Page 82 of Heartbreak Hockey

“Dad,” I say, holding up my hand. “It’s okay. It was heavy at the time, but I have some clarity now.”

“You do?”

I crook my lips into a half smile, nodding as the last of the geese make for the parking lot across the street. Don’t know what mischief they’re gonna get up to there and don’t want to. I’m just glad they’ll be outta our way. I’m still traumatized from being chased by those snake-necked birds one too many times. We carry on walking.

“I went through the motions last season. We all know why. This year is different. I think I could get drafted with my stats picking up and even if I don’t, I want to stay with the league and keep up with my part-time job in the off-seasons. I’m too old to be leeching off my parents.”

“We don’t think of you as a leech, son.”

“No, but I do. I need to make my own way and if I’m not going to go to school, it’s time for me to do that.”

We walk for a bit in silence. “I’m your father so naturally I have a million worries running through my head, but that’s normal parental anxiety I don’t need to trouble you with. If there’s any year for you to make the draft, it’s this one. I meant what I said, eh? You do have your spark back and I think I know what the inspiration for that is.”

It’s too cold to feel the heat of slight embarrassment, but I know I’m blushing anyway. “Mercy is a good coach, what can I say?”

“I don’t doubt that’s true, but I think he’s mending your broken heart too.”

Sipping my coffee, I reflect on that. Has my heart mended? Or am I simply moving Mercy into the vacancy Rhett left in my heart? I don’t want it to be the latter, but there’s no way to know for sure. Maybe the only way tofullymend a broken heart is to give it an injection of love via falling for someone else.

“Maybe. Whatever happens, it’s time for me to move on. I’ve been stagnant and I’ve been paying in hockey years. Sorry, Dad. I know you wanted me to be a lawyer or a surgeon or something else that would fund my life forever.”

He puts a strong hand on my shoulder, squeezing it with love. “I want you to be happy and safe. I want to know I’ve given you all the tools you need to take care of yourself once we’re gone.”

I don’t like thinking about life without them, but it’s inevitable. “I did come up with a plan B to soothe the tender hearts of my loving parents,” I say. “The guys have wanted me to move into their house for a long time, either way that’s what I’ll do off-season.”

Dirk, Dash, and the Alderchuck brothers rent a house in kits. They tried to convince me to move in at the end of last season, but I was worried about money with the whole pay cut thing. I’ll have to live a little leaner, but I’ll be okay.

“Atta boy. I like that. It’ll still enable you to save some money even if you’ll be paying more than living rent-free at home.”

I nod. “Yeah, and I can invest. I’ll save up and maybe find something to invest in. With better stats this year—I’m being optimistic about it—I’m going to get my agent to negotiate a higher wage.”

“I like it, Jack.”

“Yeah? You’re not disappointed in me for sticking with hockey and not getting a real job?”

“Never. I’m so fucking proud of you. I know I’m your dad, but becoming an adult means you have to stand up to me too about the things you really want. We won’t always agree and that’s okay.”

Our walk is a lot lighter after that and we can enjoy the scenery instead of dealing with a bundle of nerves. I can’t believe Dad is sixty-six. You’d never know it. I’m supposed to be the young pro athlete and he does just fine keeping up with me as we traverse the gravel walkway and inhale the salty air coming off the water in English Bay.

* * *

Iget ready for our date way too early and I’m far too stressed over what to wear for a guy who’s seen me in sweaty hockey gear night after night. Dad—hippie slash hipster Dad—watches me, filled with anxiety on my behalf.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about this boy, even a little?”

I’m the baby of the family so even at twenty-four, I’m babied and protected like I was when I was little. People get into patterns, and they keep them without knowing they’re there.

“He’s a man, Dad. He’s older than the twins.”

Dad bites his lip. “Sorry. I know you’re a grown man, but you’re making me feel like it’s your first hockey game all over again.”

“No, I’m sorry.” I sigh. “I was trying not to make it a big deal, but in doing that I’ve made it a bigger deal than it is.”

I’m also hyping myself up. It’s only Mercy. We’ve had a lot of sex. I’ve had my mouth all over his body and his junk—especially his junk. He’s whispered the dirtiest things in my ear in the damn locker room. “I think I like him, Dad. I haven’t felt like this with someone maybe ever.”

There. Now, Dad knows my secret. Saying it out loud doesn’t feel as good as I hoped it would and I wish I could take it back. Shit like that gains momentum once it’s released into the world. I’m undecided as to whether I want it to.

He fixes my unruly hair. I should go no ball cap, but do I really want to put gel and crap in my hair to tame it? No. If things go the way I’m hoping, Merc’s just gonna mess it to hell anyway. Ball cap it is.