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Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Maddie,

I meant to write to you the week I left, but I couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to say.

Then I realized I needed to thank you for coming to my house that day.

Not sure how you got my address (sound familiar?), but I’m grateful.

I didn’t know I needed you until I saw you sitting on the front step.

I’m not in Vancouver. Right now I’m in Montana with a couple of guys I used to play Juniors with. We rented a place near Flathead Lake. It’s quiet. Still too cold to get out on the water, but we’ve been catching up. Doing a bit of fishing.

That makes me think of my dad, surprisingly. It was one of the only things he did with me when I was little that didn’t make me afraid of him.

Sorry. That was depressing.

Let me make up for it by telling you something I meant to tell you in the study room, but every time I thought to, I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it.

You’ve always scared the hell out of me.

Not in a bad way. But you were always such a hard worker. You’d sacrifice sleep or parties when you had homework. You’d sit at that kitchen counter until the middle of the night if you didn’t understand a problem (I know because that’s when I usually wandered in).

And watching that made me feel like I’d been skating through half of my life. Like maybe I only ever gave fifty percent. But there you were, giving a hundred and ten without blinking. When I moved up in hockey, that memory lit a fire under me. It made me want to be better.

You asked why I didn’t contact you about the tutoring.

Well, that’s why. I felt threatened. I was watching my players sink and wasn’t making any headway with administration.

Then you waltzed in telling me my plan sucked (my words, not yours) and there you were showing me up again.

It took me a few days to swallow my pride.

Then when you walked into that committee meeting? I felt about two centimetres high.

I’m sorry I didn’t email. It was a soft play. Hoping this letter makes up for it.

Chase

P.S. Do you wear the sweatshirt or is it sitting in your room somewhere?

_____

Chase,

Sometimes I think you’re remembering someone who’s not me. It’s flattering that you had such a high opinion of me. The truth is, I didn’t have many parties to sacrifice, and I struggled with insomnia. So math was kind of an escape. I know, total nerd.

I’ve never been good at sitting in uncertainty.

I like knowing things. Predicting outcomes.

Making sense of the information I have access to.

You’ve never made sense, and sometimes that’s still a bit maddening.

Just when I think I have you figured out, I find out you’re volunteering with a youth organization or you’re known for being a stickler for grades with the Outlaws (gasp).

I’d like to tell you I didn’t think your plan sucked, but you got me there. However, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you told me. About a university team being a hockey player’s plan B and how they might only get these last couple of years.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, but it’s crazy to me that a sport like this, one these players love so much, would just end.

I’m so sorry it ended for you. I know there are some things beyond our control, but maybe some things aren’t.

Maybe we shouldn’t let go of the things we love so easily.

Anyway. Weekend thoughts. I hope you’re having a blast in Montana. Your letter more than makes up for your momentary lapse in judgement. Just don’t do it again.

Maddie

P.S. I would wear it but I don’t want it to stop smelling like you.