HER NOSE as she studied the medal. It wasn’t very pretty, just a silver circle with words around the outer ring and a picture of a shirtless man tied to a tree and...she squinted...were those arrows sticking out of his body?
Gross.
But it was her dad’s necklace. The one he wore to every game. The one her mom gave him. And he was here, even though she’d yelled at him and told him she didn’t want him anymore, he’d still come to her soccer game.
He hadn’t stayed away.
She glanced at the field but her coach was busy talking to one of the moms. “I’m not very good at soccer,” she told her dad, hating how stupid and inadequate she felt admitting that. “I can’t run as fast as the other kids.”
Because she was fat.
“Sometimes,” he said slowly as if searching for the right words, just like she did when she didn’t know what to say, “sometimes it’s not always about being the best at something. It’s about trying your best. Whatever that might be.” He watched her carefully. “Did you try your best during the first half?”
She hadn’t but all she did was shrug. She’d given up trying when she’d realized she’d never be as fast or as good as some of the other players.
Her dad crouched and let his hands dangle between his knees. “You know, I’ve seen mediocre athletes become stars because they give one hundred percent every time they’re on the ice. During every game they do their best, for the entire time, no matter what. And sometimes, even when we give our best, we lose. But knowing we did everything we could to win, to play our hardest, makes losing a lot easier to accept.”
Bree wasn’t sure she believed him. But when she rejoined her team and the coach told them all to hustle, she ran as fast as she could.
* * *
DURING THE SECOND HALF of the game, Bree was on fire on the field. She ran hard, tried to steal the ball and tried her best to get open for passes.
Maddie walked up to Neil. “I’m not sure whether to congratulate you or worry that you put something in her sports drink.” When he looked at her she added, “I saw you talking to Bree before the start of the second half. It’s like a miracle. Right up there with the U.S.A. beating the Russians in the Olympics.”
“Not quite that miraculous—or big of a deal. And it’s not me,” he said, nodding toward the field when Bree shot at the goal—something she hadn’t done before—and missed by a mile, but she at least tried. “It’s all Bree.”
Maddie loved her daughter but it wasn’t exactly a secret that Bree gave up on things that were hard for her. It was nice to see her putting forth some real effort. “I think you both deserve some credit.” She gave him a gentle hip nudge. “Good job, Dad.”
“You’ve done the good job,” he said, still watching the game. “You raised our daughter on your own and you did a damned good job of it.”
His compliment warmed her. “I wouldn’t say I did it on my own.”
He followed her gaze to their families and nodded. “You did it without me, then.”
Yes, she had. Hadn’t realized she’d had any other choice and maybe she hadn’t, but she had a choice now. But she knew running her decisions about Bree by him first, letting him have a say in Bree’s life, wasn’t easy.
It was almost as hard as trying to see his side of things.
But after watching her daughter’s face when Neil had talked to her during halftime and seeing her trying so hard now, sharing Bree with him would be worth it.
“She’s done a lot to help me, too,” Maddie said. “She helped me grow up. Helped me realize that there were other things more important than getting what I wanted and that my original dreams were immature and foolish.”
“The dream of being with me, you mean.”
He didn’t sound upset or angry. Just so matter-of-fact that she answered him as honestly as she could. “The dream of a fairy tale where I’d have a baby and my life would be perfect. I was sixteen. What the hell did I know about life? About love? The kind that would last forever, the kind that was strong enough to survive two different people growing up. I didn’t know how to compromise until I had her, didn’t know I could have so much