Mom was still in her pj’s reading the paper when I arrived at her apartment forty minutes later. She was the only person I knew who still had the Sunday paper delivered to her house. I found her sitting on her living room couch with her legs folded up under her while she sipped her coffee.

“Hey, you’re early,” she said as I bent down to give her a hug.

“Things were a little crowded at Hamilton House this morning.” I pulled off my jacket and tossed it on the recliner. Mom raised her eyebrows. I knew what that meant. Sighing, I picked up the jacket and walked to the closet to hang it up. Even now that I was an adult, one of Mom’s looks still got me to jump into action.

Once my coat was stowed away to her satisfaction, I joined Mom on the couch and grabbed the sales ads. Not that I was a big shopper, but I liked to skim through each one. One of these days I wouldn’t be a poor college student anymore, and hopefully would have the money to actually buy something frivolous. That was if I could find work after graduation. I had this terrible fear that I would finish school only to discover there were no jobs available. I was forever second-guessing my major. Art history was a narrow field, to say the least.

Mom left me to my reading for a few minutes before playing the mom card. “So, who do I need to hurt?” She set her empty coffee mug on the table.

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence. I buried my face in the newspaper. Mom always had the uncanny knack of being able to read me. She said I was like an open book and she could see my every feeling as if they were words on a page.

I sat stoically silent, willing myself to remain strong. As long as I used the paper as a shield, she wouldn’t be able to see my face. The silence stretched on, and finally I couldn’t resist peeking over the newspaper to see if she’d given up. It was a classic mistake that had bitten me in the butt numerous times growing up. I should have known. Mom never gave up. Lowering the paper, I found her eyes on mine.

I made a production of dramatically sighing and folding the paper before answering. “It’s no big deal.”

“If it wasn’t a big deal, you wouldn’t be keeping it from me.” That was her mom wisdom in action. There was no arguing with her reasoning.

“I’m a little confused,” I finally muttered, getting up to grab a Coke from the refrigerator.

She waited until I returned with my soda before asking. “About what?”

Her question was simple enough, but it opened the floodgates. Before I knew it, I was pouring out every detail to her: Dalton’s sudden interest, the text messages, the heart on his cheek that had earned him a date in the first place, and finally the look on his face after last night’s game and how he wasn’t returning my calls or messages. I didn’t mention that I had slept with him, and luckily she didn’t ask. I expected her typical parental advice about how we all learn from our mistakes, but she surprised me.

“There may be a simple explanation for what’s going on. I would wait until he calls before making any snap decisions.”

I looked at her incredulously. It wasn’t like she was a man-hater, but she’d always kept the guys she dated at arm’s length.

“What if he doesn’t call?” I asked, voicing my worst fear. “He did it before.”

“Oh, sweetie, he was just a boy back then. If I can bestow any of my wisdom onto you, I would encourage you to be patient. There might be things going on with him that you don’t know about. After your father, I always assumed every man would hurt me like he had. When any relationship after that would encounter a bump, I would walk away without a backward glance. I thought it was the only way to protect myself from getting hurt again. The older I get, the more I see the mistakes I’ve made. Not only did I push away a few promising relationships, but I also passed my distrust of men onto you. You’re young, and yet I already see you acting under the same assumptions I did.”

I couldn’t believe the words pouring out of her mouth. All my life I thought she was so strong the way she would see through the men who tried to hurt her. To hear her take responsibility felt wrong. She was just trying to protect her heart. How could she blame herself for that?

“You were always so strong.”

“Honey, I wasn’t strong. I was scared. Too terrified to give my heart to anyone after your father broke it. Now I’m a lonely old woman who wonders what I could have had if only I’d allowed myself to trust someone. I’m happy enough, but I feel like I missed the boat. You understand what I mean?”

“You’re not old,” I argued, moving to the couch to hold her hand.

“I feel old. But sometimes I’m just downright lonely.”

My heart ached at her words. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t realize you were lonely. I can come over more often. We’ll do more stuff,” I said as her eyes filled with tears.

“Sweetie, you’ve always been so good to me. I treasure every moment we spend together, but I know you’re busy with school and work. Besides, this kind of loneliness is different. I ache for companionship.”

I silently gnawed on her words. In a million years, I never would have expected to hear that kind of admission from her. I’d always admired Mom for her strong sense of independence. I wanted to be like her. Now I found myself reeling, not knowing what to believe.

She changed the subject, and for the rest of the afternoon we continued to chat like we did every Sunday, but we stayed away from the sticky subject of relationships. Only when I was pulling on my jacket to leave did she tell me to take her words to heart.

The next day Dalton still hadn’t called or texted. My doubts increased. Despite Mom’s big revelation, I was starting to think my instincts were right. Dalton had got what he wanted from me and he had moved on. I ended up skipping classes that morning and moping around the house.

I was debating watching a House Hunters marathon or taking a nap when my phone finally chimed. I nearly dropped it in my haste to answer when I saw Dalton’s name on the caller ID.

“Hello,” I answered. My voice was harsher than I intended.

“Courtney?”

“I see you found your phone again.” The sarcastic reply tumbled from my mouth before I could even think of retracting it.

I heard him sigh over the phone before he answered, “I’m sorry about that, Court. I know in light of our history that didn’t come off well.”

His voice sounded defeated and my sudden flare of anger completely dissipated. “What’s going on, Dalton?”

He hesitated, exhaling deeply before answering, “Just a bunch of crap.”

“With the team?” I sat on the edge of the couch on pins and needles waiting for him to get to the point.

“Nah, I wish. This is the same shit I’ve been dealing with for years. I guess you could say it finally came to a head.”

“Is it anything I can help with?” My heart was starting to ache from the pain I could hear in his voice.

“You’re doing it, babe. Just talking to you makes me feel so much better.”

“I wish I was there,” I said wistfully.

“Nah, you don’t. There’s nothing good about the place my mind is at right now. I would drag you down.”

“Dalton, can you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe talking about it will make it more manageable.”

He sighed again. “It’s just the same old family drama, trying to live up to the expectations of my asshole father.”

“You’re kidding, right? Your dad’s a sports guy. Aren’t you like a sports dad’s wet dream? Excuse me for putting it that way, but how the hell could you not be living up to his expectations?”

He chuckled wryly. “Shit, now I do wish you were here. I like hearing you all fired up. I bet you look seriously adorable right now, all ferocious.” He sounded marginally happier. “My father’s just always demanded the best from me. Sometimes I think he wants my basketball career more than I do. Every once in a while I get sick of hearing his shit. That’s basically what happened this weekend, but times ten.” His voice trailed off.

“What happened?” I was sure I sounded pushy, coaxing him along, but I wanted him to continue opening up to me.

“I pretty much told him to fuck off.”

“Wow.”

“I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve got enough going on in my head with the tournament without him coming to my room to tell me I’m fucking up by obsessing over some girl who means nothing. I lost it. I swear I wanted to rip his head off. Collin talked me down, but in the end I told him I was done with his abuse, that I was done with basketball. Coach Riley showed up. It turned into a whole thing.”

“No,” I gasped. I couldn’t believe things could escalate to that point. To think Dalton would be willing to walk away from basketball.

“I meant it. I’ll finish out the season, but I’m done trying to carry his dreams. It’s stopped being fun.”

“It could still be fun, Dalton,” I said. “If your dad would take your not so subtle hint and back off, maybe you could start to enjoy the game again. And I’ll be there, cheering you along.”

“You will? I was worried you wouldn’t forgive me for not calling. I just couldn’t until I got my shit together. My head has been seriously messed up the last few days. I’m sorry for doing that to you, babe.”

“Dalton, I understand. You don’t have to apologize. Want to know the truth? I had my doubts, but that’s my lame-ass insecurities.”

“Damn, I got to go. Coach is calling me.”

“Go. Call me when you get a chance. And, Dalton?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be watching you tonight. I expect to see you enjoying the moment. And kicking some ass.”