Page 6 of The Goalie

“Hi, Daddy,” I say in the cute voice he loves so much. “How was work?”

“Exciting as always,” he says with a warm smile. “Is your mother getting ready for the party? We can’t be late.”

His eyes dart up the stairs. He goes to take a step around me, but I block his path.

He looks at me funny. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”

I take a deep breath. “Mom is fine.”

“Okay,” he says, suddenly on edge. “What happened?”

“She got some poison ivy on her face.”

“What?!” he charges past me and runs up the stairs. “Lynn! Lynn! Where are you?”

It’s so sweet how worried he gets. I know he loves her so much.

I race after him as he runs down the hall to their bedroom.

“Lynn!” he says, stopping short in the doorway when he sees her. “Oh my god! Baby, what happened?”

“That malicious devil plant attacked my face,” Mom says with a bitter look. “It attacked and it won.”

“We have to get you to a hospital,” he says, bursting into action. He runs into their walk-in closet and grabs a bag.

“She already saw a doctor,” I tell him.

“I’m fine,” Mom says with a long exhale. “Besides looking like a monster and having the itchiest eyes in human history, I’m fine.”

He drops the bag and races to the bed to sit beside his wife. “You’re always beautiful to me,” he says as he cradles her and kisses the top of her head.

“Yeah, right,” she says with a laugh, but she sinks into his arms and lets him hold her.

I love watching them together. They’re so sweet.

Growing up, I always knew my parents were soulmates. They were always so in love. Holding hands while going on walks, dancing around the kitchen to David Gray songs, leaving cute little love notes to each other around the house—that’s what I was exposed to growing up.

They were great role models for a perfect relationship, but that always put so much pressure on me. I mean, true love like that only happens to a select few. What if I wasn’t one of the lucky ones? What if I wasn’t as fortunate as they were?

I think it actually stopped me from dating.

Any guy who ever showed a lick of interest in me was always compared to that unrealistic standard. Could this guy be my soulmate? The answer was always no, so I didn’t show any interest back.

Now, I’m a twenty-two-year-old virgin who’s never even kissed a guy. I’m beginning to think that my parents’ perfect love affair was a fluke. An anomaly.

I’m starting to think I should start lowering my standards.

But how can I when I’ve been watching this my entire life?

“I’m not going to the fundraiser tonight,” my father says as he holds my mother tighter.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Mom says. “You told the whole team it’s mandatory. You can’t flake out on them.”

“Oh, yes I can.”

“No, you can’t. I’ll be fine. I’ll have a drink and go to bed early. No big deal.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

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