Page 21 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
“Whitney, take these out to the backyard, please.”
My mother’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I glance up to see her balancing a tray of glasses while pointing toward the stack of plates on the counter.
“They’ll start arriving any moment,” she adds, already moving on to the next task, her energy as sharp as ever.
I grab the plates, pushing open the back door with my hip. The late afternoon sun spills across the patio, warm and golden, a slight breeze rustling through the trees. The long wooden table in the backyard - normally used for casual summer cookouts - now looks like something straight out of a wedding magazine. A floral centerpiece stretches across the middle, and delicate fairy lights twinkle in the early evening light. My mom doesn’t do casual things.
I set the plates down and start arranging them, my fingers moving on autopilot when the sliding door behind me opens.
Aunt Lisa and Uncle Ray stroll in, their laughter ringing through the yard.
“Whitney, sweetheart!” Aunt Lisa swoops in for a hug, nearly knocking the breath out of me.
“Hi, Auntie.” I manage to smile as she releases me, “Look at you! You’re glowing.”
I laugh. “And so are you. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m doing good, sweetheart,” she says. Just as I was about to say something, Uncle Ray steps in with a playful clap on my shoulder, tipping his hat with a grin.
“Long time no see, kiddo.”
I smile, hugging him too. "Look at this place," Uncle Ray whistles, hands on his hips. "Your mum has really outdone herself."
"Does she ever not?" Aunt Lisa says, inspecting the setup like she’s the wedding planner herself.
"Need help, honey?"
"I got it," I assure her, but of course, she starts adjusting the place settings anyway.
The sound of car doors slamming out front snaps me back to reality.
Here we go.
More people trickle in - my cousins, the bride’s family, a few close family friends. The energy picks up, voices overlapping, drinks being poured. I barely have time to breathe before the sound of tiny, excited squeals pierces the air.
"Dadda!"
I turn just in time to see Ed’s two kids - Mason and Lily - barreling across the yard toward their father. He kneels, catching them effortlessly, a grin breaking across his face. "Hey, guys, I’ve missed you," he says, hugging them close.
His wife, Claire, steps up beside him, looking effortlessly put together despite wrangling two toddlers. “Why didn’t you call me when you landed? I would’ve picked you up," Ed tells her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
She waves him off with a smile. "It’s fine. You were needed here anyway."
Ed squeezes Claire’s waist before setting the kids down, letting them toddle off toward the small play area set up in the corner of the backyard. Laughter and conversation weave through the air as more people trickle in, exchanging greetings, hugs, and playful jabs.
Mom steps outside, scanning the growing crowd. "Oh, good, everyone’s almost here," she says, clapping her hands. Her eyes land on Claire. "Claire, sweetheart, you’re here. Can you help Rosa bring out the casserole?"
"Of course," Claire says before disappearing inside.
Mom’s gaze shifts to me. “Whitney, honey, you look beautiful, but please go run a comb through your hair.”
I resist the urge to groan. “Mom…”
“And…,” she continues, scanning the crowd, "…and—oh! Tell Rosa to please not wear that mismatched whatever she plans on wearing.” She sighs, clearly overwhelmed, eyes darting around like she’s searching for more things to micromanage. “And, and…"
I grab her hands before she can issue another command. “Mom, calm down.Breathe.Everything is fine. Stop worrying overnothing. This is ameet and discussmeeting, not the Met Gala. No need to get all worked up.”
She presses her lips together, but I can see the gears in her head still turning.
