Page 47

Byron

“It smells like shit in here.”

Lola strips her gaze from Cookie over to me standing a very safe fifteen yards away.

“Well that’s because there is shit in here,” she says, expecting me to understand how stables work. I’m from fucking Brooklyn not the Adorondacks.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know that, I’ve only ever been near creatures this big with you.”

“Maybe we can get a little closer?” She reaches for my hand that’s resting on the fence separating the horses living quarters from the rest of the barn.

I hesitate, wanting to pull my hand away.

Until she flashes me one of those big smiles that scrunches up her nose that she knows I can’t say no too.

“The big bad hockey player is afraid of a sweet old horse?”

It’s the challenge in those forest green eyes that has me opening the stall door. The moment I walk through that door it’s clear Cookie is protective of her mom. She lets out a little huff that has me taking a step back.

“It’s okay, just give her some back scratches and she’ll love you forever.”

I’ve ridden horses with Lola before but normally I just have to jump on and we ride. Standing this close, a handful of steps away in an enclosed space just doesn’t feel natural.

Lola places a hand on either side of my gloved hand and strips it off. I’m not sure if it’s the weather or Lola’s touch or the dropping November temperatures that sends chills up my arm, but Cookie doesn’t care. She lets out this sound that should have popped my eardrum.

“Fuck!” I tense, feeling the heat run to my cheeks.

I look like fucking coward.

“Try not to act so tense. She’ll pick up on your nerves.” She plants a soft kiss on my cheek. The sweet gesture helps ease the nerves.

I look at a Cookie and I swear she’s taunting me.

I promise I won’t kick you. Or shit on your Timberlands.

I tell myself I’m not scared of this nine hundred pound animal. I run hand down her back as she snuggles into Lola’s shoulder.

Seeing my black clothes loving, scowl wearing tattoo covered girlfriend melt into the touch of her beloved horse is why they teach us to never judge a book by the cover.

“I guess she’s not so bad,” I relent.

Lola’s face lights up at my revelation. I step back and let Lola get to work. I’m in awe how swiftly she moves. That she’s able to talk to me without missing a step.

I settle on the bleachers, about mid-way up so I can get a full view of the course she is working on today.

For as long as I’ve known her, Lola’s trust hasn’t been something that comes naturally to her. Just by the way she settles herself into the saddle it’s clear that Lola and Cookie have a synergy that I can’t fully comprehend.

Where Lola guides Cookie follows. It’s not a one sided relationship, like the ones Lola has been a part of the majority of her life. They work together to navigate the course knowing that one can’t accomplish what they need to without the other.

My phone vibrates against the bleachers and I snag it quickly so the noise doesn’t startle the other riders.

Coach Stevens:

Please meet me in my office as soon as you can.

Well fuck.

I send Lola a text quickly explaining why I left and call an Uber.

Ten minutes later my butt is planted in the very uncomfortable arm chair across from Coach’s desk.

“Byron,” Coach says in his don’t shit with me tone. It quite honestly has me wondering what the fuck I’ve done wrong in the last eighteen hours since I last saw him.

“I had a meeting with Mr. Holloway and the alternate captains. I know that your parents just moved to Westvale and we wanted to know how you felt about your parents coming with us on our next road trip?”

I’m in disbelief. It’s not often that your parents are asked to join the team like this. I actually don’t think I’ve seen it be done before.

“I would love that, but are you sure? I don’t want it to be a distraction from the rest of the team.”

“None of us think it will be. We don’t want you missing this Thanksgiving with your parents. Time is precious Byron, don’t waste it.” Coach’s normal unreadable eyes grow soft, sorry really.

I’m not sure what I can say to accurately express how I’m feeling. The “Thank you, Coach,” I eventually choke out doesn’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling.

I give him a hug on the way out. I don’t forget the fact that this man has been a father figure to me since I stepped foot on campus.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me Coach. You’ve made the last four years the best of my life.”

When he lets me go, the first person I want to talk to is my dad. That’s never happened before.

My parents were in shock by the kind gesture from my coach and jumped on the opportunity to join us on our six game road trip.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving and it was the best one I’ve had in a long time.

It wasn’t that the food was great. In all honesty the catered meal we ate in the conference room of the hotel we were staying at in Boston was okay, but it was sitting at a table with my best friends while my dad told us his life story.

We heard all about how he grew up with his grandparents and how having two sisters meant there weren’t many quiet moments in his childhood.

His face lit up when he talked about how he tried to romance my mom for years before she finally gave in and gave him a chance.

While it’s been amazing to have them here with me it’s impossible to not notice the steady decline my dad has endured since we got the second opinion. His eyes are sunken in and his once sturdy frame is dwindling. His sense of humor hasn’t taken a hit and his joy has been contagious.

So far we’ve only lost a single game during this six game road trip. Tomorrow’s the last game of the trip and one I personally can’t afford to lose. It’s the first game of our home and home series with Hamilton University.

Dalton has been oddly quiet since the whole sex tape scandal. He has to be pissed that he lost Lola, because there‘s no shot in hell he’ll ever get another shot with a girl as amazing as her.

None of that matters right now. Coach gave me an extension on curfew to hang out with my parents.

Mom got into the shower once we got back so Dad and I settled on the couch and turned on the Westvale football game.

Josiah and the rest of the Retrievers have been killing it this season and have a shot of being selected for the playoff tournament.

“You haven’t got a chance to meet Josiah yet, but that man is going to go down as a Westvale legend.” I tell my dad when Josiah rips off for a forty yard touchdown.

“How did a football player end up in the Hockey house?” A question that a lot of people have.

“He was friends with Lola’s friend, well I guess you’ll know her as Jalen’s fiancé, Ivy. We all became friends last year and he asked if he could move in when his other living arrangements fell through.”

My dad nods along, but it’s clear that he has more than my roommate situation running through his mind. His eyes drift to a place that’s far from here. I forget all about my conversation with my dad and focus my attention back to the game.

“Hey Byron,” my dad says softly.

“Yeah Dad?” I answer but keep my eyes glued to the television.

“Can you look at me for a second?”

I mute the TV before turning to my dad.

“I’ve lived my life with a lot of regrets, but the biggest one I have was not treating your mother with the love and respect she deserves.” His eyes clench shut. The conversation a difficult one for him to be having.

“I know things are going to get hard for you in the next few months. Please don’t let those emotions affect your relationship with Lola.

I really believe you guys could have something special.

Don’t ruin that relationship like I did with your mother.

I’m lucky she took me back. I know that in another universe I may not have been so lucky. ”

This is the advice that I’ve needed from my father throughout my life. There is a part of me that is angry at him for waiting until he was dying to give me this advice. The other part of me tells me that I should be happy that I have this time with him.

“I won’t, Dad. I lost her once and I won’t let that happen again.”

It’s the end of the third quarter when Mom takes my dad’s place on the couch and my dad takes hers in the bathroom.

I turn towards my mom. She looks happy. I don’t remember there ever being a time where I saw her this carefree.

“He really has always loved you.”

Her eyebrows pinch up as her eyes go wide. “Where did that come from?”

“Just something Dad told me tonight and I don’t know if he’s ever told you how much you mean to him.”

She closes her eyes, a move she’s always done to try and gather herself. It doesn’t work this time. Her tears flow freely.

“I love him so much, Byron. If you’re ever lucky enough to find love like that, hold on to it. You’re lucky if you get one of those in your lifetime.”