JULIETTE
Theo holds his hand out to me like he’s presenting a priceless artifact.
“It was averyserious paper cut,” he informs me solemnly, chewing his gum with heroic dedication as we stand outside the pharmacy. “I almost bled to death in the ficus section.”
“You absolutely did not,” I say, peeling open a neon-blue bandage. “But thank you for your bravery.”
“I survived,” he says. “Barely.”
I press the bandage over his finger. “There. You’re good as new.”
He inspects it, nodding. “I will remember you when I’m famous.”
I laugh and kiss the top of his head. “So. For your birthday, I have some thoughts.”
His eyes light up instantly. “Yes. Do any of them involve horses?”
“What?” I blink.
He grins. “Just kidding. I know we can’t get a horse yet.”
“Yet,” I repeat dryly. “Let’s circle back to that request sometime after you’re thirty.”
He giggles.
I tuck my hands into my coat pockets, suddenly aware of how fast my heart is beating. “I was wondering what you’d think if I invited Charlie and Vivian to come with us to…” I trail off, my courage wobbling.
I’ve practiced this. In the shower. In the car. In the mirror while brushing my teeth. I can do this. This is for my son. Not for me.
I take a breath. “To a Dominion game.”
His jaw drops.
“What?” he whispers, like he’s afraid the universe might revoke it if he speaks too loudly. “Are you serious? I get to go? Where would we sit? What game? Do I wear my new hoodie?”
“Whoa, so many questions,” I laugh, holding up my hands. “But that sounds like a yes?”
He bounces on his toes. “Yes? Yes! This is going to be the best birthday ever. Charlie’s coming? And Vivian?”
I nod, feeling good and basking in my Mom of the year moment. “Yes indeed. And the game just so happens to be on your birthday.”
Theo squeals and claps his hands. “Oh my gosh, Mom, do you know their power play percentage right now? It’s unreal?—”
“I know buddy,” I interrupt gently, telling a white lie because no I do not know anything about their percentages of anything. “You’ve got plenty of time to get me up to speed before the game so I can look cool and talk hockey with you.”
He still looks at me like I’ve just told him we’re going to the moon.
“I can’t believe this,” he says. “I’m going to see Sawyer play in real life. And he’s my friend, so it’s even cooler. The whole team is going to be there. This is amazing.”
The words spill out, tumbling over one another, and then his smile falters, but only a little. “Wait. Is Dad going to come for it?”
My chest drops straight through the sidewalk. Oh, crap.
Theo’s eyes are so hopeful it feels illegal to disappoint him.
“I—” I start, then immediately regret everything about that sound. “I don’t know yet, buddy.”
His shoulders dip just a fraction. “Oh.”
