Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I snapped my mouth shut, ashamed of myself.
“Hmm.” Jake closed his eyes, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips. “Did you see my goal? I didn’t think I could get by Trinsky. The guy is built like a truck…one of those huge ones with…”
I sat back, relief flooding my system as the Jake I knew and loved slowly emerged from his foggy cocoon as if nothing potentially catastrophic had threatened our world.
But I knew how this would play out. They might put him on a one-game concussion protocol, but Jake would be on the ice soon after. And he’d fight to be there. He was young and it was his choice, his passion. His dream was to play for the NHL, no matter the cost.
For the first time, I realized it could be very costly indeed.
And not just to him.
20
SMITTY
The drive to the airport was quiet. The flight between Toronto and New York City was quiet. The wait between flights was quiet. But the silence on the icy road between Burlington and Elmwood felt like an omen.
I tried to brush off Bryson’s noncommunicative state as parental concern. I wanted to give him space to process the past forty-eight hours from hell and assure him the doctors knew what they were doing. Jake was a healthy young man who’d skyrocketed in popularity overnight. He was the new hotshot in the AHL—a good-looking, tough, smart player who’d seemingly bounced back from injury like a knight slaying a dragon at the last possible second.
It was normal to be worried, but parents weren’t consulted regarding bumps to the noggin—even the ones that knocked their kid unconscious. The Scorpions planned to sit Jake for one game, but he was expected to practice and play in Syracuse next weekend.
That was it.
Hey, I’d been in Jake’s position. I understood that “play at all costs” mentality. I got that Bryson saw this from an angle I couldn’t appreciate, but I wished he’d talk about it. I was the one who clammed up about feelings and shit. Not Bryson.
But here we were on a lonesome stretch of road, my grip tight on the wheel, instinctively bracing for patches of thin ice. Because that was what I did when shit got real.
“You all right?” I asked for the millionth time.
“Hmm.”
See?
“Jake’s okay,” I continued cautiously. “I know that was scary as fuck, but they’ll be careful with him. He’s their franchise. They won’t ignore his medical needs or—”
“I know.”
I fiddled with the music for a mile or two and settled on an old Dolly Parton song my dad had liked. When she’d hummed her final plea for Jolene to leave her man alone, I turned the volume down and tried conversation again. Neutral conversation this time.
“My storage unit is too full. I’m gonna have to go through some of those boxes one more time. Maybe you were right about the Pokémon cards.” Nothing. “It was good to see some of my old teammates. No one seemed surprised I didn’t stick around for that newscaster job. I think it was the suit. I don’t do suits.” Nothing. No jokes, no lascivious comments…nothing. So I pushed and went to that one place that still scared the crap out of me. “I almost came out to them.”
Bryson’s head swiveled my way. “You did?”
“Almost. We were a couple of beers in, and we needed to get to the rink. The timing didn’t feel right, but…it’s gonna happen. Take it to the bank.”
He went quiet, but I could see him nodding in my periphery. I took my eye off the road for a beat and glanced over.
I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t shaky hands and suspiciously shiny eyes. Okay, now I was officially freaked out.
“Good. That’s…great,” he said after an awkwardly long pause.
I frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m happy for you.” He cleared his throat. “I am.”
I shot him another sideways look. “C’mon, Bry, talk to me. I don’t do guessing games well. Is it Jake? Are you worried?”
“Yes, but…I shouldn’t be. He’s high as a kite. Feels better than ever. Can’t wait to get on the ice.” Bryson’s monotone delivery was almost as worrisome as his detached air. “I know it’s part of the game. I’m talking like a parent, and he’s a young man whose world is opening up in front of him.”
“That’s what you want for him, right? You’ve supported him from the start. You know the risks as well as anyone.”
“Yeah.” He looked out the window again. “I know.”
More quiet.
I veered right, slowing my truck on the winding road leading to the Four Forest area. Church spires dotted the horizon through the snow laden evergreens.
We passed the Black Horse Inn and drove through another winding section of road in silence before reaching Main Street. Snow painted the landscape with a light dusting of white, covering rooftops, cars, and lampposts. Even in the depths of winter, it was a pretty sight.