Page 30 of Your Pucking Mom

“Yeah?” I asked, trying to figure out how much a lawyer would charge us if they demanded Austin leave his contract.

“It will require something of you, though, Mrs. Hart.”

“Ms. Hart.”

Austin’s big, blue eyes bore into mine, and I shrugged, giving him a half apology before turning my attention back to Coach.

“What do you need me to do? I’ll do anything.”

Coach’s lips curled into a smile. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

I wanted to pace around the room but resisted, opting to remain seated. “I can monitor Austin when he’s at home,” he said. “Plenty of guys in the building can take turns ensuring he’s following our rules.”

“What rules?” Austin interrupted, and although I wanted to tell him to stay quiet and agree to whatever Coach said, I had to let him seek clarification if he needed it.

“You are no longer allowed to go to bars, especially with that fake,” Coach stated.

Austin shrugged. “They cut it, so I don’t even have it,” he retorted, and I wanted to scold him for his attitude.

“Austin,” I cautioned, and he lowered his head.

“After practice, you’re required to come straight home, especially on game nights,” Coach announced.

“No celebrating with the team?” Austin asked.

“No,” I said before Coach could say a word.

“The issue I’m facing,” Coach explained, “is that I can’t disrupt the other players’ pregame routines when we’re away for games. They get…obsessive about them.”

“I wear the same socks every game. I get it,” Austin chimed in, and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

It was an odd tradition, one that originated from an instructor who taught him how to skate before every figure skating performance. She passed it down to Austin when he was a toddler learning to skate, and he adopted it as part of his pregame routine.

“But I need my boys focused and ready for the game,” Coach continued.

“Of course, I understand.” I nodded, still not grasping the extent of what he was implying. I took a sip of my coffee, trying to process his words.

“So I know it’s a big ask, Ms. Hart, but I need you to accompany us on each away game.”

I spewed hot liquid all over Austin’s rented white rug. “I’m sorry. What exactly do you need me to do?”

There was no way I could keep a job and travel for all of Austin’s away games. I couldn’t afford the hotels and plane tickets…

“We can find someone else to do that. We can hire someone. My mom doesn’t need to be there, Coach.”

Austin stood, but I remained rooted to my chair. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as I struggled to comprehend the logistics.

“Ms. Hart?” Coach interrupted Austin, who was pacing around the room.

I redirected my focus to Coach’s words.

“I just…” I glanced at Austin, who was gazing back at me. “Is there another option?”

My voice came out quiet and hesitant, as if I were back in high school facing punishment in the principal’s office.

“No,” Coach said. “I’m sorry, but there isn’t.”

I sighed, looking at my son, recalling all the sacrifices I’d made to get us to this point. If I didn’t continue to sacrifice for him, what would it cost him? Earlier, I had indulged in a few hours of selfish freedom, and it was liberating, but that wasn’t my reality. My reality was staring me in the face. I would always be Austin’s mom first, and Auburn second. That was the way I wanted it, needed it to be. I couldn’t bear to become like my mother, selfish and putting her needs above her children’s.

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