Chapter 753: 716. Mom Birthday
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(A/N: Also everyone I have a new novel named “From Couch To The Inquisitor”, be sure to check it out and give some power stone)
…
Ahead of them waited the dressing room, the recovery routine, the journey back, and eventually the next chapter of a season that seemed to move faster with every passing week.
Then the morning after Lyon arrived without any of the ceremony that had surrounded the previous night.
There were no stadium lights.
No Champions League anthem.
No travelling supporters singing from behind the goal.
Just grey morning light filtering through the windows of the Arsenal training ground as the players gradually returned to London Colney.
The 2–0 victory had been important, but the squad already understood the routine. Recovery came first.
Francesco arrived with the rest of the group and went through the early recovery work with the medical and fitness staff. Stretching, mobility, light cycling, treatment and hydration replaced the intensity of a normal training session.
His legs were tired, though not excessively so.
The Lyon match had demanded concentration more than desperation, and Arsenal’s control of the second half had helped.
Still, European football had a way of staying in the body the following morning.
Francesco finished his recovery work and changed before heading toward Wenger’s office.
He knocked lightly.
“Come in.”
Wenger was standing behind his desk, going through the day’s schedule.
Francesco stepped inside.
“Morning, boss.”
“Morning, Francesco.”
The manager looked up.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good. A little tired, but good.”
Wenger nodded.
“That is what I expected.”
Francesco hesitated for a moment.
“There is something I wanted to ask.”
Wenger put the papers down.
“Go ahead.”
“My mum’s birthday is today.”
Wenger’s expression softened immediately.
“Sarah?”
Francesco nodded.
“I’d like to spend the day with her and my family, if that’s okay. I know we’ve just come back from Lyon, but it’s important to me.”
Wenger leaned back slightly.
“Of course.”
Francesco smiled.
“Thank you.”
“You’ve played a lot of football,” Wenger continued. “Take the day. Recover properly. Eat well, rest, and don’t turn your day off into another training session.”
Francesco laughed.
“I won’t.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
Wenger picked up the schedule again.
“Be ready for the next session. That’s all I ask.”
“You’ve got it.”
Francesco shook his hand.
“Thank you, Arsène.”
“Happy birthday to your mother.”
Francesco smiled.
“I’ll tell her.”
He left the office feeling lighter.
For once, there was no tactical meeting waiting for him.
No analysis of an opponent.
No discussion about pressing structures or defensive transitions.
His next responsibility was simply to be a son.
By the time Francesco returned home, the mansion had taken on a completely different atmosphere from the one it usually carried after a European match.
Leah was already there.
She was in the kitchen when he walked through the door, dressed casually and holding a mug in one hand.
“You’re back early.”
“Wenger gave me the day.”
Leah smiled.
“Because of your mum?”
“Yeah.”
“That was nice of him.”
Francesco dropped his keys into the bowl near the entrance.
“I asked.”
“Even better.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I’m allowed to smile.”
Francesco walked over and kissed her briefly on the cheek.
“What are we doing today?”
“Your mother’s birthday.”
“Right.”
“So we’re going to your parents’ house.”
He nodded.
Then he stopped.
Leah noticed immediately.
“What?”
“I haven’t got her present.”
Leah stared at him.
“Francesco.”
“I know.”
“You had one job.”
“I was playing Lyon last night.”
“You knew her birthday was today.”
“I know.”
Leah laughed.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“Shopping.”
Francesco sighed dramatically.
“I just escaped football.”
“And now I’m making you go to a jewelry store.”
“That sounds worse.”
“It isn’t.”
He smiled.
“Fine.”
They left Richmond later that morning.
The drive was relaxed.
There was no team bus, no staff schedule and no security detail directing every movement. Francesco drove himself, while Leah sat beside him, occasionally checking her phone.
Traffic was manageable.
London moved around them in its usual way—buses stopping, pedestrians crossing, people heading toward shops and offices, cyclists weaving carefully between cars.
For once, Francesco was simply another driver.
Leah glanced at him.
“You’re thinking too hard.”
“About what?”
“The present.”
“I want to get something she’ll actually like.”
“She’ll like whatever you give her.”
“That isn’t the point.”
Leah smiled.
“You’re right.”
They eventually stopped outside a jewelry store.
Inside, the atmosphere was quiet and polished.
Glass cabinets displayed watches, bracelets, necklaces and rings beneath carefully positioned lights.
A member of staff greeted them warmly.
“Can I help you find something?”
“It’s my mother’s birthday,” Francesco explained. “I’m looking for something for her.”
“Of course.”
They began looking.
Francesco did not immediately choose anything.
He examined several bracelets, lifting each one carefully before putting it back.
Leah stood beside him.
“What do you think?”
“That one’s nice.”
He looked at it.
“Too simple?”
“Maybe.”
He moved to another display.
“This?”
Leah considered it.
“She’d wear that.”
Francesco smiled.
“That’s what I want.”
They continued.
Eventually, he found a bracelet that felt right.
It was elegant without being excessive.
Something Sarah could wear with ordinary clothes or on a special occasion.
Francesco held it for a moment.
“This.”
Leah nodded.
“Definitely.”
He then looked toward the necklace display.
“What about something to go with it?”
Leah looked at him.
“Are you buying two?”
“She gave birth to me.”
“That is a strong argument.”
Francesco laughed.
He examined several necklaces before finding one that complemented the bracelet without looking like a matching set chosen simply for the sake of it.
Leah leaned closer.
“I like that one.”
“So do I.”
The staff member prepared both pieces carefully.
Francesco paid, then made sure the boxes were placed securely into a small gift bag.
He carried them himself.
On the way back to the car, Leah looked at the bag.
“She has no idea.”
“Good.”
“You’re going to make her cry.”
“I hope not.”
“She probably will.”
Francesco smiled.
“Then you can deal with it.”
“Me?”
“You’ll be there.”
“Absolutely not.”
He laughed.
The journey toward his parents’ house was quieter.
The shopping bag rested safely between them.
Francesco occasionally glanced at it as though checking that it was still there.
Leah noticed.
“Stop checking.”
“I’m making sure it’s safe.”
“It’s a bracelet and necklace, not a Champions League trophy.”
“Still.”
She smiled.
“Do you think everyone will be there?”
“Probably.”
“Your aunts?”
“Some of them.”
“Uncles?”
“Almost certainly.”
“Friends of your parents?”
“My mum knows half the neighbourhood.”
Leah laughed.
“Then we should probably prepare ourselves.”
“For what?”
“Being introduced to everyone at least twice.”
“That sounds about right.”
Francesco shook his head fondly.
His parents had always been good at making people feel welcome.
Birthdays were rarely quiet affairs.
Sarah liked having people around her.
Mike was no different.
And whenever the two of them hosted something, the house seemed to expand to accommodate whoever had arrived.
As they turned onto the familiar road, Francesco’s expression softened.
He knew these streets.
He knew the route almost instinctively.
There were places he remembered from childhood.
The corner shop.
The old park.
The road where he had once ridden a bicycle until Mike had shouted at him to slow down.
The memories came without effort.
Leah noticed his expression.
“You’re thinking about when you were younger.”
“Yeah.”
“Anything embarrassing?”
“Plenty.”
“Good.”
Francesco smiled.
“You’ll hear about those eventually.”
“I look forward to it.”
They pulled up outside the house.
Before Francesco had even switched off the engine, he could see signs that the gathering had already begun.
Several cars were parked nearby.
Voices carried faintly from inside.
Someone laughed loudly.
Another voice called something that Francesco couldn’t quite make out.
He looked at Leah.
“Told you.”
She smiled.
“I think your mum has half the family here.”
“Probably more.”
Francesco switched off the engine.
They got out.
He retrieved the gift bag carefully from the car.
Leah adjusted her coat and walked beside him.
As they approached the front door, Francesco could already hear conversation through the glass.
A burst of laughter.
Someone calling Sarah’s name.
The scrape of a chair.
He smiled.
Leah looked at him.
“Nervous?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe a little.”
He reached the door.
The gift bag remained in his hand, positioned behind his leg so that it would not immediately attract attention.
He looked at Leah.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
“Ready.”
Francesco pressed the doorbell.
The sound travelled through the house.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then footsteps.
Several voices.
Someone laughed.
The lock turned.
The door opened.
And Francesco immediately realized that Leah had underestimated the size of the gathering.
So had he.
Sarah stood there.
Her expression changed instantly.
For a second, she simply stared.
Then her face lit up.
“Francesco!”
She stepped forward and hugged her son tightly.
Francesco laughed as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Happy birthday, Mum.”
Sarah held him for another moment.
“You came.”
“Of course I came.”
She pulled back and looked at him.
“You had a match.”
“Yesterday.”
“You should be resting.”
“I am resting.”
Sarah glanced toward the house.
“Then come inside.”
Francesco smiled.
Mike appeared behind her.
“There he is.”
Francesco shook his father’s hand before Mike pulled him into a hug.
“Good to see you, Dad.”
“You too.”
Mike looked toward Leah.
“And you.”
Leah smiled.
“Happy birthday, Sarah.”
Sarah immediately embraced her.
“Thank you, darling.”
Behind them, the house was alive.
Francesco looked past his mother.
The living room was full.
One of Sarah’s close friends was sitting near the fireplace, already holding a cup of tea and laughing with another guest.
Mike’s friends had taken over part of the dining room.
An uncle Francesco had not seen for several weeks stood near the kitchen and raised both hands when he noticed him.
“There he is!”
Francesco laughed.
“Hello.”
“Come here.”
Another hug followed.
An aunt appeared moments later.
“You’ve grown.”
Francesco looked at her.
“I’ve been the same height for years.”
She waved him off.
“You know what I mean.”
Leah laughed beside him.
Someone else called her name.
“Leah!”
She turned and was greeted by another member of the family.
Within seconds, the doorway had become a small traffic jam of greetings.
Hands were shaken.
Cheeks were kissed.
Questions were asked.
How was Lyon?
How was the trip?
Was the flight tiring?
How was Sarah’s birthday going?
Had they eaten?
The last question came from Sarah.
“You two haven’t eaten, have you?”
Francesco looked at Leah.
Leah looked at Francesco.
Sarah immediately knew the answer.
“I knew it.”
Mike laughed.
“She’s been waiting for you.”
Francesco smiled.
“We’ll eat.”
“You’d better.”
Sarah then noticed the small gift bag behind Francesco’s leg.
Her eyes narrowed.
“What are you hiding?”
Francesco moved it slightly behind him.
“Nothing.”
Sarah laughed.
“Francesco.”
Leah covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Mike looked between them.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Francesco repeated.
Sarah pointed at him.
“I know you.”
Francesco smiled.
“You’ll have to wait.”
She shook her head, amused.
“All right.”
The attention moved elsewhere as another guest called Sarah over.
Francesco quietly handed the gift bag to Leah.
“Keep this.”
She accepted it carefully.
“Secret?”
“Secret.”
Leah nodded.
“Got it.”
Francesco turned back toward the room.
For the first time since entering, he allowed himself to simply stand there.
He could hear his mother’s laughter.
His father’s voice.
His relatives talking over one another.
Someone was already arguing playfully about the food.
Someone else was telling a story from years ago.
A child ran through the hallway before being called back.
It was messy.
Warm.
Familiar.
And it had nothing to do with football.
Nobody here needed Francesco to score.
Nobody cared about his tactical role from the previous night.
Nobody wanted to discuss the way he had moved between Lyon’s defenders or how Arsenal had managed the second half.
He was simply Sarah and Mike’s son.
The boy who had grown up in this house.
The son who still remembered where everything used to be.
The man who had come home for his mother’s birthday.
Sarah called him from across the room.
“Francesco!”
He looked over.
“Yes?”
“Come and meet everyone properly.”
He laughed.
“I’ve met half of them.”
“You haven’t met everyone.”
Mike shook his head.
“She’ll keep you here all afternoon.”
Sarah smiled.
“That’s the idea.”
Leah slipped her arm gently around Francesco’s.
He looked at her.
She smiled.
“Go on.”
Together, they stepped farther into the house.
The door closed behind them.
The noise of the gathering surrounded them almost immediately with laughter from the living room, conversations overlapping in the dining area, Sarah calling to someone in the kitchen, Mike greeting another old friend, and relatives making room for Francesco and Leah as they moved deeper into the celebration.
The jewelry remained hidden.
The birthday surprise was still waiting.
And for the rest of the day, there was no stadium, no scoreboard and no Champions League pressure waiting for him.
There was only family.
Francesco smiled as his mother reached for his hand and pulled him toward the crowded living room.
“Come on,” Sarah said. “Your birthday present isn’t going to open itself.”
Francesco laughed.
“It’s your birthday, Mum.”
“I know.”
She squeezed his hand.
“That’s why you’re staying close to me today.”
He followed her willingly.
Leah walked beside them.
Then Francesco followed his mother into the living room, with Leah walking beside him.
The room was already full enough that finding somewhere to stand without being in somebody’s way required a little negotiation.
Sarah seemed perfectly comfortable with it.
She moved from one conversation to another, greeting people she had known for years, accepting birthday wishes, laughing at stories she had probably heard several times before but still found funny.
Francesco stayed close.
Every few minutes someone caught his attention.
An older family friend reached out and shook his hand.
“So, young man, we hear you were playing football last night.”
Francesco smiled.
“A little.”
“A little?” the man repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Your father says you scored.”
Mike called from across the room.
“I never said he scored. I said he played.”
The room broke into laughter.
Francesco looked at his father.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“It’s your mother’s birthday. I’m allowed.”
Sarah pointed toward Mike.
“Don’t encourage him.”
Leah laughed beside Francesco.
The conversations continued naturally.
There was no clear division between Sarah’s friends and Mike’s friends, relatives and people who had known the family for years. Everyone seemed to know somebody else in the room.
Francesco helped Sarah move through the crowd whenever she became caught between conversations.
He introduced Leah to a few people she had not met before, while Leah quickly settled into the rhythm of the gathering.
One of Sarah’s friends asked Leah about her own football.
“So you’re still playing?”
Leah smiled.
“Yes.”
“And you’re defending?”
“Usually.”
Sarah immediately joined the conversation.
“She is very good.”
Leah looked at her.
“You’re biased.”
“I am your future mother-in-law. I’m allowed to be.”
Francesco nearly choked on his drink.
Leah’s face turned slightly pink.
Mike laughed from nearby.
“There we go.”
Sarah looked entirely pleased with herself.
“I only said future.”
“Mum.”
“What?”
Francesco shook his head, smiling.
The teasing moved on before either of them had to answer.
Food had already been laid across the dining table.
There were sandwiches, small pastries, salads, bowls of crisps, several plates of warm food and enough desserts to make it clear that Sarah had expected a much larger gathering than the house could reasonably accommodate.
Francesco picked up a plate.
“You made all of this?”
Sarah looked offended.
“Some of it.”
Mike immediately corrected her.
“Most of it was delivered.”
Sarah turned toward him.
“Whose side are you on?”
“The truth’s side.”
Another round of laughter followed.
Francesco carried several plates toward the living room.
Leah followed with glasses.
For a while, there was no distinction between guests and hosts.
People helped themselves.
Someone moved a chair.
Another person found more drinks.
An uncle began telling a story about Francesco as a child, and Sarah immediately warned him not to embarrass her son.
That only made everyone more interested.
“Go on,” Mike said.
Francesco pointed at his father.
“You’re supposed to protect me.”
“I’ve been waiting years for this opportunity.”
The story eventually came out.
Francesco had apparently tried to imitate one of his father’s old football moves in the garden, lost his balance and fallen directly into a flower bed.
“I was six,” Francesco protested.
“You were seven,” Sarah corrected.
“You remember that?”
“I remember everything.”
Leah was laughing so hard she had to put her glass down.
“You’re never letting him forget that, are you?”
“Absolutely not.”
Francesco looked around the room.
“I came here to celebrate her birthday.”
“And you’re celebrating,” Mike said.
“Apparently at my expense.”
Sarah reached over and squeezed his arm.
“You’ll survive.”
He smiled.
That was the thing about being back here.
The teasing felt different from the jokes inside a dressing room.
There was history behind it.
Every story had a person attached to it, and every person seemed to remember a different version of the same family memories.
Time passed without anyone keeping track of it.
Sarah sat for a while with her friends.
Mike became involved in a long conversation near the dining table.
Francesco moved between groups, occasionally sitting beside his mother, occasionally helping someone find something in the kitchen.
Leah stayed close without needing to be beside him every second.
At one point she found herself talking with two of Sarah’s friends about travelling, while Francesco stood several feet away listening to his uncle describe a holiday from years earlier.
He glanced across the room.
Leah caught his eye.
She smiled.
He smiled back.
Neither needed to say anything.
They were both comfortable.
Eventually, one of Sarah’s friends disappeared into the kitchen.
A few moments later, she returned carrying a large cake.
The room slowly noticed.
Conversation faded into scattered whispers.
Mike stood up.
“All right, everyone.”
Sarah looked toward him.
“What have you done?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“Probably.”
The cake was placed carefully on the table.
It was decorated simply, with Sarah’s name written across the top.
Someone began arranging candles.
Francesco moved closer to his mother.
Leah stood beside him.
Sarah looked around the room.
“You didn’t need to do all this.”
Mike smiled.
“Yes, we did.”
The candles were lit.
One by one, small flames appeared across the cake.
Everyone gathered closer.
Somebody turned down the music.
Another person called for those in the kitchen to come through.
Within moments, the room was filled.
Sarah stood in the middle.
Francesco was beside her.
Leah stood just behind his shoulder.
Mike moved closer.
Then everyone began singing.
The voices were imperfect.
Some people were too loud.
Others came in slightly late.
One of Francesco’s uncles deliberately sang the final line with exaggerated enthusiasm, drawing laughter from the room.
Sarah laughed throughout most of it.
When the song ended, she looked around at everyone.
Her expression softened.
She seemed to take a moment to absorb the scene.
All the people she cared about were standing around her.
Friends.
Family.
Her husband.
Her son.
Leah.
Sarah closed her eyes and blew out the candles.
The room immediately filled with applause.
Someone cheered.
Mike kissed her cheek.
“Happy birthday.”
Sarah laughed.
“Thank you.”
Francesco hugged her from the side.
“Happy birthday, Mum.”
She rested her head briefly against him.
“Thank you for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
The cake was cut.
Pieces were passed around.
People returned to their seats, and the room settled back into conversation.
Then Sarah began receiving presents.
There were flowers.
A bottle of wine from one of Mike’s friends.
A book from one of her sisters.
A small wrapped package from another friend.
Sarah thanked everyone sincerely, opening each gift with genuine curiosity.
Francesco waited.
The small jewelry bag remained safely with Leah.
Eventually, Sarah noticed him looking toward it.
She smiled.
“You’ve been hiding something all afternoon.”
Francesco stood.
“Maybe.”
Leah handed him the bag.
Sarah watched him approach.
Francesco sat beside her and placed the first box in her hands.
“This is for you.”
Sarah looked at him.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
She opened it carefully.
When the lid lifted, the bracelet caught the light.
Sarah went quiet.
Her fingers touched it gently.
“Oh, Francesco.”
He smiled.
“You like it?”
She looked at him.
“I love it.”
There was no dramatic reaction.
Just a genuine smile that grew as she examined it.
Then Francesco handed her the second box.
“This one too.”
Sarah opened it.
The necklace rested inside.
She stared at it for a moment.
“You chose these?”
“Yeah.”
Leah smiled.
“He took his time.”
Sarah looked toward Leah.
“Did he?”
“He did.”
Francesco gave Leah a look.
“Don’t tell her everything.”
Sarah laughed.
“I want to know everything.”
Leah shrugged.
“He actually thought about what you’d wear.”
Sarah looked back at her son.
“That means more than you know.”
Francesco reached for the necklace.
“Do you want to put it on?”
Sarah nodded.
She turned slightly and lifted her hair.
Francesco stood behind her.
He carefully placed the necklace around her neck, bringing the two ends together.
His fingers were much less certain than they were when fastening his football boots.
Sarah noticed.
“Careful.”
“I am being careful.”
“You’re taking longer than I would.”
“Because I don’t want to break it.”
“You won’t.”
Finally, the clasp clicked into place.
Sarah lowered her hair.
She touched the necklace with her fingertips and looked down at it.
Francesco stepped back.
“It suits you.”
Sarah looked at him through the reflection of the nearby window.
“So does the bracelet.”
She slipped the bracelet around her wrist.
Leah came closer.
“It really does.”
Sarah smiled.
“Thank you, both of you.”
Francesco shook his head.
“It was my present.”
“I know.”
Sarah reached for his hand.
“But you brought Leah with you.”
Leah smiled.
“I was happy to help.”
Sarah squeezed both their hands briefly.
The moment lasted only a few seconds before someone from across the room called out.
“Sarah, turn around. Let us see it!”
Sarah turned.
The room responded with approving comments.
One of her friends stood up to look more closely.
“Oh, that’s beautiful.”
Another nodded.
“Very elegant.”
Sarah laughed.
“Apparently my son has good taste.”
Mike called from behind them.
“Don’t tell him that. He’ll become unbearable.”
Francesco laughed.
“I was already unbearable.”
“You said it, not me.”
The conversation moved on again.
The cake disappeared gradually.
Coffee was poured.
More stories surfaced.
The necklace remained around Sarah’s neck, and every so often someone complimented it.
She never seemed tired of explaining that Francesco had chosen it.
For the next two hours, the gathering continued at its own comfortable pace.
Nobody rushed.
People settled into longer conversations.
Some guests moved between the living room and garden.
Mike and one of his friends became involved in a discussion about an old family trip.
Sarah sat with her sisters for nearly half an hour.
Francesco listened to stories he remembered and others he had somehow never heard.
Leah became increasingly familiar with the family atmosphere, laughing easily whenever someone teased Francesco.
At one point Sarah looked around and said quietly to Francesco,
“This is nice.”
He knew exactly what she meant.
“Yeah.”
She glanced at him.
“You’ve been busy lately.”
“A little.”
“A little,” she repeated with a smile.
Francesco smiled back.
“I’ve missed this.”
Sarah rested her hand over his.
“So have I.”
There was no need to say more.
For once, the hours did not feel like something that needed to be measured.
Eventually, the first guests began leaving.
Goodbyes took longer than expected.
Someone hugged Sarah.
Another wished her happy birthday again.
Mike walked one of his oldest friends to the door.
Cars began pulling away from outside.
The house slowly became quieter.
One by one, the remaining relatives departed.
The final hugs were exchanged.
The last birthday wishes were repeated.
Eventually, only Francesco and Leah remained with Sarah and Mike.
Sarah looked around the room.
“Well.”
Mike sighed.
“Now we see what we’ve done.”
Francesco looked at the dining table.
“I’ll take care of this.”
Sarah protested.
“No, you don’t have to.”
“I know.”
He began collecting plates.
Leah picked up glasses.
Mike started carrying larger serving dishes toward the kitchen.
Sarah gathered napkins and decorations.
The four of them moved around the house without needing much instruction.
It felt strangely peaceful after the afternoon’s noise.
Francesco carried a stack of plates toward the kitchen.
Mike followed with a tray.
“Careful.”
“I’ve got it.”
“You said that when you were seven too.”
Francesco laughed.
“I was hoping you’d forgotten.”
“Never.”
Leah heard them from the dining room.
“He’s definitely not escaping those stories.”
Sarah smiled.
“Not in this family.”
They continued cleaning.
Food was covered and placed away.
Empty bottles were gathered.
Cups were washed.
The chairs were returned to their usual positions.
Leah helped Sarah straighten the living room, folding blankets and moving cushions back into place.
Francesco and Mike handled the heavier items, including the table extension and several boxes that had been stored temporarily in the hallway.
At one point Mike stepped back and looked around.
“Not bad.”
Francesco glanced at the room.
“We’ve made a dent.”
Sarah walked in carrying the final stack of plates.
“You’ve made a mess in the kitchen.”
Mike looked offended.
“We’ve been working.”
“You’ve been moving things.”
“That’s work.”
Leah laughed.
Francesco shook his head.
“I’m staying out of this.”
“You’re my son,” Sarah said. “You’re involved.”
He smiled.
“Yes, Mum.”
By the time they finished, the house had changed completely.
The decorations were mostly gone.
The empty glasses had disappeared.
The cake plates were stacked.
The chairs were back where they belonged.
Only a few traces of the afternoon remained.
Sarah’s new bracelet and necklace were among the clearest reminders.
She touched the necklace once as she stood near the doorway.
“I really love them.”
Francesco smiled.
“Good.”
“Very good.”
Mike nodded.
“You did well.”
Francesco looked at him.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Sarah looked toward the clock.
“It got late.”
Leah checked her phone.
“We should probably let you two relax.”
Sarah smiled.
“You’ve already done enough.”
Francesco picked up his jacket.
“We wanted to help.”
Mike walked over and gave him a firm hug.
“Thank you.”
Francesco hugged him back.
“No problem.”
Sarah approached next.
She embraced her son for several seconds.
“Thank you for coming home.”
Francesco smiled against her shoulder.
“Always.”
She pulled back.
“And thank you for the presents.”
“You’re welcome.”
She touched the necklace again.
“I’ll think of you whenever I wear it.”
Francesco smiled.
“That was the idea.”
Leah stepped forward and hugged Sarah.
“Happy birthday again.”
Sarah held her warmly.
“Thank you for being here.”
“Of course.”
Mike opened the door.
Cool evening air drifted into the hallway.
Francesco looked back once more.
The house was quiet now.
The same rooms that had been crowded with voices only a short time earlier had returned to their familiar shape.
He smiled.
“Happy birthday, Mum.”
Sarah waved him off gently.
“Go home.”
He laughed.
“All right.”
He and Leah stepped outside.
The door closed behind them.
For a moment they stood beside the car.
Neither immediately spoke.
The afternoon had left a pleasant tiredness behind.
Leah looked at him.
“She had a good birthday.”
Francesco nodded.
“She did.”
“And she really liked the necklace.”
“I noticed.”
Leah smiled.
“You were more nervous fastening it than you are taking a penalty.”
Francesco laughed.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“I’ll consider it.”
They got into the car.
Before starting the engine, Francesco looked back toward his parents’ house.
Through the window, he could see Sarah moving inside.
The bracelet caught the light when she lifted her hand.
He smiled.
There had been football the night before.
There would be football again soon.
But that day belonged to something else.
To his mother’s birthday.
To old family stories.
To Leah laughing beside him.
To helping his parents clear away the remains of a house full of people.
And to the simple satisfaction of knowing that, for a few hours, he had been exactly where he was supposed to be.
Francesco started the engine.
Leah reached across and rested her hand briefly over his.
They pulled away from the house together, leaving the last lights of Sarah and Mike’s home behind them.
__________________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 19 (2017)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, FA Cup 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, 2017/2018 Carabao Cup, Premier League 2017/2018, FA Cup 2017/2018, Champions League 2017/2018, 2018 World Cup, and 2018/2019 Community Shield.
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 20
Goal: 23
Assist: 1
MOTM: 0
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 2
Goal: 2
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 17/18 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 59
Goal: 76
Assist: 6
MOTM: 7
POTM: 0
England:
Match: 11
Goal: 14
Assist: 1
MOTM: 7
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9
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