“Uh, Christian this is my friend Joel.”

He tilts his head up to really take me in.

“What’s up, little man?” I put my fist out and he studies it warily before bumping his little fist to mine.

“What’s for snacks?” One of the kids calls out and that gets all their attention. Eager hands reach out and push past us.

I follow Katrina’s lead and we move to the other side of the table and help kids fill plates with snacks. For ten minutes we work in silence helping kids, filling plates, cleaning messes, re-filling plates after half the kids spill their food on the ground. I’m damn near breaking a sweat when the coach blows the whistle and the kids take off back to the field.

We toss the trash and Katrina finally breaks the silence. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“I was on my way to the store anyway.” I glance over at the other women who are back to scrutinizing our every move. “They always like that?”

She shrugs. “I don’t really fit in with the other moms.”

I can tell by her tone that she thinks this is somehow her fault.

“Christian looks just like you.” I turn to watch the action on the field. What a hot mess. There’s no way to tell who is on offense or defense, it’s just a mass of small bodies running around the ball. “Those your mad soccer skills on display out there too?”

Christian breaks out in front of the pack and kicks the ball toward the net. It doesn’t quite make it, but he’s undeterred and keeps rushing forward, into the goalie box to kick the ball again. He raises his arms in victory and looks to his mom. The smile on her face is proud and she jumps and claps like he just won gold at the Olympics.

“I should go.”

After she’s done cheering, she turns to me. “You really didn’t have to do this. Practice is only an hour long it’s not like they were going to starve,” she says in annoyance and I admire that she’s not bending to fit with the other mom’s expectations.

“Kitty?”

“Hmmm?”

I lean down, my lips brush her ear. “Just say thank you.”

15

KATRINA

I’ve got his coffee ready and two cinnamon muffins in a to-go bag when Joel walks up to the café.

“Morning, Kitty.”

I slide the bag and coffee in his direction. “Thank you.”

A smile pulls at his lips. “You’re welcome. How’s our soccer star?”

My heart flutters at the way he says our, but he seems completely unaware that he’s done it and I’m not about to make a big deal out of it. I know he didn’t mean it in the way it sounded, but it feels good to talk about Christian with someone like he belongs to both of us. I’ve gone it alone so much that I’d forgotten how great it is to be part of a team. Having Joel show up for me reminded me that I need to let more people in. Not everyone is going to let me down.