LYING ON THE FIELD WITH GEMMA, my arms beneath my head and a book open against my chest, I tried to ignore the heat of the sun.
"I don't understand why my dad won't let me play basketball again," I grumbled. "It's not like I'm going to get injured."
"I think your dad is just scared of you ending up with one leg. I mean, who's going to marry you if that happens?" Gemma remarked. I pinched her arm lightly in annoyance, and she burst out laughing.
"Why did you do that?" she asked between giggles.
I shot her a playful smile. "Stop joking about this, Gem. Mrs. Lanai will talk to my dad today, and if he declines, it's goodbye to basketball for me."
Gemma stood up, a thoughtful expression on her round face. "I think you should have a heart-to-heart talk with your dad. Tell him how much you love to play. I'm sure he'll consider it this time."
"That might work," I agreed, standing up and giving her a quick hug. "Thanks, I hope it does."
"I'm sure it will. It works on my mom," Gemma reassured me with a nod.
As we heard footsteps approaching, we turned our heads to see Mrs. Lanai walking towards us. I jumped up from the ground, dusting off my jeans, and hurried to meet her.
"Zoey, your dad agreed for you to join us in the regional championship," she announced cheerfully.
I couldn't contain the joy I felt at that moment, but despite my excitement, I couldn't help but wonder why my dad had changed his mind.
Gemma slung her arms around me from behind and whispered in my ear, "I guess you won't be needing my advice anymore."
"Don't forget practice session tomorrow." With that, Mrs. Lanai left.
That evening, Dad didn't come down for dinner, which was unusual. This was the first time he hadn't joined us for dinner. Ashley was busy eating as if nothing was wrong.
"Is Dad alright?" I asked, feeling uneasy.
Ashley looked up, meeting my gaze. "Dad isn't back from work yet," she replied simply.
"Aren't you bothered? It's not like Dad to be at work this late," I added, still feeling unsettled.
"What's your problem, Zoey? I said, da..."
"Your dad went to see your mom," Mrs. Becca interrupted Ashley, placing some fries on the plate next to mine. "The police arrested the Mexican guy your mom was with for mistreatment. She was rushed to the hospital this morning."
Ashley dropped her fork on the table abruptly and left the dining room. I was still trying to process the information when the door creaked open. To my shock, it was Dad, holding Mom next to him like an injured soldier returning from a war zone. Her stomach protruded under a burgundy dress, and her face was almost covered in plaster.
"Dad, what's this woman doing here?" I said, repudiating the fact that she was my mother.
"Zoey, I'll explain everything later. Becca prepared some food for her."
Mrs. Becca turned to the kitchen, leaving me standing there, watching the scene in confusion. I remembered vividly how Mom had left. What kind of love could make Dad act this way?
Now I understood why Ashley had left without a word. It was like she knew what was bound to happen. Back in my room, I thought hard, my palm resting under my chin. Everything felt like a puzzle.
Dad suddenly agreed for me to play basketball, and then brought Mom home after she left. Was he lovesick, bewitched, or did Mom plead with him to take her back?
A sharp ding interrupted my thoughts, and I picked up my phone to see a message from Gemma.
Gemma
Hey bestie, how's it going over there?
Zoey
Confusing.
Gemma
Whatever you do, don't come out today.
Zoey
Why? Did something happened?
Gemma
I was just passing by with my grandma lately and saw some group of people with cameras standing by the gate of your house. I think it's about your mom.
Zoey
What about her? Why are they there.
It's not like we're celebrity or something, I might be the best basketball player, but that's in highschool. I could barely stand up to those championship matches.
Gemma
The Mexican guy your mom was staying with, was a huge criminal in Louisiana, he escaped from prison two years ago.
Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as she continued reading further.
Gemma
The doctor said he had been forcing your mom to take drug that might harm her and the baby.
Zoey
How did you know all this information?
Gemma
It's on the news, Zoey. Everyone is talking about it.
Hearing that, I dropped my phone onto the bed. I couldn't believe what was happening. There were so many things in my life that I still couldn't believe had happened. Like the news displaying a video of me tripping and spraining my ankle, and a picture of Mom next to a Mexican guy I barely knew, with a headline:
‘An atrocious prisoner who escaped from prison two years ago brutally abused a woman who ran away from her husband's house and got pregnant by him.’
It was too much for me to bear. Me spraining my ankle was like a minor inconvenience compared to this. But my mom getting herself involved with a criminal was too much for me to handle.
I knew there was something off about that Mexican man when I first caught him having an affair with Mom. He always had a weird grin plastered on his face.
As I sat on my bed, deliberately thinking about the entire situation, the blood in my veins boiled with anger and confusion.
How long would I have to endure all of this?
The next day, Dad came to my room to explain the entire situation to me. I was half asleep, snuggling my pillow, when I heard his footsteps. I sat up as he took a seat next to me.
"Good morning, Dad," I greeted.
Dad chuckled at my greeting. "Morning, sweetie. How are you doing?"
"Fine," I replied, my lips curling upwards slightly. "I have a migraine from yesterday's events. Why did you bring Mom home after what she did?" I questioned, feeling disappointed.
Dad cleared his throat. "I love your mother a lot, and I know that she has hurt me in so many ways. But I've forgiven her, and you should too."
I froze, completely still, and looked straight at my father. "She left you for another man, Dad. I don't think she deserves your forgiveness."
"Sweetie, just look at this the way God wants it. No matter how bad and wrong we are, God still forgives us. He still sees the good in us despite how bad we've been. In your mom's case, she needs our forgiveness right now. She has made mistakes that she regrets."
I wasn't sure of what Dad was saying, but if that's what God wants, then I understand. But forgiving her would be one of the toughest decisions for me. I couldn't even look at her.
"I've told your coach that she has my permission for you to go back to playing basketball," Dad stated nonchalantly, changing the topic. "As long as you promise not to get hurt again."
I still felt uneasy about the entire situation regarding my mom. I faked a smile and hugged Dad. "Thanks, Dad," I whispered incredulously.
"If you work hard, you might make it to another national championship without spraining your ankle," Dad said earnestly. "You're a star, sweetie. Don't ever think I don't appreciate how amazing you are."
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