Page 20

CHAPTER 20

JUST A FEW DAYS

KAYDEN

I love this game. It doesn't hurt that I racked up two assists and then got the game-winning goal with under a minute left. Being great just makes the game that much better. I even love the postgame routines. The warm down, the shower, the press room. Not even the new reporter from The Post could get to me today.

He lurked in the back of the room like he always does, lip curled in a sneer the entire time. When it was finally his turn for a question, I braced myself, but he just asked what I thought about when I scored my goal—the same softball question another reporter asked me earlier, and I told him the same lie. They know about my engagement, but I couldn't bring myself to admit the truth. That when the puck slapped against the back of the net, the only thought in my mind was about the pretty redhead waiting for me in the stands.

As he sat back in his chair, he gave me a look that told me he was taking it easy on me today. But he can make whatever faces he wants. I don't care about him. He's not going to bring me down.

Nothing can today.

I'm practically bouncing when I get to the family lounge after the press conference. Emory hasn't missed a chance in the last two weeks to tell me just how much she hates hockey, but that was before seeing a game in person. There's something magical about being in the arena and feeling the energy from the crowd. Sometimes I swear there's even an energy to the ice. I've never known anyone who can go to a hockey game and not love it.

I want to know what she thinks now. I want her to love it just a fraction of the amount I do.

The family lounge is packed with people, and it's nearly impossible to find anyone. Every seat on each of the black leather couches is taken. People are standing along the pale yellow walls, plates of food gripped tight while they talk and gesture with their free hands.

Brant is at the bar with Chloe. Just like after every game, they have a dozen bowls in front of them—each one drowned in milk and almost overflowing with a different flavor of cereal. One spoonful at a time, they work their way back and forth down the line until one of them gets too sick to eat anymore.

I rub the top of Chloe's head. Like always, she swats my hand away and rolls her eyes. But I don't follow up by joking around with her tonight. I can't. Not until I find Emory.

Five seasons in Salt Lake City, and this is the first time someone is here for me on Family Night. But my heart beats faster with every second I don't find her. Every moment I don't hear her voice over the din filling the room, my stomach twists. Until all I can do is lean against the wall and let my eyes close.

She left?

Being alone on Family Night has never bothered me before. I can't let it get to me this year either. I don't need her to be here. I don't need anyone except those boys in the dressing room with me before and after every game. But the weight in my chest builds no matter how many times I repeat the line to myself.

But that weight dissolves when I hear her voice at the door. I know instantly that it's her. Her and Lily. I take a step toward them before I even look up, but when I do, I freeze .

Every year I leave a ticket for Mom on Family Night, and every year it goes unclaimed. But there she is. Standing between Emory and Lily. Smiling? I don't know the last time I saw her smile. I hate that a tiny spark of hope flares to life inside me at the sight now.

"Mom?"

"Surprise!"

All the emptiness I lived with for years—the emptiness I thought I'd escaped when I left home—rushes back into me, leaving no space for anything else.

She opens her arms to hug me, but I can't move. I don't know the last time my mom and I hugged, but I know those cold hugs are the reason for my emptiness. With each one, I tried desperately to transfer any bit of life I had into the ghost that she had become, but it never worked. She stayed a shadow, and eventually I had nothing left to give.

But that's not what it feels like when she steps forward and wraps her arms around me now. This feels real. This is what it felt like before, and it makes me want to melt into that warmth just like I could when I was nine.

I want to ask her what's changed, but I'm afraid of the answer. I'm scared to find out nothing has. So I shift my attention to Emory. She's keeping her face still, but there's just a hint of a smile.

"I was looking for you." I hope the tremble in my voice doesn't betray the worry I felt just seconds ago.

"Bathroom." She shrugs. "So… I finally got to meet your mom."

As soon as Mom lets go of me, Emory slips her arm around my back, and I lean into her. "Your mom found out about our engagement. Our very real and very committed engagement. I can't believe you didn't tell her, babe." Emory squeezes her arm tight around me. For a moment, I think she's just trying to pull me closer. Then I wonder if she's trying to fracture my ribs.

"I think Chloe probably needs me for something," Lily says. I turn and see Chloe laughing with Brant. "Yeah, poor girl definitely needs me. I'd better go help. It was good to meet you, Michelle." Lily smiles before walking quickly away. I wish I could go with her.

"That's because I wanted it to be a surprise," I answer Emory. "Remember, babe? We talked about visiting her for the holidays. Just last night as we were lying in bed. Together. Because lying in bed together is a thing we do almost every night. But you said you might be too busy to get away."

Mom's eyes flick to Emory and then back to me. "Really? So if I were to ask Emory something simple, like what state I live in, she would know?"

Emory and I both nod, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

"Without you whispering the answer in her ear?"

I look at Emory, desperately trying to use my eyes to communicate the words South and Carolina .

"Of course I could," Emory says. "Granted, I was a little distracted last night when he was talking about it."

Mom's eyebrow quirks up, and now I'm trying to communicate South and Carolina and please tell my mom you didn't mean that kind of distraction. But Emory is apparently picking up none of it.

"You live in Neewww…" She drags the word out, trying to get a clue from Mom's face, but she might as well try to get a reaction from a wall. "The new state of Wiiiiss… West… Maine." Emory pinches her eyes closed and draws in a painful hissing breath as soon as she says it. "That new state that's west of Maine."

My mom perks up. "Oh. So he really did tell you. That's exactly right. I live in one of the forty-nine states that's west of Maine." Mom chuckles. "Honey, I know Kayden doesn't talk about me more than he has to. You don't have to cover for him."

"Really, Emory?" I whisper. "West of Maine?"

"Well, excuse me for not knowing something that you never told me! I didn't realize your family information was classified."

The muscles in my back tighten. It's because I stopped letting myself think of them as my family a long time ago. But even that was still a long time after they stopped acting like a family to me .

"Why are you here?" I ask Mom.

She shrugs. "Isn't it obvious? You told me you leave a ticket for me on every Family Night."

"But you never come to any of them. Why now?"

When Emory hip checks me, I realize my words might be harsher than they should be, but they can never be as harsh as I wish they were. The only thing this woman has ever been was broken. So broken that it started to break me. She shouldn't be surprised that I've created a life where I'll never need her again.

"I found out about your engagement online. I guess I wanted to feel like part of your life again. More than just someone you text every few weeks."

I tried. After Dad left, I tried for so long. Longer than I should have. Dad leaving destroyed our family. But instead of realizing I was just a kid who was desperate for anyone to show me that they would always be there, Mom retreated.

I was only eleven years old when I realized I couldn't let myself be close to my own mom anymore. The only thing she wanted from me was company in her abyss.

No matter what boundaries I erected, though, I kept a lifeline between us. Messages every few weeks. A ticket on Family Night. Until tonight, she never showed a desire to be anywhere except the bottom.

"A lot's happened, and I want to tell you all about it. That's why I want to stay with you two," Mom says, as if we're a normal family that does things like this.

My jaw drops so far I feel it pop. "You what?"

"Just a few days. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I'll be gone by Monday. I'm sure you have an extra bedroom, Mr. Pro Hockey Player." She chuckles like this is a joke. "I'll even make that dressing you like."

"You haven't made that since I was nine."

Every Thanksgiving from the time Dad left until I finally moved out was just her sitting in front of the television, scrolling on her phone. When it was time for dinner, I microwaved two Swanson turkey dinners and sat at the kitchen table, waiting for her to join me. She never did. So when I finished eating, I would set her dinner on the arm of her chair and go to my room, where I'd spend the rest of the day curled in a ball with a book under the heaviest blanket I had.

"I don't want that dressing, Mom." My heart is beating so hard, I can feel its pulse behind my eyes. "I have a good life now. I don't want y?—"

My throat pinches shut when I see that familiar void flash across her face. I sweep my hand down my face, forcing myself to take several deep breaths. "I have a fiancée now, Mom. It's not just my decision." Before either Mom or Emory can react, I drag Emory out into the hallway.

"Oh no you don't," Emory hisses once we're out of Mom's earshot. "You want me to be the bad guy here, but I'm not going to do it. She's your mom, Kayden. If you want to tell her no, then you have to be the one to do it."

"I can't." My head droops, suddenly too heavy to hold up. "You don't know what it was like, Emory. Calling her a mom is like calling a dried husk corn on the cob. When Dad left, it's like she left me too."

Emory steps forward, putting her arms around my neck and resting her forehead against mine. The touch slows my racing heart, letting me draw a full breath. "She's here now. She's trying. Maybe you could too?"

"What if I don't want to?"

"Then don't," she answers. "But how will you feel knowing you had one last shot and didn't take it?"

Like I didn't do enough. Even after years of trying.

"You're right. Stay with me?" I'm so embarrassed to ask that it comes out as little more than a breath.

Several seconds pass before she nods. The skin of her forehead tugs on mine, and the tightness in my chest loosens.

Emory slides her fingertips down my arm until she finds my hand and takes it in hers. "Come on." She leads me back to where Mom is pretending she hasn't been watching us the whole time.

"What's the verdict?" She asks. Just as I notice her quivering hands, she hides them behind her back.

"We'd love to have you, Michelle."

I blow out the breath I've been holding. "Yeah." I can't muster nearly the enthusiasm that Emory can. "We'd like that."