As much as I was about to dedicate my life to hockey games for the foreseeable future, that didn’t mean I trusted the players themselves. They’d have to earn it the same as anyone else.
“Well, who is this job with that has you all elusive?" she demanded. I should have known she’d sniff it out like a hound.
There was no point in putting it off any longer.
“The North Crossing Narwhals,” I admitted, bracing myself for her reaction. She was quiet so long I almost thought the call dropped.
“I thought my daughter swore off hockey,” she said carefully.
It wasn’t accusatory. My mother was far too eloquent for that. She was always the type to make sure I formed my own opinions.
“I did. But, Mom, this is a life-changing type of job, and I wrote it into the contract that I wouldn’t be anything but truthful. So, if they expose themselves, they expose themselves…” I trailed off.
She let out an evil cackle. “And we both know they’re going to expose themselves.”
“Most likely. But I’m a journalist. I’m going to give the world the facts, whether I agree with them or not. So, if they truly have changed, then more power to them.”
“Miracles can happen,” she said. Then it clicked. “Wait. North Crossing?” she demanded.
“Yes. Which means temporarily moving.” We lived together and always have, which meant her being on her own for months on end. Yet another thing bothering me.
“Well, I guess I don’t have to turn down that business trip my boss was offering,” she said.
“Mom, why would you turn down a business trip for me anyway?” I practically shouted.
“Maybe I just don’t trust my daughter to be able to take care of herself sometimes,” she shot back, unfazed. “Despite raising her right.”
“Oh, the mom guilt,” I groaned.
She just cackled in true Olivia Crane fashion.
“So, what’s the trip for?” I asked, ready to talk about her over myself.
“Well, you know we got a new consulting partner at the firm?” she asked, her voice lighting up as she talked.
“Yeah, of course.” She’d gushed about it for weeks on end.
“Well, he’s great, and he’s helped to make some positive changes,” she admitted. “And he thinks that I could do more than they’ve let me so far, so he found this program. It’s a conference, really, a way to further my career.”
“Well, that’s fantastic.”
She’d been working as a paralegal for years, but had always wanted to become an actual lawyer.
“The best part is they give away scholarships. I might be able to go back to school, Rox.”
“You could have gone back to school anyway,” I argued. This woman’s stubborn nature should be fucking studied.
“I’m not taking money from my daughter,” she said with a huff.
“When do you leave?” I asked.
“Next week.”
“Alright. Let’s make time for dinner before then. I’m so happy for you, Mom. This is great.”
“I’m happy for both of us,” she countered. “But it feels like the end of an era.”
My chest ached at the thought. We’d been each other’s rock most of our lives but she was right. This changed everything.
