Page 92 of Goalie Secrets

“Thanks, Kyle.”

“You got it. So, I’ve called Christina. Your mom would have my head if I didn’t update her. Are the guys bringing your phone back?”

“They’re coming in tonight,” Blake says.

“Your mother wants to hear from you as soon as you’re out of here,” Kyle warns.

“He can use my phone,” Blake offers.

Once Kyle leaves and I’m discharged, Blake tosses me his phone.

“Here. Call your mom. She’ll hound me if I don’t make you check in. I don’t want to get on her bad side.”

My mother’s cell is the only number I’ve memorized in my entire life. She picks up on the second ring.

“¡Mijo!” she says, relief flooding her voice. “You’re OK?”

“I’m fine. Out of the hospital and heading home now.”

“What did the doctor say?”

“Take it easy for a week, light skating, nothing serious,” I say, keeping it short.

“And Vanya? What does she think?”

I pause, pressing my thumb to my temple. “She’s… thorough.”

“Thorough?” my mom repeats, her tone heavy with skepticism. “That woman is brilliant. If she tells you something, you listen. She knows what she’s doing.”

“I listen,” I state defensively.

“You think you can handle everything on your own, but you can’t, Jeremy,” she scolds. “Sometimes you need to trust people who care about you. Is that so hard?”

I close my eyes, guilt twisting in my gut. “It’s not that.”

“What? What aren’t you telling me?” she prompts gently.

“I don’t want to screw things up,” I admit, although the sentence could mean a million things.

Screw up my career? My time with Vanya? My one chance at the championship? My body? All of the above?

She pauses, and when she speaks again, it’s gentler. “You won’t screw anything up, Jeremy. You know why? You’re already an incredible man just as you are. There’s no circumstance that will screw up how generous and kind you are. Can you remember that, son?”

“I’ll try,” I say, though I’m not sure I believe it.

“Good,” she says firmly. “And don’t you dare push yourself too hard. Promise me.”

“Promise,” I reply.

I hand back his phone. “She’s worried about you?” Blake asks.

“All mothers are worried about their kids,” I say automatically.

But then I remember Vanya after her mother’s visit. How much she shook in my arms and trusted me not to let go. She talked about the impossibly painful decision to sever ties with her mother. As horrible as it was to watch the woman I love fall apart, it felt good to be the one to hold her, comfort her, help her.

She thinks she’s helping me, but she’s wrong. I’ve received the best medical care in the world and all the help money can buy. What Vanya is offering isn’t medical care or assistance. It’s an ultimatum that I couldn’t accept.

Damn it, I wish I could talk to her right now. Once I’m free of Blake’s babysitting duties, I’ll head to Vanya’s place across the street.