Page 85 of Wingmen

When he was done, she was quiet for so long that eventually, he said, “Mami?”

“Sí,” she said. “I’m here.”

“Okay. So… Okay, so what do you think?”

She took so long to answer that he began to worry he may not want to know. He began to worry she might say a lot about Dios and Jesús and not much about him. He might not ever go back to her house if she said anything like that. And that would make him sad.

She took a deep breath. “Ay, Mijo, I don’t know. It’s going to be very difficult for you.”

That wasn’t…quite what he’d expected. He said, “I’m not making it difficult on purpose.”

The line was quiet for a while. Then: “No. I know. But do you– Okay. So do you have to tell them? Your team and your agent and your publicist? What will they think?”

“No, I don’t have to tell them. So you’re not upset?”

“Of course I’m not upset, I just…I’m surprised. But I’m always surprised by you: I thought hockey was going to be a phase you grew out of, and now you’re…you. So…”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I don’t think this is a phase.”

“Mm.” She was quiet again. Then: “Well, is he a nice boy?”

Elliot laughed. No, he was a grown man and a fucking asshole, which was exactly why Elliot liked him.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” he said.

“He doesn’t play you around?”

“No, mom, he doesn’t play me around.”

“And he’s a hockey player? Is he any good?”

Elliot smiled. “He’s the best.”

“So what’s the problem?”

He sighed. “I fucked it up–”

“Elliot! Don’tswear!”

“Sorry.” Elliot laid the phone down and crossed himself automatically. When he lifted it again, he said, “I said somethingreally bad and now he won’t answer any of my texts. I just want to apologize.”

“Mmm.”

He sat with the phone in his lap and watched Sophia try to convince Dorothy that her ex-mafia boyfriend was a perfectly decent guy, while he waited for some words of wisdom. Eventually, his mom said, “You know, before your uncle died I wished I said some things I didn’t.”

Elliot’s insides jolted. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d told him anything about Sal. Had she ever? Had he ever asked?

“I was angry, you know, very angry with him,” she said. “And I told him so the last time I saw him. And I don’t regret that – he needed to know. But I wish I would’ve told him that I loved him too.”

A lump stuck in Elliot’s throat. “You never told me that.”

“I know. I never told you a lot of things.”

“Why not?”

She sighed. “You know, Elliot, I don’t know. Maybe I thought I could shield you from what was happening if I just didn’t talk to you about it.”

“I knew what was happening.”