sweet surrender | pulisic ✓

third

Just before she stepped into the hall, she paused to take a deep breath. Calming herself down before facing her parents was essential. Especially if it was about football.

"Hey, mom?" She called as she slowly ambled toward her mom, Greta. The older Durm looked up from her book, raising her eyebrows at her daughter. "Yes, Alexandra?"

Alex took a seat beside Greta on the couch. Her dad, Fabian, was seated on his comfy chair, nose deep in the papers. Alex glanced at her dad before meeting Greta's eyes again. "Uh," she began, bracing herself for the answer even before asking the question. "Are you coming to Erik's game tomorrow."

As soon as Greta heard the question, she sighed deeply. "Oh I don't know. I was actually hoping I'd be watching Erik graduate with a doctorate. Not kick a ball around aimlessly." Here we go again, Alex groaned. She was so tempted to roll her eyes at that moment, but she resisted it.

Instead she leaned back and shut her eyes tightly as her mother continued blabbering. "I don't even see what's so good about that game. Why is he chasing down balls and not making some sort of positive impact on this world," Greta lamented.

"He makes lots of fans around the world happy," Alex tried, crossing her arms over her chest. "He doesn't make me happy," Greta argued, glaring at her. Alex exhaled deeply, slumping down lower on the couch, "Mom we've been through this a million times."

"Yet neither of you listen to me," Greta stressed, closing her book and eyeing her daughter attentively. Alex frowned, the conversation vexing her completely. She decided to let it be, and quickly rose from the couch. "Look if you don't want to go for Erik's game –"

Greta opened her mouth, immediately shutting Alex out. "Who even allowed that boy to play football? Was it you, honey?" She looked to her husband, who briefly looked up from his papers, only to shrug before resuming his reading.

Alex groaned, quickly turning for her bedroom. No matter how many times she had to face her mother's nagging, it never failed to utterly irritate her. "I'll tell him you said hi," she muttered, more to herself than to Greta.

As she shut the door behind her, she stared at the three tickets Erik had passed to her. A small sigh escaped her lips, and she wondered if she would ever be able to change her mother's narrow mindset on the definition of success.

⦁⦁⦁

Christian carefully placed a slice of cake onto the plate, and headed to the living room where his family were. "For you, grandma," he smiled, setting the plate down in front of the elderly woman. She flashed him a warm smile before lifting the plate to examine the cake.

"Did you bake this?" She asked, curiosity evident on her face. Christian chuckled at the question, shaking his head, "I've never been any good at baking." She laughed as she dug into her cake, "oh of course, you play water polo right?"

He glanced to his left where his cousins were seated on the couch chattering away. "That's Gary," he gestured toward his hunky cousin. She looked toward the boy, and nodded as if suddenly recalling everything. "Oh, yes! You came all the way to Germany just to play hockey, I remember now."

Christian giggled, opening his mouth to correct her. But she interrupted him, waving her fork in the air. "This cake reminds me," she said in between mouthfuls, "I have something very important for you."

The elderly woman slowly rose from her seat, gently tugging at Christian's hand as he assisted her up. "Remember those cupcakes I used to bake for you all the time?" She asked as she led him into the kitchen.

Christian's eyes lit up at her words. The cupcakes that she used to bake for him and his cousins were practically slices of heaven. Every time she made them, they would crowd around the kitchen like bees to honey.

It wasn't just the children who were attracted to them. Even the adults would sometimes scurry to get one for themselves. But much to everyone's frustration, she insisted on keeping the recipe a secret, entrusting it only to those closest to her.

"I've decided to give you the recipe," she declared coolly as Christian froze in his spot. She sat on one of the kitchen stools, producing a slip of paper from her pocket. Christian stared at her, absolutely dumbfounded. "Are you serious?" He asked eagerly.

His grandma smiled, nodding as she held out the paper. "It'll help you remember home, miles away from home," she explained as he took it from her. He excitedly enveloped her into a hug, "thank you so much!"

She laughed, squeezing him back. "Now, I want you to keep it safe okay?" She said as they separated, keeping both her hands on his shoulders. "Don't go around giving it to just anyone, alright?" She said.

He nodded profusely, beaming widely and hugging the piece of paper dearly. Now in his possession he had a very valuable piece of his family inheritance, and he planned to keep it safe. Very safe.

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