Page 34

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Maddie,

Vancouver is beautiful. I’m staying with my friend Turtle and his wife.

(Don’t ask how he got that name.) They’re expecting their first baby.

Kind of wild to talk with him about becoming a dad.

Rob was talking about Sharla expecting a baby in the fall, and all I could think was they seem so young.

Then I realized I’m barely a couple of years older and felt like a poser. (Watch out. Graduation ages you.)

The idea of having a family has always been a tough one for me. I never thought I’d want kids. Or to get married, even. I know, strange, considering what good examples I had of an excellent relationship.

But our conversations, as they always do, made me think. For a couple of years now, I’ve wondered what I have to offer the world (besides killer abs. You’re welcome). I wish I had a little of your confidence.

Chase

P.S. I think about you opening the door in only a T-shirt at least once a week.

_____

I stared at my application for the Rhodes still sitting on my nightstand, then looked back at the papers I held in my hands. I signed the application, but these were signed by Lamont.

It had taken me three days to write up a proposal. Once I put pen to paper, the ideas wouldn’t stop coming. I took it to Kowalski, and we made a few adjustments, and then I’d presented everything to Lamont by the weekend.

I couldn’t quite believe it. He’d accepted my proposal, and I was set to move forward with the help of dedicated university resources in the next month if I wanted to.

It was strange. I’d been working toward applying for the Rhodes all year, and yet this idea that I’d stumbled upon had more forward momentum.

I blew out a breath. It was time I had an actual conversation with my mother.

I dialed my mom’s number, then stretched the phone cord across the hall and into my room, closing the door.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom.”

Her voice brightened. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

“I know, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier.”

She scoffed. “Maddie, I’m not your insurance company. I don’t want to be a burden.”

I sat on the floor pressing my back against the wall.

Ever since the hockey game, she’d been trying hard to not impose on my time.

It only made me feel like a jerk. “You’re not a burden, Mom.

I love you. I’ve just been—” My voice caught.

I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’ve been a little confused.”

“Oh, Maddie. Just a second.” Something rustled on the speaker. “Okay, I’m sitting down.”

I opened the floodgates. I told her my feelings about Chase, the hurt that followed his leaving, my work with the Outlaws and my proposal for the league, then finished with the application sitting on my desk. When I finished, she was quiet a moment.

“I’m a little concerned . . .” she started, and I jumped in.

“About the scholarship? Chase?”

Mom laughed. “The combination of the two. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about those high school years wondering if I did everything wrong. If I shouldn’t have let Chase and his dad move in?—”

“Mom, the last thing you need to worry about is me. You went through so much.”

“I know, but I never thought?—”

“Nothing happened. I just . . . was a little obsessed with him.” I winced at the admission.

Mom sighed. “I guess I understand that. He’s always been so charming.” That was one way to say it. “But now I think I’m more concerned that you’re making this choice on the hopes that something will happen with him.”

I nodded. “I thought of that too. But I don’t think that’s it.” I’d run the thought experiments, and if Chase didn’t ever come back to Calgary, I still wasn’t feeling the same excitement.

“Sometimes dreams are hard work. I don’t want you to give up too soon,” she mused.

“I know.” Again. Same thoughts.

“But . . . “ She drew a breath. “I trust you, Maddie. You’ve always made good decisions for yourself. Sometimes to the point that I wondered if you were human like the rest of us.”

I laughed, wiping my eyes.

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing to make some mistakes, you know.”

A knock sounded at my door, and I jumped. “I make plenty of mistakes, I promise.” I pushed up from the floor. “Mom, Crystal just got here.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Thank you so much for talking.”

“Anytime.”

I opened the door and let the phone cord retract. “I love you, Mom.” Somehow, while he hadn’t come to any conclusions, I felt lighter.

“Love you, too.”

I hung up and rushed back to grab my sweatshirt. I would’ve loved to wear Chase’s, but half the guys would recognize it. Plus, I didn’t want it to get smoky.

“Ready?” Crystal stood grinning on my step as I swung open the door. “Because she’s ready.” Crystal held her hands out like Vanna White, and I squealed.

“You didn’t tell me it was red!” I grabbed my purse from the side table and ran out to inspect her new car. After a full walk about with appropriate “oohing” and “aahing,” I settled into the passenger seat.

Shania Twain thudded through the speakers of Crystal’s cherry red 1991 Pontiac Sunbird as we pulled away from the curb.

The inside smelled faintly of vanilla air freshener.

It had only two working windows and a radio with the tuning knob missing, but Crystal had installed a flower-patterned steering wheel cover and seat beads that clicked when she moved.

“It’s amazing!” I called out over the chorus.

She grinned back at me, her hair blowing in the breeze from her cracked window.

It was dusk when we arrived at Nick’s family ranch. Our headlights bounced as the sunbird crunched over gravel, spitting up dust. We were fifteen minutes past the last strip of Calgary development, and now it was all wide fields and barbed wire fences.

When we pulled up next to the barn, the yard was already full.

Trucks lined the dirt drive, their tailgates down and stereos low.

The smell of grilled burgers mingled with smoke from the bonfire roaring in a pit out back.

Strings of mismatched lights were draped between fence posts. Someone had even hauled out a couch.

This was one of many events someone on the team would be hosting over the summer. A night like this is what pulled me into the Outlaws circle in the first place. Shar dragged me to play shinny on Nick’s frozen pond during the winter of 1993, and I’d been hooked.

I walked with Crystal toward the fire where Rob and Shar were tucked into a pair of lawn chairs, her feet on his lap.

As soon as Shar saw us, she swung her legs down and hopped up to greet us both with hugs.

“Your boobs are bigger.” I laughed, pulling back to inspect her.

“They totally are,” she whisper-laughed. “I told Rob to enjoy it before I have the belly to go with them.”

Crystal scoffed. “Whatever, he’s going to love that even more.”

I glanced over to see Rob watching Shar. He was smitten. Completely and totally wrapped around her finger.

The rest of the night buzzed with games and laughter.

The guys got into a heated competition playing tailgate flip cup using a broken hockey stick as a baton.

Someone dared Axel to race Bear down the gravel drive on foot, which resulted in a spectacular wipeout and Bear carrying him back fireman-style while everyone howled.

Crystal and I dominated at horseshoes, which was really the only important thing to remember.

It was past midnight when the chatter quieted and the group began to thin. Shar stood talking with a friend of Bear’s, and Crystal was curled up in the bed of someone’s truck with what looked like three other people watching the stars.

Rob and I jumped in to help Nick gather empties and fold up chairs. The fire had dwindled to embers. Bugs whispered in the grass, and the air had that soft chill that meant dew was settling in.

Rob tossed a crumpled paper plate into a garbage bag and nudged a bottle cap with his foot. “You’ve been busy.”

I picked up a folded paper plate. “I know, sorry I haven’t been by to help with the nursery set up.”

Rob waved her off. “Almost done. You just need to come over and see it.”

“No way! I bet Shar’s thrilled.”

“That she is.” He held out the trash bag for me to drop in an empty pack of gum. “What did you end up deciding?”

I blinked, not understanding the question at first. When it clicked, my eyes widened. “Oh, did Shar not tell you? I decided to submit.”

His eyebrows shot sky high. “She didn’t. When do you find out?”

I grinned. “Found out today. It’s approved. I haven’t even had a chance to tell Shar yet.”

Rob smirked. “Finally. I get an update before she does. When do you start?”

I laughed and picked up a crushed can of Dr. Pepper from under the picnic table. The approval was real. The project was real. The excitement was real, too, but underneath it all, a familiar pressure had settled in the base of my chest.

What if no one signed up? Or worse, what if so many people did, we couldn’t accommodate them? What if I poured everything into it and then had to walk away in November?

Oxford had always been the dream. The big golden ticket. I’d been shaping my life around it for years. But the idea of leaving, especially now that I had the green light on this project, made my stomach twist. Would I have to drop this and never know if it could have worked?

I shoved the can into the bag and cleared my throat. “Can I ask you something?”

Rob looked over, curious. “Sure.”

“How did you do it?” I kept my voice light, but the question felt anything but. “How did you change direction? You worked so hard for that spot on the travel team then gave it up in a second.”

He didn’t answer right away, just tied off the trash bag. “It took more than a second to make that decision.” He walked over and set the bag next to the back corner of the barn. “It felt like a hard decision to make when I took everyone else’s ideas into account.”

“What do you mean?”

He wiped his hands on his jeans. “Everyone else thought this was the best thing for me. Everyone else had heard me talk about this scouting opportunity, about my dream to push to pro.” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Everyone knew Logan had just made it and I hadn’t.”

I slipped my hands into my back pockets. That sounded familiar.

“But if I let go of that and looked at my own thoughts, it was simple.” He shrugged. “The second I saw that pregnancy test, hockey wasn’t my dream anymore. So I didn’t have to give it up. Just got to start chasing something new.”

_____

I thanked Crystal for the ride—it felt so weird that she was driving me now—and hurried inside my apartment. The lights were off, so I slipped off my shoes and crept down the hall, not wanting to wake anyone.

In my room, the glow from the streetlight edged past the curtains and painted a bright line across my desk. And there they were. Exactly where I’d left them: the Rhodes application on one side, the proposal from Lamont on the other.

Dropping my purse next to the chair, I sat on the edge of the bed and closed my eyes.

What I would’ve given to have Chase there running a hand up my arm, telling my mind to be still.

I did the best I could in his absence, forcing myself to notice the quilt beneath my palms, the carpet under my feet.

“No, thank you,” I whispered to the hundreds of thoughts still clamouring for attention, raising a din over the past two weeks. Being with Chase didn’t solve my overthinking, but simply knowing there was another option was enough to make me stronger.

I could do this, at least in part. As my mind settled, I listened to Rob’s advice. What did I think?

I’m not sure how long I sat there, but once the clouds began to part, it was exactly as Rob described.

Easy.

I turned on the desk lamp and sat down, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper. I started with Chase’s name, then let everything pour out of me.

When I finished, I set the pen down and picked up my application, sealed in its envelope. Then, I dropped it into the trash.