Curvy Girls Can’t Date Soldiers by Kelsie Stelting

Forty-Nine

Nadira

I stoodin front of my mirror, taking in my typical game-day outfit. I wore a dress-length Brentwood University jersey with the name HARRIS and the number 00 printed on the back, along with a pair of leggings. It was so comfortable, I couldn’t wait to get to MIT, where I could forego wearing a blazer and pantyhose every single day.

A knock sounded on my door, and I glanced to the crack to see Mom stepping in. She wore a similar outfit, except she had on dark jeans and a button-up shirt under her jersey. It was like dressing professionally was a part of her DNA.

She took me in with surprise. “Hey, I wasn’t sure if you’d be coming today.”

“Why wouldn’t I? We go to all Dad’s home games,” I said simply, but an edge of bitterness crept into my voice.

“You’re right,” Mom said. “Families are supposed to be there for each other. No matter what, no matter when.”

I watched her, curiously, as she moved to sit on my bed.

“Will you sit with me for a moment?” she asked.

Reluctantly, I walked to the opposite side of the bed and sat. I didn’t understand what she was doing here—what she could possibly have to say.

“What you said last week really threw me for a loop,” she began. “I’ve been a feminist all my life, and I love my career and my students—you know I do—but I’ve been letting a lot of balls drop at home that never even should have come close to the floor.”

My heart stalled, aching to believe what she was hinting at.

“The reason your dad and I go to your brothers’ games in the evenings isn’t because we care about them more than you. It’s because we’re free and we can, so there’s no reason we shouldn’t. But Mathletes happens during business hours, so we let it slide. It was never about you or how much you matter to us.” She scooted a little closer on the bed, placing her hand atop mine.

I didn’t move my fingers to grip her hand back, but I didn’t shy away either.

“But that’s not what you saw,” she said with a sigh and shook her head. “All these years, we’ve gone to a meet here or there as we could get away. Why didn’t you tell us it was eating you up inside?”

The curiosity in her voice hurt almost as much as the fact that I’d kept all that hurt to myself. Why hadn’t I told them that I really wanted them there? “Maybe... Maybe I was afraid if I told you and then you didn’t come that it would feel like an even bigger rejection. And I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.”

Mom’s forehead creased. “Honey. We want to be there for you whenever we can and however we can. I know it will look different now that MIT’s just a few months away, but Daddy and I love you.” She brushed back a flyaway hair on my head. “And to be honest, I don’t get the boys like your dad does. We girls have to stick together.”

The corner of my lips lifted as my eyes burned. I’d always wanted to have a close relationship with my mom, but I never felt good enough for her before. Now, we were running out of time. I’d messed up so many things.

“Did I ever tell you how your father and I met?” she asked, taking me off guard.

I hadn’t expected her to bring it up, but I remembered the story. “Dad was on the basketball team, and you were his math tutor.”

She nodded. “He was the most pigheaded person I’d ever met. So full of himself. And God forbid he ever walked a piece of paper to the trash can. No, every piece had to become a basketball.”

The thought made me laugh. I’d seen him do it about a million times by now. “Not much has changed, huh?”

“Nope,” she said, chuckling. “But I didn’t tell you the part about how I almost ruined it all.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. As far as I knew, Dad proposed after college, and the rest was history.

“A few months before graduation, I got offered a great job at a college in Kentucky. Well, your father got recruited to play for an international team in Latvia. But he said he wouldn’t take it if I wanted to marry him. He’d follow me wherever I went and coach at the YMCA if he had to.” She shook her head. “I knew how passionate he felt about basketball, and what an incredible opportunity it would be for him to see the world. So of course, I told him I didn’t love him and that he should go. I couldn’t stand the idea of love coming before a job.”

My eyebrows drew together. “You never told me about that...”

“It was the longest year of my life, being away from him. Because I couldn’t tell him how I felt.” She pressed her lips together and let them loose, then turned to look at me. “Instead of letting him decide what he wanted from his future, I lied to him, Nadira, and that lie changed the course of his life. Our lives.”

My heart sank at the three-letter word. “What did you do?” I asked, desperate for a cure for the mess I was in.

“I quit my job,” she said. “And I spent all my money on a plane ticket, and I flew to Latvia with just what I could carry.”

My eyes widened. Of all the things I’d expected my mother to say, that was the very last. “You quit your job for a guy?”

She nodded. “I did. But when I got there, he was still upset with me. He said if I wanted to be with him, I needed to do better than show up unannounced and ask him back.”

My mouth fell open. “What?” My brain was spinning with all the information.

“Mhmm.” With a shake of her head, she said, “I was so stubborn, I said, ‘That’s fine. I have three months on my travel visa, and I’ll go to all of your games until you realize I’m the one you’re supposed to be with.’”

“You’re kidding,” I said, already knowing she wasn’t. My mother didn’t give up on the things that mattered to her.

“I went to every single game. I rode busses, hitchhiked, took taxis. At the end of every game, I would tell him good job, he’d say thank you, and his coach would have him get on the bus. And even though he never told me he wanted me back, he didn’t ask me to leave either.”

“I can’t believe you flew all that way and he didn’t forgive you,” I said, imagining her following him around the country with a broken heart and a spark of hope.

She nodded slowly. “Well, it was the day before my visa expired, and he still hadn’t said he was ready to come home. So I thought I’d make it to one last game. I decided I’d given it my all, and if he didn’t come around, then maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”

My heart hurt thinking of Mom following Dad around a foreign country. Of the pain he must have had to be rejected by her.

“So after the game, I didn’t even wait. I watched him play, thinking it might very well be the last time I ever saw him again. And then I left.”

My eyes flew open. “You left!”

She nodded, but then a sly smile grew on her face. “And he came after me. Slid into the cab seat beside me and said, ‘I’ll make you a deal.’ Of course I was pissed. I’d followed this man around the damn country, and he was trying to make deals with me? I let him know how mad I was about it, but then he said, ‘I don’t want to leave Latvia without a wife. And I want her to be you.’”

My jaw went slack. “What?”

She nodded. “So we went to a chapel nearby and had a ceremony. A couple of his teammates came. I was wearing a sundress, and he had on a suit he wore traveling between games.”

“But you guys got married in Albany. In Grandma and Grandpa’s backyard.” That photo smiled at us from the mantle every day.

“We had a wedding in Albany,” she said, reaching for her phone. “But we got married in Latvia.” She swiped to her album. She’d taken a picture of her and Dad. Just as promised, she wore a blue sundress; Dad had on a black suit with a red tie. They smiled at each other outside of a restaurant I couldn’t read the words on, holding their hands toward the camera, showing the wedding bands I saw every day.

My lips parted. “You got married in Latvia.”

She nodded, pulling the phone away.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

She smiled, putting her arms around me. “Because you know better than anyone how much telling a lie can hurt. But I want you to know that making it right can lead you to the most beautiful adventure of a lifetime.”