Law #3: Don't Fall for the Athlete: Sweet Second Chance Romance (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (black books to read txt) 📗

good heart, and she believes firmly in the Bible. That’s why she’s so ready to forgive my father.

The only one to blame is me.

I’d been too stubborn, or perhaps even ashamed, to admit that my father could still trigger such a bitter emotion in me, but clearly, he’s still able to do that.

You’re obviously very angry at someone. 

These were Ellie’s words during our role play, and she’d been right.

Didn’t I just shout a hurtful phrase at my mother because she admitted that she spoke to Dad? Didn’t I punch Rodriguez because he made a joke about my father?

Frustration seeps into my bones, but this time it’s directed only at myself.

I should’ve answered the darned phone the first time my father called and unleashed my resentment on him. Maybe then he would’ve never dared to go as far as disturbing my mother, and I’d never have given a five to my teammate’s kisser, no matter how snarky he got with me.

As these sobering thoughts flash through me, I realize I’ve just made a breakthrough in my therapy. I associated my random act of violence toward my teammate with its proper cause—my father.

What would Ellie think about this?

Her memory makes me recall the delicious coconut and orange blossom scent that surrounds her all the time. This sensory detail tames the raw emotion bubbling in my chest, and my heartbeats become more even.

“Mom, I’m sorry for my harsh words and my commanding tone,” I say. “I don’t want you to get sucked back into that nightmare again.”

She sniffs. “I know, son. I won’t.”

“Good,” I murmur, but the guilt of having chided my mother still courses through me. To soothe it, I say, “You know what? I’ll come visit you earlier than we planned. It’s not possible this weekend, because our running back, Joe, is arriving in Phoenix tonight. He’s only staying for two days, though, so I could drive up to Kingman on Monday.”

It’d mean skipping a session with Ellie, but I want to look into my mother’s eyes when she promises she won’t pick up any future calls from Dad. I’ll need to convince Ellie not to record our missing meeting in my report, otherwise my required therapy hours might not add up. Would Ellie do that for me?

Perhaps she will if I explain to her what I’ve just realized about my father.

While I’m thinking about this, Mom says, “Monday? That’s…that’s not so good. I have…an appointment at the doctor’s in the afternoon. For my ankle.”

My brows crease. “What happened to your ankle?”

“Nothing serious. I slipped on the church steps. It’s just a sprain, but to be sure, I’ll get Dr. Murrow to look at it.”

“All the more reason for me to come,” I say. “I can take you to your appointment. You can’t possibly drive with a twisted ankle.”

“No, no. His office is always full. You’d get bored waiting for me. Also, I’ve already asked Wendy to accompany me. Why don’t you come next weekend as we planned?”

“Okay, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Yes.” Mom exhales as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. “That would be much better.”

Mom and I say goodbye, and I lower the phone. I stick it back into my pocket while blowing the air out of my cheeks.

If I don’t see Mom for an entire week, I’ll need to make sure she’s safe from Dad. Tomorrow I’ll contact my father and let him know that he should leave my mother alone. Yeah, I’ll do that.

My eyes drift to the ice cream parlor.

But for tonight, I’ll forget all about his lousy existence.

I head back to Daisy’s Creamery. The bell on the door jingles as I push it open and the sugary scent of fresh waffle cones fills my nostrils.

A girl with astonishingly large fake eyelashes stands behind the counter. She’s pinned her black curls so she resembles the Betty Boop poster hanging on the wall behind her.

I step over to the glass case with over thirty ice cream buckets and scan the flavors.

“Do you need any advice?” the server asks. She studies me from head-to-toe, pursing her lips slightly provocatively. “I’d love to give you a hand.”

“No thanks, I already know what I want. Only I can’t find it here.”

“What’s your poison, love?” she purrs.

“Sweet avocado cayenne. It used to be a staple of this place years ago. Do you still make it?”

The waitress’s face falls. “I’m sorry, love, but I can’t help you with that. There’s only one scoop left, so I took the bucket to the kitchen an hour ago.”

I grin at her in my most charming way. “Well, I wanted at least three scoops, but I’ll be okay with less.”

She shakes her head. “No can do. It’s for a regular client who comes every Friday at seven-thirty sharp.”

I glance at my watch, then wave my hand toward the empty store. “Well, it’s past forty-two so—”

The door chimes.

The waitress blinks up and smiles. “You’re late, honey.”

“I know, Monica, I’m sorry—”

A familiar soprano chirps, and my heart stutters.

I should have known…

The shuffling of Ellie’s shoes moves closer while she continues to explain herself. “—Hope and Cora couldn’t make it, and since I was alone, I stopped to enjoy the sunset.”

The waitress points at me. “If you’d come even a minute later, I might not have resisted this handsome gentleman’s dimples and sold him your ice cream. He’s a sucker for that flavor, too. Today was crazy, so I only have a scoop left, and it’s for you, of course.”

Ellie is so close I feel her body heat roll in waves toward me. That or my senses are truly heightened through all the mindfulness therapy we’ve been doing.

She didn’t recognize me from behind, probably because of my baseball cap, but she’s bound to realize it’s me soon. I prefer to anticipate her, so I take off my hat and turn. “Hi, Ellie.”

She jumps, and her hand flies to her chest. “Wyatt?”

“Yeah. I was at your brother’s, and on my way home, I remembered this ice cream parlor. I decided to check whether