Page 76 of Goalie Secrets
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Vanya look this distressed. “I take it you’re not close?”
A chuckle devoid of humor escapes her tight lips. I recall something from the past, when she compared our mothers.
“Is this the woman foolish enough to think she could make a second version of herself with someone as unique and beautiful as you?”
“Jeremy, c’mon.” Her voice wavers for a second, but she pushes through. “I’m not looking for compliments, OK?”
“Doesn’t stop you from deserving them.”
“I should shore them up now, shouldn’t I? Like armor to stave off all the veiled insults about how I’m fat, or my hair isn’t done right, or whatever else I’m failing at this time.” The terrible words, although spoken softly, lash the air between us.
It’s ridiculous to think that the woman in front of me is a failure atanything. What the hell is her mother’s problem?
“She actually says that stuff?” There have been hints at Vanya’s insecurities but not with this level of distress.
“Yup. It’s a constant refrain from my childhood. Nowadays she doesn’t have to say it outright, she just has to look at me.” Vanya laughs bitterly. “I’m a disappointment she has to endure. It doesn’t help that she’s, you know,her.”
She opens up her mom’s social media profile to reveal a perfectly filtered photo. A beautiful woman who could be anywhere between thirty to forty looks over her shoulder like she’s on the cover of a fashion magazine. She has flawless skin, sleek hair, and a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“She’s a social media influencer,” Vanya explains quietly. “Hundreds of thousands of followers. People think she’s perfect.”
I stare at the picture, then back at Vanya. “She’s not perfect.”
She blinks up at me. “Jeremy—”
“I’m serious,” I say firmly. “I don’t care how many followers she has, she’s not half as beautiful as you are.”
Her eyes widen, a flicker of disbelief breaking through her guarded expression. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I don’t have to, but it’s the truth.” I take her hand, gently pulling her closer. “She might have filters and followers, but you have something better. The kind of beauty that doesn’t need a glam up. You’re gorgeous inside and out.”
Her cheeks flush, and for a second, she looks like a child, unsure yet trusting. It’s a heartbreaking combination that makes me want to hold her tighter. So, I do. I engulf Vanya and rub her back.
“Your dad isn’t in the picture?” I whisper into her hair.
She shakes her head. “He passed away when I was a kid.”
I pull away so we can make eye contact. “I’m sorry, Vanya.”
She gives me a slight, grateful smile that makes my chest ache.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“Anytime,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Now, about dinner tonight.”
She hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, dinner. I’ll stop by that Italian place on Bryson.”
“Perfect. I love their lasagna. I’ll grab cookies for dessert.” I squeeze her hand. “And just so you know, no matter what your mom says or what this ‘big news’ is, you’re amazing. Don’t forget that.”
“I have you around to remind me, right?” she proclaims as a joke.
Unfortunately, Vanya has no idea how much I want to remind her how amazing she is all the time and every day.
The crunch of tires on the driveway pulls me away from my second cup of coffee this morning. It’s a freezing February morning outside, but nothing is colder than my back as I brace for this visit. The last time I had an in-person conversation with my mother was over a year ago. Messages and texts between us never cease, but I’m usually the one who visits her when summoned.
I glance out the window and immediately regret not pretending to be at work. Part of me hoped that Zara Gupta would cancel again, like she did the last two times she sent her travel itinerary. No luck today.
The glossy black SUV is more suited for a celebrity entrance than an airport ride. Mom always travels in style. The door is opened by the driver.