* * *
The Stop Being a Loser Plan was beginning to take shape when Cee-Cee and Joey returned:
Do more research on how not to be a loser
Stop being a loser
Open front door
Walk/crawl/wriggle on belly out front door
Go somewhere
Don’t die
Come back
Repeat
I quickly slid my journal into a desk drawer as they entered the kitchen and tried to find a neutral expression to hide how the effort taken to formulate the plan had reduced me to a pile of jitters.
‘That was quick,’ I said. ‘How’d it go?’
‘Fine.’ Cee-Cee handed me a few sheets of paper. ‘It’s all here.’
‘Great. I’ll look this over with Joey later.’When you’re not here, so it doesn’t hurt quite so much that you took my place yet again.
‘There’s more. Joey – you’ve got maths questions to finish.’
We took a seat in the living room, Joey suspiciously willing to complete his first homework of the new school year. Cee-Cee took her time, making sure her mug was exactly in the centre of its coaster, adjusting her arthritic knee, fussing about with cushions. An ungenerous thought popped into my head, wondering if this was on purpose, if Cee-Cee was enjoying making me wait. Perhaps she was still annoyed by my comments earlier. Maybe she had sensed a change in my energy this evening, that I was on the brink of something. After all, Cee-Cee knew me better than anyone.Or maybe she’s just nervous,I scolded.Maybe it’s bad news. Joey could be in a whole heap of trouble for all you know.
‘I had a call from an old colleague.’
‘Okay.’ A tiny warning buzzer sounded in my brain.
‘He saw Joey at the meet last week. He was impressed.’
‘Well, he’s pretty impressive.’
The buzzing grew louder.
‘He’s been invited to try for the Gladiators.’
The buzzer upgraded to a furious siren now, drowning out all rational thought.
‘What? No! You know I don’t want him competing at that level.’ I sat back, folding my arms tight against my chest. This was not open for discussion.
‘They wouldn’t ask if he didn’t have potential.’
‘You mean the potential to spend years sacrificing his whole life on the altar of swimming, only to realise that he’s one-hundredth of a second too slow for it to count for anything other than a part-time job as a lifeguard?’ I snapped, voice bitter.
‘Why not let the Gladiators coach decide if he’s good enough?’ Cee-Cee’s weathered face was a granite cliff.
‘Because the coach won’t factor in the cost to Joey! You know how I feel about this! Why are we even having this conversation again?’ I banged my mug down on the coffee table.
‘Don’t punish him for your mistakes.’ Her mouth turned down in disapproval.
‘That is not what I’m doing! And I don’t have to explain myself to you. If Joey wants to try out for a different club, he can talk to me about it.I’mhis mother.’ Later on I might stew about what Cee-Cee considered to be my mistakes. Right now I was too busy seething in a cauldron of fear, pain and resentment.
