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One
“This is way too much mess for one kid and one adult who weren’t even home most of the day,” Tori muttered.
She was working her way through cleaning her kitchen and living room back up after putting Emmett, her eight-year-old son to bed for the night. It was late, and she didn’t want to, but she’d be even more mad if she had to do it in the morning.
Tori loaded the dishwasher and then started a load of laundry. Today had been rainy and of course Emmett had found a way to get drenched. She wasn’t worried about him getting sick, no, she was worried about the extra load of laundry she now had to do. He’d gone and played in the rain, not wanting to miss even a day of practice.
Soccer was his life and she was happy he was into something active and hoped it lasted. He was just starting to get into video games but always after practice. The kid was determined to play for the local FC, the Bardley Badgers when he was older.
Whenever she could afford it and they had the time she would take him to one of the games. It was great, she really enjoyed it except for the last one when a fight had broken out on the field. She hated for Emmett to see it and didn’t want him to think that was okay.
Local news had said that player would likely be suspended. It was a shame, he was one of the best strikers on the team but, he needed to calm down. Chance Lawrence was nice to look at, too.
She giggled as she thought about it. She had no business lusting after one of her son’s idols. It did, however, mean they were both interested in the same thing, just for different reasons.
Her phone ringing cut through the silence she was enjoying and she groaned as her ex’s name flashed across the screen. Whenever he called there was always bad news for her or Emmett.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Victoria,” he replied.
She hated when people used her full name. It was just another way for him to try to get under her skin. “What’s up?” She wasn’t going to take the bait.
“How is Emmett?” He always asked about him. Never listened to her response, but he went through the motions of acting like a concerned parent.
“He’s good. Got some practice in today,” Tori answered. She took a seat on her sofa and waited for him to get to the point.
“In the rain?” Isaac asked. She could just see the disgust on his face.
“What did you call for?”
“He’s going to get sick,” Isaac continued.
“It’s not raining that hard, and it’s still warm out. I wouldn’t have let him go outside if it weren’t okay. You should be happy he prefers to be an active child.”
“He needs to focus more on his schoolwork. Sports don’t last forever,” Isaac reminded her. It was the same thing he’d said at the start of every soccer season.
Tori blew out a breath and waited for what he had to say.
“I won’t be able to take Emmett this weekend. I have other plans.”
Tori rolled her eyes. She could understand if it were work, sometimes, but it would no doubt be his latest fling that wanted his attention.
“Are you coming to his game?” Tori asked, already knowing he wasn’t.
“I won’t be able to. There will be others,” he said dismissively.
“They are important to him,” Tori told him.
“He can handle if I’m not at every single game. He’s going to have to continue to learn that some things are more important.” Isaac again brushed off his son’s love for the game and the importance of supporting him.
“He’s your son,” she said without any fight. The same conversation had played out over and over.
She should record it and just put it on play for these calls, so she didn’t have to repeat herself. Or just stop arguing with him when she knew nothing was going to change.
“I’m not going to tell him the bad news again, Isaac. You can call him tomorrow when he’s still awake and not at school and tell him yourself.” She was tired of delivering the bad news to her son.
“I’ll try my best,” Isaac said.