Page 30 of Playing It Forward

Holy mermaid swimming in the sea. Am I seriously pregnant?

I place my hand on my stomach as if I can answer the question by mere feeling.

I wish I could be happy. I wish I could welcome this child into the world. But I know what pregnancy means. Depression and death.

What am I going to do?

Chapter 11

There are not enough ice packs in the world for this situation.

Nolan

My phone rings and I grab it from the coffee table.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Nolan, how are you?”

“Good,” I say automatically despite my shoulder killing me.

I should be in bed. Practice was tough today and tomorrow won’t be any easier. But I can’t get comfortable enough to sleep. And I refuse to use sleeping pills.

“You’re up late.”

I chuckle. “And yet you’re calling me.”

“Well…um…”

Shit. I know what her stuttering means. “What does he want?”

“To speak to you.”

“Tough shit.”

“Here he is.”

Naturally, she doesn’t listen to my wishes. My mother is the sweetest woman in the world. She’s also a pushover when it comes to my dad. She gives him everything he wants without question. Without considering the damage it does to her children.

“Son,” Dad begins and I growl. He’s never been a dad to me. How dare he refer to me as his son?

I want to hang up, but it won’t do any good. Mom will guilt trip me for refusing to speak to Dad. And Dad will yell at me for hurting Mom. I don’t care about Dad yelling at me, but I don’t want to hurt my mother.

“What do you want?” I manage to ask between grit teeth.

“How’s training camp going? How’s your shoulder holding up?”

I glance at my shoulder – at the ice melting on the table – and flat out lie to him. “I’m fine.”

“You still hungry? You’re not getting distracted on that island, are you?”

My mind immediately goes to Terri. I was looking forward to seeing her this morning, but she rushed out of breakfast with her hand slapped over her mouth. I hope she’s not sick. She works too hard. She’s always taking care of everyone else at the resort. Who takes care of her?

“Your job right now is football. Everything else comes after.”

I snort. After? The way it came after for him? By the time he gave up on ever winning the Super Bowl and decided he should spend some time with his family, I was in high school and had learned how to survive without a dad.

“Nice talk. I need to get to sleep.” I hang up before he can respond.