Semua Bab Goalie: Bab 31 - Bab 40

After ten years of playing professional soccer and fifteen years of my life before that, I thought cleaning out my locker would be hard. I thought it would be full of nostalgia and memories. Of course, I also thought it would be complete with pomp and circumstance from younger players congratulating me on my retirement and a career well done.Instead, it was just me, myself, and I tossing out old deodorant, notebooks of plays that have long since been revised, and team-owned gear to be disinfected and passed on to the next guy.It's an extremely underwhelming send-off, but it's right this way. Soccer had been my obsession for the majority of my life, but somewhere along the way, it had become my downfall. For that reason alone, I don't need it to be celebrated.Just like an alcoholic doesn't have a big drinking party to celebrate sobriety, I don't want a big party celebrating my attempts at rearranging my routines and patterns.To say my coach had been shocked by my immediate resignati

"Wait." I rub my temples as I try to make sense of it all. "You're saying Santos cheated on me for all those years because he might have a medical condition that exacerbates his stupid superstitions?""In a very basic nutshell, yes."I stare at him, mouth open. I want to hear what Justin is saying and having it all make sense… make it all this easy. Instead, it makes me mad. "I call bullshit.""Why?""Why?" I laugh, humorlessly. "Because we were married for ten years. He could have easily come home and gotten his 'medical condition,"' I sarcastically use air quotes, "… under control with me. But he didn't. He chose to go out and bang any groupie who was willing to spread her legs for him. No way. He made a choice. Every time.""I agree with you.""Good. Because there is no way I'm accepting that as an excuse." "I'm not asking you to. And I'm not making excuses for him. Regardless of how difficult the situation was, he had choices and he knew what he was doing."I nod and feel my anger

I'm immediately on guard, wondering what has her so upset. Mari, however, stays calm. "Theo pooped mom! He pooped! And it stinks! You need to change him," she demands."Why don't you change him?" she teases back.Myra crinkles up her little nose in disgust. "Ew, Mom. I don't know how to change a diaper.""Hmm. Maybe it's time you learned how," Mari suggests."Mooom. Come on," Myra pleads, the previous topic no longer up for discussion."I'll go," I say, rising to my feet. "If I don't get away from this computer for a little bit, I just may launch it across the room.""Thank you. He poops so much, my nose can no longer tell the difference between the smell of poop and baby wipes.""He got his constitution from his daddy!" I pat my belly and give her a big ornery grin."Yes, he does. Also, I can't believe you just said that, weirdo. His diapers should be in the diaper holder next to the bed. If it's empty, check under his crib."I walk by the girls' room and see Theo standing with his ha

"Uncle Marcus, Uncle Marcus!"I smile when I hear the girls racing to greet him and Theo finally catching up yelling what sounds like "Unca-Muck". I gave Marcus the apartment key for emergencies. Apparently babysitting so I can go out is an emergency.But it keeps me from having to go to the door in my robe, so I have no reason to complain.Slowly, so I don't accidentally poke myself in the eye, I swipe mascara over my top lashes. It takes a few minutes to make sure I get all the lashes. Those little ones on the side like to play hard to get.Finally, I stand back and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad. I'm not used to wearing so much make-up so the smoky-eye effect needs a little work, but overall I think I did a pretty good job. The lady at Ulta who did my makeover would be pleased.A low whistle comes from the doorway where Marcus is leaning, arms crossed. "Look at you all gussied up. Your make-up looks amazing.""So I did it right?""Yep. You're getting a lot better at putting i

Racing through the parking lot, I dodge as many puddles as I can. I swear it started raining a month ago and hasn't let up. Even worse, it's muggy. Really muggy. But that's what early June in Houston is like every year. At least the rain is keeping the bugs away for now."Shit," I yell as I accidentally land right in a puddle. I look up and see Mari's elderly neighbors staring at me and my filthy mouth. "Sorry. I landed in a puddle."The old man doesn't seem amused but the woman, I can tell she's trying not to grin.Reaching Mari's door, I bang as quickly as I can. It's only eight in the morning, but we've spent a lot of time together over the last couple of months. I know their routine pretty well again, and I'm sure the kids are up by now. When the door opens revealing Mari still in her jammies, coffee cup in hand, my suspicions are confirmed."Sorry!" I whiz past her and into the living room where the kids are already playing. "I left my schedule here and couldn't find the website t