Free Saving Montgomery Sole by Mariko Tamaki Page B

junior soccer championship game tomorrow.”
    Right.
    I think it always kind of, sort of bummed my moms out that I’m not, in any way, shape, or form, into any kind of sports.
    Not even archery. Not even bowling. Not even darts .
    My moms are sporty people. They hike, they bike, they ski, they rock climb, they play lesbian baseball every first Thursday of the month. Momma Jo was a professional field hockey player when she was younger, field hockey being this weird sport where people play hockey on grass instead of ice.
    My moms met at an international lesbian intramural sports tournament. When Mama Kate sprained her ankle in a soccer game, Momma Jo drove her to the hospital. Just because. And that was it. Mama Kate even left her college so they could go to the same school in Canada.
    Then they moved back here when Momma Jo’s company opened an office in California.
    I asked Momma Jo once if there was some category for that on the sperm donor form. Like, if there was a box you could check for sporty or athletic . Momma Jo said the only boxes they cared about were human and male .
    â€œIt’s not sperm that makes you sporty,” she added. “Trust me, I know.”
    The best evidence for this would be Tesla, who is made from the exact same genetic stuff as me and is super sporty. Every month, it seems, it’s a different sport and a different team and a different animal. In the fall, during soccer season, it was all about the Namaste Yoga Studio Cubs, because that’s who sponsors soccer teams in California, yoga studios. Sorbetties.
    â€œ Dinner! ” Momma Jo howled, banging on a pot with her big wooden spoon.
    Tesla hopped up and bounded into the dining room. I strolled. Because it’s not a race and I, unlike Tesla, do not feel the need to be exercising every minute of the day.
    I love our dining room. One year for Christmas my moms decided we should repaint it so it was more festive. So the walls are red stripes (Momma), lavender (Mama), pink (Tesla), and black and blue stars (me). Plus all our plates are from garage sales and antique places, Mama Kate’s obsession, so they’re all different. I always make sure I get the red bowl with the bull’s-eye in the middle. Mama Kate found it on my birthday last year.
    So anyway, there we were, eating Tesla’s favorite night-before-the-big-game meal, deep-fried chicken burgers, sweet potato fries, potato salad, and beans, like a regular lesbian family.
    â€œSo what’s the name of the other team?” I asked.
    â€œThe Canyon Tires Elementary Crows.”
    â€œTough team?”
    â€œUh, yes .” Tesla pushed her plate back. “So I think we should pray. To win.”
    â€œWhat?” I coughed.
    Momma Jo, who has a big laugh, dropped her chicken burger and laughed big. “You think that’s the tiebreaker?”
    Tesla frowned. I laughed. Mama frowned. Mama Kate is super into the idea that you shouldn’t laugh at kids unless they’re telling you a joke.
    Momma Jo dropped her fork and put her hands in the air. “Okay, okay! Look. It’s not a bad idea, Tesla. I just, I think what I’m saying is … What? I’m saying praying doesn’t win games. Praying is something people do as part of something much bigger, like a religion.”
    Mama Kate put her hand on Tesla’s hand. “What we’re trying to say is, sweetie, praying is not something you do just so you can win a game.”
    â€œNo kidding,” I murmured, two fries in my mouth.
    â€œOther people are praying,” Tesla protested, folding her arms over her chest, pushing her lips into an angry knot.
    â€œTesla,” Mama Kate sighed.
    Tesla banged her fist on the table. “Abigail’s parents are praying. Caitlin’s parents are praying. Sarah’s parents are praying. Pearl’s parents are praying. If they all pray and I don’t pray, we could lose .”
    â€œWell,” Momma Jo