Page 58 of Love You Too

“Or asking for a hockey stick,” my mom adds. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing. Sports are so good for children. It taught Dominick about perseverance and commitment, not that I need to tell you that. After all, here we are, and he’s doing what’s right.”

Her subtext has my stomach lurching and my heart thudding like I’ve spent an hour on the ice. Protectively, my hand shoots to Trix’s knee, which I rub reassuringly.

“I’m doing what makes me happy,” I clarify, more for Trix than for my mother. Maybe what my mom said didn’t strike Trix as badly as it sounded to me. But I feel the way her leg tenses up.

“I do appreciate his commitment.” Trix smiles sweetly at my mother and forks a piece of lettuce. “I appreciate all the facets of him, especially how hard he’s trying to find balance.”

“Balance?” My mother scrunches her face up as though she doesn’t recognize the concept.

“Yes.” Trix takes a bite of her salad and looks at my mom innocently. It’s like a duel between masters, and my vocal cords feel suddenly frozen.

“You mean back in the summer, before the preseason games?” Mom clarifies.

Trix shakes her head. “Even now. We see each other between games. It hasn’t been an issue.”

I know Trix thinks she’s telling my mom what she wants to hear—that I’ll be a good, devoted father because my entire life isn’t hockey. But I feel my blood drain at my mother’s disapproving scowl.

I feel a muscle in my jaw start to tick. I’m about to say something, but Trix grabs my hand under the table, and her eyes dart to mine, letting me know she’s got this. We’re fine.

“You okay?” she whispers, looking from my mom to me with wide eyes.

I simply nod, trying to think of a way to divert this conversation. My mother will always worry about me. She’ll think fatherhood is too much for me to juggle, and she’ll fear that I’m sabotaging my livelihood.

“Dominick, are you having this girl drive back and forth to Berkeley several days a week? That’s not going to be able to continue in her condition, you know,” she scolds.

“No, Mom. I’ve been spending time in Napa.”

My mother visibly flinches. She picks up her iced tea and takes a sip. She doesn’t need to say more. The implication is clear—I’m right back where I was ten years ago, a love-struck fool who’s jeopardizing his hockey future over a girl.

“I see,” my mom says, finally. “But what about the team? You have a big responsibility as captain, and you told me the team needs a lot from you.”

“They do, and I’m giving it to them. I’m handling it all.” It’s not entirely true, and I feel a pang of guilt over the team’s lack of focus and Barrington’s misplaced faith in me, but I won’t lose this woman to hockey a second time. “Have some faith in me, Mom. I’m happy. I intend to be a good dad. And I’m in love with an amazing woman. I’m handling it all, and I’ll continue to handle it all. Nothing is falling between the cracks with the team.” I sit back in my chair and inhale a slow breath to calm my nerves.

My mom’s face is a stern mask, one I know well. She worries about me. But I’m not twenty-two, and I don’t need her to sabotage my happiness. I’m about to become a dad. Why can’t she just let me have this?

“I understand your worry, Mrs. Renaldi. Ellen,” Trix inserts, clearly not wanting me to implode my relationship with my mom. “We both know Ren’s a standup guy. He won’t let the team down.”

Trix shifts in her chair so I can’t see her eyes, and she holds up her water glass for a toast.

“What are we toasting to?”

She clears her throat, and her voice comes out strong and unwavering. “To being a standup guy.”

“That he is.” My mother holds up her iced tea. “Cheers.”

Trix puts down her water glass and picks up her fork. I try again to catch her eye, but she stays focused on her meal. My mom doesn’t notice anything, but I can tell something’s bothering Trix.

“Youokay?” I whisper when my mom signals for the waiter to bring dessert menus.

She puts her hand on mine under the table and tilts her head to rest it on my shoulder. It’s not an answer, but it gets me through the rest of our lunch.

CHAPTER 24

Ren

“Whatwasthat?”Trix asks as soon as my mother is out of earshot.

“I know, I’m sorry. She can be a bit much.” I scrub a hand over my face and try to explain why she’s so protective of me. “I’m her only son, and it’s just been the two of us since I was six years old.”

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