Page 23 of Your Love (Merrimack Mavericks Hockey #3)

Chapter 23

“Whatever It Takes”

Landry - Age 19, 1989

“ I ’m sorry about all of this, Landry,” Kerri’s dad says.

He called my hotel last night and asked to meet this morning before heading back to the hospital. When he called, I was sitting on the uncomfortable hotel bed, the cheap, itchy bedspread scratching the back of my legs. I didn’t care. All I could do was stare at the blank wall in front of me and wait for someone to tell me what was going on.

“I appreciate you calling me, Mr. Thatcher.” I sit back in my chair and blow out a breath.

“Please call me Charlie,” he replies with a warm smile. His eyes crinkle at the corners, just like Earl’s do. Their mannerisms are uncannily similar, from the way they tilt their heads when thinking to the slight lilt in their voices when they speak. These people exude an inherent genuineness that is hard to find nowadays. Kerri once described them as the “salt of the Earth,” and I can’t help but agree.

“So they said she’ll get her memory back soon?”

“Well, you know how doctors are,” Charlie responds with a small shrug. “They never want to commit to anything concrete. All we know is that it will happen eventually, but no one can say for sure when.” His eyes hold a hint of frustration, but he still attempts to sound optimistic.

“But she’s still scared of me?” I ask. I might as well rip my heart out of my chest at the thought.

“She’s scared of the jumbled-up memories of her mind.” He clarifies. When he asked me to join him for a cup of coffee, I knew he’d have some heavy things to tell me. I never could have anticipated we’d be dealing with this. I’m still trying to process the information, but I’m not a stranger to brain injuries after what happened to Paisley. I’m fucking tired of it.

“How’s her friend doing?” I ask.

“Looks like she’s going to recover as well,” he says, “although it’s going to be a longer process physically for her since she was on the side of the car that was hit.”

I hear his words, but I’m having a difficult time focusing. My gaze wanders over his shoulder, drawn to the colorful display of knick-knacks and mismatched coffee cups lining the shelves. The room is filled with a hazy warmth, almost like a dream. “It’s a peculiar coincidence, don’t you think?” I finally manage to respond, my voice just above a whisper.

Charlie regards me curiously. “What is?”

My hand grazes the rough stubble on my chin, a nervous habit I’ve developed recently. “Kerri was supposed to be on that side of the car. Have they found the driver of the other car?”

A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he shakes his head. His fingers tightly grip his steaming black coffee. He sets it down with a thud, the sound breaking the uneasy silence. “No,” he replies, his voice strained with worry. “I’ve thought about it, too, but right now, we have to focus all our energy on Kerri getting better.”

“Do you think she even wants to see me?” My heart sinks at the thought of causing her more pain and fear. I love her so much, and I can’t bear to be the source of her suffering again.

“She said she wants to speak with you today,” he says, his voice gentle and full of concern. “My daughter has always been fiercely protective of those she cares about. She can’t stand to see anyone in pain, especially when she feels responsible for it. She wants to talk to you, even if she doesn’t fully understand the situation.” He takes a sip of his coffee before continuing. “But I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass—this is going to be difficult for you.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips despite my heavy heart. “No need for any ass smoke, Sir,” I reply. “Honestly, my feelings don’t matter right now. All that matters is how Kerri is doing. That’s all I care about.”

“Good man!” He exclaims. His hand lands on the wooden table with a resounding slap, emphasizing his words. “My parents have always spoken highly of you, claiming that you’re a great guy who truly loves my daughter.” His mood turns somber as he pauses. “I haven’t always been there to protect her, but I believe in our judgment when it comes to you. It’s clear to me how much you care for her, and that means everything to me. Just give her some time and space if she needs it.”

I nod in understanding. “So, I assume once she’s released from the hospital, she will be staying here with you?”

“Yes. Everyone seems to think familiar things should surround her as she recovers from her physical injuries. She’ll spend the summer here with me and her mother. We’ll have to take next year of college one step at a time.”

I knew that was going to be the answer, the logical and right thing to do, but my heart feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice. The thought of not seeing her after I leave causes the panic to begin to riot in my chest. If she can’t remember me, I have no idea where our relationship will end up.

Charlie’s voice breaks through my swirling thoughts. “We better get to the hospital,” he says, his hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you again for meeting with me.”

“Of course, Landry. This will all work out. You have to give it time.”

“I’m a pretty patient guy,” I chuckle weakly as we make our way out of the coffee shop.

With a racing heart and sweaty palms, I step into the elevator and press the button for the third floor. My mind is consumed with fear as I make my way to Kerri’s room. I can’t bear to see that look of terror on her face again, knowing that I am the one who caused it. The memory of my sister disappearing under the ice years ago haunts me, but that image is just as unbearable. As I reach for the doorknob, my hands tremble, and I take a deep breath before entering.

Kerri’s sitting up in bed, her pale complexion from yesterday now flushed with a rosy hue. Her eyes sparkle with renewed energy and clarity. Maybe it’s finally knowing the extent of damage from the accident. At least now we have some idea what’s going on.

Beside her, her mother sits with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Kerri’s eyes hold a glimmer of vitality, a marked improvement from the previous day. She offers me a small smile, though it seems forced and lacking its usual warmth.

As I cautiously move further into the room, I make sure to keep my distance and avoid getting too close to her. My heart longs to rush to her and wrap her in my arms, but I know that would be a catastrophic mistake.

Her gaze rakes over me from head to toe, taking in every detail as if trying to remember. It brings back memories of our first encounter at the Farmers Market.

“Hi,” I say softly, mustering a weak wave. I feel completely lost and unsure of what to do or say.

Kerri’s voice was raspy but still holds a hint of sweetness as she replies, “Howdy.” Her slight smile tugs at my heartstrings, knowing the pain she must be feeling.

“I’m Landry,” I offer, attempting to match her cheery tone.

Her smile grows more genuine at my introduction. “That’s what they tell me,” she says with a soft chuckle.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than yesterday. I’m not in as much pain. Just a little frustrated that my brain isn’t working right.”

I nod sympathetically. My eyes drift to the stuffed chick toy I had brought for her yesterday, now nestled into her side on the hospital bed. “I’m glad you have Lou with you,” I say, smiling at the sight.

Kerri’s brows furrow in confusion, her blue eyes clouded with uncertainty. “Who?”

“The chicken,” I reply with a smile, pointing to the stuffed animal on her side. “I named her Lou after a baby chick on your grandparents’ farm.”

She glances down at the plush toy, then back up at me. Her expression reveals that she has no recollection of the event, but she responds politely nonetheless.

“It’s adorable,” she says, offering a small smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, leaning against the door and waiting to see where the conversation will go next.

Kerri looks at her mom. “Mama, would it be alright if Landry and I had a few moments alone?” Her voice is tentative yet determined.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I’m sure. Besides, the doctor said it’s best if we talk, so that’s what we should do.”

Her mother looks at her with weary eyes, lines of worry etched on her face. “It’s okay, Mama. I feel comfortable now. I may not remember everything, but I know rationally that I’m safe.”

“I’ll just be right outside if you need me.” As she walks by, she places a gentle hand on my shoulder and gives me a soft smile before continuing out the door.

“You can come over here,” Kerri says. “I’m still weak, and I’d rather not yell across the room.” Her voice is faint but determined as she motions for me to join her.

I move slowly and deliberately over to her side and then drop into the seat that her mother left unoccupied. I’m careful not to stand over her. My size is imposing as it is, and I’m self-aware enough to know that. I sit down and place my forearms on my knees.

“Could you share some details about Merrimack?” she asks eagerly, her eyes wide with curiosity. “I have faint memories from when I was a child, but they’re hazy. I’m hoping you can fill in the missing pieces for me.”

A warm smile spreads across my face as I reply, “Of course. You live on your family’s farm, and you’re a natural when it comes to taking care of all the animals. It’s awe-inspiring.”

Kerri’s face lights up with recognition. “Oh yes, Nana and Papa mentioned the farm when I spoke with them last night. They told me all about the new animals and how they’ve downsized.”

I nod before continuing, “And you’ve also made many close friends in town.

“I have?” she asks. “I remember wanting to keep everyone at a distance after what happened.”

I begin to relax more as we fall into conversation. “You did at first. But this group pulled you in. There are six of us, including you, and we’re very close friends. Some of us have known one another for years, and a couple found us in the last year of high school.”

“A couple?” she asks.

“Mhm. You and Ivy.”

She chews on her bottom lip. “I don’t remember. Who else is in this group?”

“My friends Taz and Delzy are also hockey players. They’re away at college. And you have a good friend named Sascha who’s also away at school. Ivy is in Merrimack, where I live.”

“I’ve gotten a few cards from them,” she says. “I haven’t read them yet.” She shrugs her shoulders. “It feels strange when I don’t remember them.”

“Makes sense,” I reply, looking down at my hands.

“Landry?”

At the sound of my name on her lips, I raise my gaze, and I’m met with determined blue eyes. They are bright and piercing, reflecting a sense of determination that was not there before. “You can look at me. I’m not scared anymore,” she speaks softly yet confidently.

I take in her appearance. Her body is adorned with bandages. “It’s difficult to see you like this,” I admit.

“Everyone says I’m going to get better, and this is the way to do it. So please look at me and tell me more about yourself.” And suddenly, the fire I know so well ignites within her once again.

“I go to State, and I’m the starting goaltender for the junior hockey team,” I share.

She looks intrigued but admits, “I don’t know much about hockey.”

I chuckle and she looks at me quizzically. “I actually taught you quite a bit. You know more than you realize.”

One side of her mouth quirks up in an apologetic smile.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind answering any questions that you have.”

“How long have we been dating?” she asks, her fingers absently twirling a strand of hair around them.

I wipe my sweaty palms against my jeans, trying to steady my nerves. “We’re getting straight into it,” I joke. “We were friends for about six months before we took the leap and started dating in November.” A fond smile tugs at my lips as I remember the night she confessed her feelings for me. She had been so nervous, her hands shaking as she bowled an eighty-nine at the bowling alley. She was so pissed off.

She wrestles with the sheets on her bed, pulling them with her fingers nervously. “Have we… had sex?” she asks.

I’m overcome with the need to express to her the depth of my feelings. Every time we’re together, it is as if the world stops spinning, and all that matters is the connection between our bodies. The way our hearts beat in sync conveys just how much we care for one another. But I tread carefully, not wanting to overwhelm her with flowery words or conjure up images in her mind that she may not want. So I simply answer, choosing my words carefully. “Yes, we dated for six months beforehand. We wanted to make sure you were ready and that everything was right.”

A warm hue spreads across her cheeks, a mix of both embarrassment and understanding. “I’m really sorry about all of this,” she says after a moment. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she looks up at me, her expression filled with sadness and guilt.

“Wildflower, you have nothing to be sorry about,” I blurt out, unable to contain the words any longer.

“Wildflower?”

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, shaking my head in frustration. “That’s my nickname for you.”

A genuine smile spreads across her face. “I like it,” she admits, the corners of her lips twitching upwards. “It looks like I’ll be here for a while,” she says, confirming what her father told me earlier. “So, I suppose you’ll be going back home soon?” she asks, her sadness returning.

“I’m not sure yet. The last thing I want to do is overwhelm you or frighten you in any way. But I feel that I belong wherever you are, and if that’s here, then maybe I should be here too.”

Kerri bites her lip and mulls over my words. “I don’t want you to put your life on hold. I don’t know how long all of this is going to take. Nobody knows. The doctors can’t give me any clear answers.”

I can make out the frustration in her voice. “I know that has to be so frustrating,” I tell her. “But you speak highly of this place, so maybe I can stick around and see what it’s all about?”

“What about hockey?” she asks. “Won’t you get into trouble?”

I shrug my shoulders. “It’ll be fine. Coach will understand.” I assure her. What I don’t tell her is that while he might understand, he won’t hold the spot for me. None of that matters to me right now. The only thing I care about is bringing my girl back to me.