Page 32 of Actions and Reactions (All It Takes #5)

Silas

I’ve been crying almost non-stop for two fucking days.

So much so that when my parents see me Sunday morning, they’re properly concerned.

“I’m okay, but can you please ask Aunt Lyla which cream I should use for my eyes, because I swear even my lashes hurt,” I beg Mom.

“Of course, honey,” she tells me, but I can see she doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, and she’s about to cry herself.

Well, she can get in line, because seeing her eyes fill up only sets me off again.

Feelings suck .

Every single one of them.

They can go fuck themselves, but also... not.

Because when Mom goes in for a hug, I see Lottie lean closer to Dad and whisper, “I feel like he might not be okay,” so casually, that I burst into laughter.

Laughing is good, it’s nice, even when it sounds hysterical and just unhinged enough that it makes my family look even more worried.

It all started with anger, of course. That lasted for my whole second day here, and then I started to remember every conversation I’d had with Vinny where we would dream about our future in the NHL.

We thought of all of it, even knowing we’d probably end up on different teams. We were going to get the same agent and make commercials together and poke fun at each other on the ice...

I was going to hold the Stanley Cup up over my head while my parents and sister watched with pride in their eyes, and of course Vinny would do the same.

And then I realized he’s had all of this, but without me.

Dave broke me when he asked how it would be right now if the roles were reversed. Would Vinny have stayed away for so many years?

Would he have resented me?

Would he have been filled with anger at every single thing I did with my career?

I don’t think he would.

So my own failings as a friend, and as a partner these past few months, finally caught up with me .

Yes, these tears are all because I’m feeling sorry for myself, and guilty.

Dave has pointed out how I’m not really dealing with the big loss yet, I’m not feeling it yet, but I’m catching up—dealing with the feelings that the consequences have caused, and not with that first action that set everything in motion.

It’s still a lot to process.

So between sniffles and sobs I tell my family all about it, and they seem less worried by the time the day ends and we finish our trauma class where Dave explains what I’m going through to them.

I also tell Mom and Dad, finally, that Vinny and I have been together since our week at the cabin, and that’s pretty much useless information to them—in a good way.

“We’ve suspected since you were kids,” Dad tells me with a careful smile that makes my eyes water yet again.

“When you were like two, you used to kiss each other, and we thought it was just cute, you know? But then you’d hold hands when you were six, and hug a lot.

” He shrugs. “We all talked about it, with Hulk and Lyla, and we still thought it was cute.”

“I’ve seen pictures, so I know we were cute,” I try to joke.

No one laughs, but there are smiles all around.

“That’s also why I wanted to make sure you saw that show when I ripped into Nilsson for being such an asshole.”

I feel like a dumbass for not realizing that, but I can’t really articulate it because the relief is too big .

By the end of the session with Dave, Lottie’s calling me a fountain, and she’s not wrong.

The next day I meet my physical therapist, Todd, and find out I’m going to be working out with Colin—who is in way better shape than me—and we bond over the pain of recovery, then he asks about hockey and working for a team.

“I’m sorry,” he rushes to say when I hesitate for a second. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to of course, or if it’s painful.” Todd keeps his eyes on my hand while I curl and extend my fingers slowly, but I can tell he’s paying attention.

“It’s okay,” I reassure Colin. “If I’m honest, it’s the second-best thing,” I admit.

He stops walking and I can tell I have all his attention, so I think of a cool anecdote to tell him.

“The guys are normally very easy going and not only amazing players but good people too, but during the playoffs it’s a different beast. Especially when you get to the finals. ”

“I bet it’s electric,” he says, somewhat dreamily.

“It really is, and the guys are all so focused all the time that they forget some basic things, like...” I have to pause to bark out a laugh when I remember.

“Twocox—Knox Wilcox,” I correct when he looks at me confused.

“He was so focused on reviewing tape on his tablet after practice one day, that he forgot to put on a shirt on his way out of the rink. He got in his car and sat there for about forty minutes, still watching shit, then he drove home and only realized he was shirtless when he got there.”

Colin’s laugh makes me feel better, like I’m not just finding the good things for myself, but maybe I’m bringing some joy to his life as well. That would be cool.

“And they all do shit like that constantly.” I nod when he just keeps laughing. “Santa had this playlist of songs you only twerk to basically, and that’s how he’d get everyone to lighten up.”

“He just retired, didn’t he?” He gets back to his walking and increases the speed just a little.

“Yes. He and Charlie live somewhere close to here now, actually.”

“Man, I’ve been a fan of the Deep all my life, obviously, since I lived in the city?—”

“My sister’s gonna love to hear that,” I interrupt him quickly, and by the way he nods, I think he might’ve kept his distance from her on Sunday on purpose.

“You’re cool, dude, but your sister . . .”

I don’t love the tone when he trails off, and I tell him so, which makes him laugh again and then...

“Yeah, the blush isn’t any better dude, damn.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He lets go of the bars for a second to hold his palms up. “Anyway, I always have and always will root for the Deep, but we’ve always rooted for Charlie too, you know? He’s one of our own.”

“I think that’s awesome. I don’t think it’s that way for Vinny in LA, and his Dad freaking played there too.”

“Vinny is Jankowski, then? Hulk’s son?”

“That’s right.” I nod and focus on my hand again. “He’s my best friend, and well... boyfriend, I guess. ”

“Man, you guess? That’s some weak game right there.” He points at me and I have to laugh then too.

“I do have a very weak game, Colin, that’s just a fact of life.”

“No it’s not,” he protests. “You can up your game whenever you want to, kid. You just have to actually want to.”

I keep thinking about his words for the rest of the day, and even though Todd tells me I won’t need as much PT as he thought, that my hand is healing really well, and that I’ll only have to see him two times a week, I can’t feel the accomplishment of any of those things.

“Why do you think I can feel all the shitty stuff and not the good things?” I ask Dave early the next day after I tell him all about it. “Why only the bad stuff?”

“I told you this before. First comes the shit, then comes the sunshine.” He has said that in multiple sessions.

“I still hate it.”

“I know you do,” he murmurs.

At our group therapy session the next day, when it’s my turn, I talk about what I love about hockey, since I’ve been wanting to focus on the good stuff.

Dr. Jody encourages me to explain the game to Annie and Consuelo, since they have no clue what I’m talking about, and even brings in a TV so I can show them some clips.

The video of the face-off finishes and the next starts without any delay, and it’s of a fight—actually it’s Santa beating the shit out of a guy—and Annie is fascinated even after I quickly shut it off.

“They can just fight whenever they feel like it? ”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Helen tells her. “Though they get penalties for it, they just let the players have at it.”

“Man, I wish I could just punch people whenever I feel like it,” Annie mumbles.

Consuelo, who’s next to her, holds up a hand between them as if protecting herself, and Annie bursts out laughing.

She has a melodic and happy-sounding laugh, and I’m a bit mesmerized since I’ve never even heard her chuckle. And I guess I’m not the only one, since we all stare at her.

She stops when she notices our stunned stares, and we all rush to apologize.

“You have an awesome laugh,” I tell her, trying to be encouraging. “It’s contagious.”

And the joy I get from that moment?

I feel that shit to the marrow of my bones.

October

The routine and rhythm of New Hope starts to become not only familiar but comforting. I know what’s going to happen every day, though the actual interactions are unpredictable—especially when Helen “graduates” and leaves—and I know who I’m going to see every day.

I don’t know if Dr. Jody or Dave would’ve agreed, but I didn’t even ask if there was a way I could watch the Pirates’ home game against Anaheim for the season opener, because I don’t want to disturb the peace I’ve been finding.

I know I’ll have to eventually, but for the moment I don’t feel strong enough .

What I do feel strong enough for is finding new things I’ve been avoiding, like really talking to my parents about what happened seven years ago, before and after the accident.

I make it a point to talk to Lottie about her job, and to make sure she knows how proud I am of her.

I don’t think I can really get into it with Dad yet, that seems just a bit too painful still, but I know that someday soon I will.

I’ll find the courage and the strength to tell him and Mom how important hockey was for me, how they were the ones who always encouraged me the most, and how that’s come back to bite us all in the ass.