Page 11 of Don't Look Down

My phone vibrating in my hand startles me awake. With my heart beating a thunderous rhythm, confusion rises, but my senses return quickly. I must have fallen asleep somewhere in the midst of all the overthinking. I can’t pinpoint when it happened. My brain must have hit the off switch and decided to put me out of my misery.

Another round of vibrations follows and my heart leaps. Sky? I squint at my phone. It takes a few blinks to clear the sleep-blurred vision from my eyes before I’m able to decipher what’s on the screen.

It’s not Sky. Disappointment curls heavily through my chest and my heart rate slows. There’s a string of texts from Mom, telling me she can meet for dinner in about an hour. And, as an afterthought, she’d added “can’t wait to see you, it’s been too long!” We saw each other last week. I’m still looking forward to eating a good meal with one of my favorite people, though.

There’s a little bit of time to kill before I need to leave. Famiglia Luigi, lovingly referred to as Luigi’s, is located abouttwenty minutes away from my house and less than five minutes away from Mom’s. It’s one of my favorites; a quaint little local spot, where I won't get mobbed by hockey fans.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my fans, and I definitely love the attention, but I also enjoy a peaceful dinner every now and then. And it’s needed today more than ever, considering how unsettled I'm feeling. Although I got some rest, the exhaustion still lingers. I’m incapable of being “on” today. I don’t have the mental capacity.

I’m a few minutes early, but she still managed to beat me here. Mom is early everywhere. Early in her mind equates to on time. It’s another of her superpowers. All moms have them and you can’t tell me otherwise. I try to emulate her ways, and I’m proud to say I’m mostly successful.

Parking my dark blue Escalade next to her Lexus, I can’t help the grin that overtakes my face. She wouldn’t let me buy her a house, so the SUV was our compromise. I’d only gotten her to agree because I’d convinced her it would make me happy.

It’s the least I can do for her after every sacrifice she made for me. I want to take care of her like she’d taken care of me. But she’s not having it.

Annie Spencer is nothing if not independent. She’d let me have a piece of her mind that day. Mom informed me very bluntly, I could take care of her when she was old and senile, and that day was not today.

Mom always wanted a brand-new Lexus. She practically drooled over that car, but she couldn’t rationalize spending all that money on herself. So I did it for her.

Walking inside I greet the hostess by name and make my way over to our table. You can call us regulars at this point. We know it can get pretty noisy in here. It’s always a bit less crowded toward the back, so we prefer sitting at this little table in the back corner.

“There’s my baby.” Mom smiles up at me.

I lean down to squeeze her in a hug and press a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, Mom. How are you?”

Her eyes sparkle at me in happiness. With my dirty blonde hair and emerald-green eyes, I’m told I’m Mom’s twin, aside from my height. I prefer to think I got my height from my granddad, but I know better.

That characteristic came from my sperm donor, unfortunately.

He’d skipped out on Mom faster than the plus sign showed up on the pregnancy test. Pops has told me more than once over the years that my father disappeared like his ass was on fire, so he didn’t get nailed for statutory rape. The max sentence would’ve called for fifteen years since he was a grown-ass man who impregnated a 14-year-old girl.

My dear old dad was a winner, ladies and gentlemen.

Said no one ever.

We never needed him anyway. To this day, aside from a photo, I can say I’ve never laid eyes on him, and I’m not sad about it.

Thankfully, my grandparents were supportive and helped Mom wherever they could. Gran babysat so Mom could finish high school with an accelerated learning program. She actually finished high school a year early like a boss.

As ateen mom.

Fuck statistics, thank you very much.

Pops helped with all things hockey. I fell in love with the sport, thanks to him.

Although Mom worked a ton while I was growing up, she always made it a point to eat at least one meal a day with me. Breakfast or dinner. Sometimes lunch during the weekends or school breaks. Family was the number one priority and she taught me that through her actions.

And somehow, shenevermissed a single hockey game.

Not one.

Mother magic. It’s sorcery, I swear.

Now that I play for the NHL, she makes it to almost all of my home games and a handful of away games when her schedule allows.

“I’m good. Was just missing you while you were away. You boys have been kicking ass out there this season. I’m proud of you!”

“Thanks, Mom. The team’s really strong this year and we’ve been busting our asses in training. Just a few more months until playoffs begin.”

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