I dial my mum’s number with shaky fingers.
She picks up on the first ring, not giving me much time to prepare myself. “Hey! What a surprise treat!”
I take a deep breath. “Hey, Mum. I have a question.”
“I’ll do my best to answer it.”
“You’ve said the same thing since I was a kid.”
“Because you were too curious for your own good, and you’d ask a million questions. Have sympathy for raising a child without a smartphone.”
“Wow, I forgot how old you were.”
She giggles. “What did you want to ask?”
“You told me you would have someone do the predictive testing if I wanted it?”
Her lack of a response adds to my nervousness.
I continue, wanting to fill the silence. “I can always wait for the end of the race season. But—” Maybe that’s a better plan in case things don’t go the way I want them and I’m slapped with the life sentence I didn’t want.
“No! It’s fine. I can have a genetic counselor meet with you through telehealth sessions before you can see them in person when you land in Italy. They can get the results expedited.”
“Will you come to Italy? I don’t know if I—”
“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “Dad and I can fly there and meet with you before we all go to the counselor. That gives us about two weeks to make arrangements.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. It’s my job as your mother. And I’m so proud of you for wanting to do this—for being brave enough to try.”
“I’ve been watching someone else face their fears, and it’s time I did the same.”
