I hold back my laughter. Leave it to my mom to know me completely. “I’m gonna act like I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“You stay a constant pain in my ass. Please wrap up, Owen. You’re so damn busy.”
I shrug. “I have been on my best behavior while I’ve been here. She even said you and Dad raised a good guy.”
“Was she drunk?”
“Damn, Mom,” I say, feigning hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”
“You are, very much. But I know you’re hurting, missing Evan, and I worry you’re just out willy-nilly with your dilly all over town.”
I pause while reaching for another protein. I look over at Dart, who looks back at me.
“What?”
“My mom says I’m willy-nilly with my dilly all over town.”
He snorts. “We should make that a T-shirt.”
“What in the world!” my mom screeches.
“We’d be rich,” I decide, holding back my laughter.
Dart beams, nodding as he humps the air. “Then we’d be really willy-nilly with our dillies ’cause all the women would want us.”
“I don’t know if I like that guy,” my mom complains then, and I laugh.
“You’re the one who brought up my dilly.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll leave your dilly alone, but please consider coming home. I miss you so.”
“I miss you,” I say automatically, and even though the season is ending in several weeks, I’m not ready to leave. I was before Angie, but not anymore. She could blow me off tomorrow, but it’s unlikely. I think she likes me, a lot, and I sure as hell like her. The only thing I don’t like is how surprised she is every time I call or text. We had two away games this week, so I FaceTimed her when I knew she was working out. She answered, as if she couldn’t believe I called. That was annoying. I even told her I would be FaceTiming her, but she still struggled to believe it.
“Hey, Mom, I have a question,” I say as I find the powder I want for Angie. I throw it at Dart, and he catches it one-handed before taking the wad of cash I hand him.
I point to the outside, and he nods as my mom says, “What’s that, my heart?”
My chest tightens, and man, I miss her. She’s been calling me her heart my whole life, and it’s honestly my favorite. Once I’m outside, I ask, “Did you ever struggle with insecurities about your weight?”
“Owen Michael, you’d better not be developing something. You’re so damn strong—”
“Jesus, Mom, not me. I know I’m hot.”
She pauses. “You know, for a second, I thought I was talking to Evan.” I chuckle, and she laughs softly. “But yes, all women do, honey. We live in a world where your weight defines your worth. I’ve worked very hard to instill in y’all that it doesn’t, but not everyone is taught that.”
I nod. “How did you deal with it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you go to therapy or what?”
“Well, actually, it was your dad.”
“Dad? What do you mean?”
“He reassured me. He loved me, hard, and always made me feel perfect in my skin. It didn’t work all the time, especially at the beginning. I honestly don’t know why he stayed with me. But obviously, he knew we were meant to be together even when I didn’t.”
I have to smile at that.
The epic love story of my parents is plastered all over our house and then on YouTube. My parents had broken up for a reason unknown to me; Posey said it has something to do with an aunt we don’t talk to, but I never got the full story. But they broke up, and when my mom showed up with her male coworker to an Assassins’ hockey game, my dad thought the dude was another man in her life. So, he shattered the plate of glass where she was sitting to “scream my love at her,” as he so psychotically puts it. Guess that did it for my mom because she wanted him back, so she sang to him in the middle of a packed arena, and the rest is history.
Shea and Elli forever.
I turn my attention from the past back to my mom as she finishes, “…then I would be done being pregnant since I was always so big with all of you melon heads, but no matter what, Shea reassured me.”
“Evan had the melon head. Mine was normal-sized. Not anymore, I know,” I say, and she laughs.
“I love all of your melon heads,” she promises. “But why do you ask?”
I don’t know if I should say anything because when it does come out that Angie and I are together, I don’t want my mom to know Angie is insecure. Or struggling with her looks. “Dart is dating someone who hates her appearance, and I basically told him the same thing you said.”
“Oh. Well, good. Maybe we did raise y’all right.”
“Just a bit, but I’m still the best out of everyone.”
“Of course you are.”
I press my lips together. “You’re gonna text Posey, Evan, Shelli, and Quinn they’re the best as soon as we get off the phone, aren’t you?”
She isn’t even ashamed. “You know it. I love you.”
I smile as I shake my head. She tells us each we’re her favorite, but I really do believe it’s Evan who is the for-real favorite. Then she tells each of us we are the best, and success-wise, Shelli has it, but Quinn is going to be a doctor. Which leaves Posey and me to be normal hockey stars. Oh well, at least I know I’m always loved.
“I love you too, Mom.”
We hang up just as Dart comes out. “I bought two. I want to try it.”
“It’s good, really great vitamins,” I say, taking the bag with Angie’s stuff. “Did you get the protein bars? I’m sure she didn’t eat.”
“Yeah. Why doesn’t she eat?”
I shrug. “She tells me she forgets, but I think she taught herself to go without to lose weight.”
He makes a face. “She doesn’t need to lose weight. That girl is made to have curves like that.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her, and if I was sure she wouldn’t leave me for you, I would have you tell her.”
Dart grins like a cat. “Dude, she would. Do you see all this?” he says, moving his hand up and down his body. “And my dilly is the size of a hockey stick.”
I flash him a dark look. “It’s about the girth, my friend,” I retort, not that I’m lacking, but he does have a toddler arm down there. Lucky asshole. He laughs, and I roll my eyes as we head to my truck. Just as I’m getting in, though, I notice a nursery.
I point to it. “That’s like a nursery for plants, right? Not kids?”
He looks out at it. It’s a rather large place, and I’m sure it’s too big for kids, but I’m still unsure. “I don’t see any kids. Just green shit.”
“Cool. Let’s go check it out.”
“Why?”
“Angie likes plants.”
“Why? They don’t do anything,” he complains, and then he chuckles behind me. “You’re gonna buy her a plant?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I want to make her happy. She’s had a rough week.”
“Maybe you should just lay it down for her. She’ll be out of that funk.”