona. It’s when you try to go out in public wearing them. Sweatpants aren’t proper attire to be wearing when you might run into someone you know.”
What she said without saying is that no man is going to want you if you’re always dressed like a slob. The joys of having a mother who demands perfection every time you walk out of the house. Do I ever listen? Sometimes, but that never stops her from giving me an earful every time I don’t.
“Okay, Ma,” I answer, hearing her unspoken statement as she makes her way into the kitchen and disappears from sight.
Alise waits until we can hear the cabinets opening and closing before she slides closer to me on the couch. “Do you think she forgot what I said about Cooper?”
“I sure hope so. After our last conversation, I don’t want to hear her mouth when she learns I met a superstar hockey player smelling like the farm.”
“You don’t smell like the farm, thank God. If you had, I’d have turned you right around and marched you back to your car to get the body spray.”
“What would I do without you?” I giggle before planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek.
“That’s disgusting, Mona. And you never have to find out because I’m a fungus. You aren’t getting rid of me now.” She flashes me one of her beaming smiles.
“Ramona, where the hell did you put the popcorn?” Ma yells from the kitchen.
“It's in the cupboard above the microwave. The movie theater butter you like is in the plastic bottle right next to it. “
“I don’t know why you always insist on moving things around in the kitchen. I can’t ever find anything here anymore.”
What she doesn't remember is that the last time we went to the grocery store, she told me to put the popcorn there instead of in the pantry where it has always been. Something about never being able to find it because it was in the pantry. Am I going to remind her of that? No, I am not. I don’t have a death wish.
“And don’t think I forgot what Alise said about you making googly eyes at some man at practice.”
“Not just some man, Auntie. It was Cooper Hendrix,” Alise responds in a sing-song tone.
“You aren’t helping,” I growl before picking up one of the throw pillows and smacking her in the face with it.
“You are definitely telling me everything from the beginning before we start this episode.”
“Yes, Ma.” I sigh in defeat.
Nothing good can come of telling Ma about what happened between Cooper Hendrix and me. Nothing good at all.
Chapter Nine
Cooper
The shrill ring of the phone makes me bolt straight up in bed. Patting around on my nightstand, I find the offending instrument and silence it before lying back down. The one perk of not playing with the team this season is being able to sleep in. By sleeping in, I mean not getting out of bed before the sun rises.
I usually wake up at six a.m. and do my morning routine, then grab a protein shake for breakfast on my way out the door. There’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive to the stadium, depending on traffic. When I arrive at the stadium, there’s no time to waste. I have to get suited up in all my gear, including my new fancy knee support pants and robo knee, courtesy of Murphy. After stretching and doing some lightweight lifting, I’m on the ice, ready to start practice by eight a.m. Between media availability time slots and physical therapy, most days, I don’t leave the rink before dinner time.
