Page 8 of Your Love (Merrimack Mavericks Hockey #3)

Chapter 8

“She’s So High”

Landry - Age 18, 1988

T he past two weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions. I’ve done my best to adjust to the idea that Kerri and I can only be friends. I’ve spent countless hours dissecting our every interaction, trying to understand her reasons for not wanting more.

The thought of losing her is unacceptable, so I’ve forced myself to push down my feelings and focus on being there for her as a friend. It isn’t easy, but I respect her too much to question her decision. If this is the only way I can keep her in my life, then I’ll make it work no matter how much it hurts.

Prom was a particularly eye-opening experience that showed me the lengths to which Kerri will go to show everyone she only wants to be friends. We rode together in a limo, and everyone was excited and hopeful for the future as we arrived in a flurry of laughter.

Delzy and Ivy walked in front of us, the only true couple, their fingers laced as we headed into the venue. The rest of us shuffled along, with Sascha and Kerri intentionally keep Taz and I at arm’s length. During pictures, they positioned themselves in a way that Sash stood in front of me, and Kerri stood in front of Taz. It wasn’t even a bit subtle, and we both got the hint.

I tried to act nonchalant, but every time I caught a glimpse of Kerri laughing, my heart ached that I wasn’t the one to put that smile on her face. Toward the end of the dance, Taz suggested he ask Kerri to dance. I knew what it was—his way of trying to get back at Sash. I gave my blessing, with the caveat that his hands had to stay in a neutral position so that I didn’t have to beat his ass.

I watched from afar as he effortlessly held her in his arms for three minutes. He laughed at something she said, and it pissed me off that he got that time with her. It hurt, knowing that their dance was purely platonic while my feelings for her grew more complicated with each passing second.

Afterward, Taz pulled me to the side. “Dude, I spent the past few minutes dancing with that girl, and I’m telling you, you two will be perfect together. She’s like some sort of crazy Disney princess, and you’re the epitome of Prince Charming. It’s perfect.”

“Epitome?” I repeated with a surprised look on my face.

“What? I know some big words,” he said, puffing out his chest.

I chuckled and then hit him with the hard truth. “She’s sworn off relationships.”

He shook his head, unfazed. “I don’t care what she says. It’s going to happen with that girl. Don’t give up.”

It was a rare moment of sincerity from my friend, who’s grown up so much in the past few months. I suspect Sash has something to do with that, but neither of them is willing to talk about what’s going on between them.

“Thanks, bro,” I told him. And then, just like prom night came to a close, so did everything else.

Not long after, we graduated, and all hell broke loose. Ever since the night we officially said goodbye to Merrimack High School, our tight-knit group of friends has been unraveling.

Ivy and Delzy, the couple that seemed invincible, called it quits. Delzy is leaving for college in Boston next week, leaving Ivy behind. She said she couldn’t go with him, despite his repeated requests. She wasn’t ready, and in the end, he understood. It’s no one’s fault—it’s just shitty timing.

Taz and Sascha had a major falling out, and Taz ended up crashing at Delzy’s house until he left a few days ago. I’m not sure exactly what happened, but the truce they had reached is forgotten.

All of a sudden, the promise that Kerri and I made NOT to get romantically involved seems to have evolved into a brilliant spark in the wake of everyone else’s relationships imploding one by one.

While everyone else is going their own way, she and I have been grabbing lunch, going to the movies, and just enjoying summer. I’m hoping I can bring Pais over to visit the farm. Those animals are something else. My favorite is a rooster named Colonel Cocky, who chased Taz on prom night. I’ll never forget his screams as he ran bare-assed in the moonlight through a field from an angry, balding rooster. I’ve never felt more respect for an animal in my entire life.

It’s been a couple of days since I’ve seen her and I miss my friend, so I dial the familiar number, and after two rings, an aged voice answers. “Hello?” It’s Kerri’s grandfather, Earl.

“Hello, Sir,” I say with a shaky breath. “It’s Landry.”

“Landry, if you don’t stop it with that ‘Sir’ business, you’ll be the next one on Cocky’s list.”

I chuckle. “Sorry, Sir—I mean Earl. Is Kerri home?”

“She is home, but she’s been grumbling around here all day. She has her monthly bill, and she’s meaner than a wet panther.”

“Is a wet panther mean?”

“Damn straight, is it,” he confirms. “So, yes, she’s here, but I don’t think she’s good company given, you know, her situation.”

The next thing I hear is Kerri yell, “PAPA! What are you telling him?”

“I was telling him the truth, Kerri Ann—that you’re not feeling well, on account of your period and all—“

“OH MY GOD!”

Suddenly, the line goes dead. I’m actually worried for Earl’s safety. If this is what a wet panther is like, I think he might be right. So, today may not be the day to bring Paisley over, but that doesn’t mean I can’t visit her. I’m risking my life, but it’s worth it.

An hour later, my pickup rattles down the dirt road, kicking up dirt and dust as I drive to Kerri’s house. The bag of supplies I brought shifts around in the backseat, and I slow down so they won’t tumble out.

I catch sight of Kerri’s grandparents over by the barn as I climb out of my truck. They seem to be in deep conversation, so I continue on to the front door. When I reach it, I knock loudly to announce my arrival before turning the knob and letting myself into the house.

“Hello?” My voice echoes through the quiet rooms. A small, muffled squeak echoes from the living room as I make my way towards it.

“Landry?” I hear her voice, barely audible over the sound of the television.

Stepping into the room, my eyes are immediately drawn to the form lying on the couch, cocooned in a thick brown blanket. Only her head and the wild, messy bun perched atop it are visible. As I approach, I can see her face peering out from under the covers.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I reply. “I came by to visit you, and I brought provisions.” I hold up a bag of supplies that I brought along. The living room is dimly lit, casting shadows across her features and giving the room a cozy, intimate feel.

Her eyebrows furrow in skepticism as she asks me, “What do you mean you brought provisions?”

I can’t help but smile as I set the brown paper bag on the coffee table and begin to dramatically remove items one by one. “First, we have chips,” I state, placing the bag on the table. “They’re nice and salty.”

She perks up at the sound of her favorite snack and peeks out a bit more from her cozy blanket cocoon.

“Next, some herbal tea and chocolate,” I continue, holding up the box for her to see. Her interest is visibly piqued as I pull out a bar of rich milk chocolate.

“Wait, there’s more,” I tease, revealing a familiar blue box of macaroni and cheese. Finally, I reach into the bag and withdraw two items: Midol and a heating pad. As she watches with growing curiosity, I place them carefully on the table next to the other goodies.

Kerri’s jaw falls open in disbelief, her eyes widening in astonishment. “Are you for real?”

“Yes, I am,” I reply with a teasing grin. “So, did I successfully tempt you into spending time with me?”

Her lips curl into a playful smirk as she challenges me. “Only if you promise to make that mac and cheese.”

“I can do that.”

“Well, then, you can stay as long as you’d like. But fair warning, I’m not the best company,” she says with a self-deprecating chuckle.

I shrug. “I don’t mind. We can watch movies and lounge around all day.” As I speak, I imagine us cuddled up on the couch together. The thought brings a warmth to my chest. I shouldn’t allow it, but I couldn’t push it down if I tried.

Kerri’s face lights up with joy. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Christian Landry, but I’m happier than a pig in mud that you’re my friend.”

A hearty laugh escapes my lips as I shake my head in amusement.

“What?” She asks.

“You and your grandpa,” I reply, a smile still playing on my lips. “Always comparing things to animals.”

“What did he say?” she asks, the curiosity evident in her tone.

“He said you were meaner than a wet panther,” I reply.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she releases a hearty laugh. “Well then, I’ll have to show him how fierce a wet panther can be.”

As the sun sets in a blaze of oranges and pinks, Kerri’s grandparents venture out for dinner, leaving Kerri and me to commandeer the couch. For hours now, we’ve been perched in our designated spots, engrossed in a marathon of movies.

The coffee table is a chaotic scene, littered with empty snack wrappers and discarded drinks. Kerri has propped her feet up on my lap, and I massage them as we watch “The Lost Boys.”

“This movie is incredible,” she exclaims

.“It was filmed in Santa Cruz. I’ve always wanted to visit,” I reply.

Kerri’s voice is wistful as she gazes at the television screen. The vampires have woken up for the night and are flying over the coastline. “The beaches in California look so beautiful,” she sighs. “Promise me we’ll go someday.”

“Pinky swear,” I say with a grin, and she eagerly reaches out to grip my finger with her own.

“Pinky swear,” she echoes, a smile spreading across her face.

“So, can I bring Paisley over soon?” I ask.

“Absolutely!” Kerri exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe she can come over on Friday?”

“Friday sounds good,” I reply. Then, because I feel like we need to make sure we’re on the same page, I tell her, “You might have noticed, but my sister doesn’t talk.”

She sits up straighter, her gaze locking onto mine. “I did notice she was quiet at the farmers market, but I had no idea she never speaks.”

“She used to,” I tell her, my voice tinged with sadness. “But it’s been years now.”

Her gaze is curious and compassionate as she asks, “Does she use sign language? I learned sign language.” The line of her mouth softens into a gentle smile.

“You know sign language?” I ask in surprise. Kerri shrugs, her fingers already starting to move in fluid gestures. Her strawberry blonde hair falls across her face, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she communicates with her hands.

“I learned it at my last school,” she explains. “It was an elective option, and I thought it would be interesting and useful.”

This girl never ceases to amaze me. “Yeah,” I say, “We can sign, but we’ve been discouraged from using it too much because the doctors don’t want her to rely on it.”

Her eyebrows knit together, creating deep furrows on her forehead as she struggles to understand.

Okay, here we go. I swallow hard before I begin.

“She has the ability to speak, but she chooses not to.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” Kerri asks gently.

Looking into her bright blue eyes, so full of understanding and compassion, I can feel my walls crumbling. My usual instinct to shut people out and change the subject disappears in her presence. For the first time in a long time, I want to let someone in.

“It was a family trip to Wisconsin about eight years ago,” I begin. “We were all out on the frozen lake, skating and having fun. Paisley was off to the side, pretending to be a figure skater, twirling and singing at the top of her lungs.” I take a shaky breath. “And then, she wasn’t there anymore. Just...gone.”

Kerri’s breath catches in her throat as her hands shoot up to cover her gaping mouth. Tears well up in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“I didn’t realize at first. She was singing, and then it got quiet. So damn quiet. I knew something was wrong. And then, I heard her screaming. She was screaming my name.” I shake my head at the memory and work to calm the panic rising within me. “I skated as fast as I could, cutting through the ice, skating hard, so hard, I didn’t notice the ice cracking everywhere. I was about to reach her when the ice broke beneath me.”

“Landry,” she whispers.

I trudge on, my mind drifting back to a moment I try to forget. The memory is vivid, like a movie playing in my head. I can see myself falling into the dark water.

“The pain was unbearable, like being strangled by a thousand icy fingers. But it wasn’t a deterrent. If anything, the pain pushed me further. My only focus was getting Paisley out of there. It was nearly impossible to see anything. Somehow, I managed to swim down and pull her up by her jacket. I must have been working on adrenaline because I managed to lift her out of the water to where my dad and some others were waiting. It took them a little longer to get to me, but they got me out, as well. Other than mild hypothermia, a broken wrist, and some bumps and bruises, I was fine.”

Kerri’s voice is soft and caring as she places a comforting hand on my arm. “And what about Paisley?” she asks, her eyes full with concern.

“Pais also had hypothermia. She had broken ribs from CPR. But the doctors were concerned about the amount of time she was without oxygen, so they ran all kinds of tests. They reassured us that everything looked fine, but when she regained consciousness, her voice was silent, as if it had been taken away by the icy water.”

Kerri tilted her head, questioning, “Why won’t she speak?”

“Now see, that’s the puzzle. Even with a very minor brain injury, she should be able to talk. She can make sounds, so her vocal cords work fine, and she understands everything you say to her.”

“I’m so sorry, Landry,” she says sincerely. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s psychological. She’s been scared of the dark ever since that day, and she refuses to use her voice. The last thing she ever said was my name, and I barely got to her in time. Maybe she just doesn’t think anyone cares about her voice.”

“Now you listen to me, Christian Landry,” Kerri says, positioning herself in front of me. She kneels and places her hands on my knees. “That little girl looks up to you like a superhero. You were only ten years old when you saved her life. Do you understand how incredibly brave that was?”

I’ve heard my parents say these same words repeatedly, but I find them impossible to believe. “It wasn’t enough.”

With a determined tone, she speaks firmly. “I may not know everything, but I do know one thing for sure. Accidents happen. Tragic events occur every day. But you stopped a catastrophe. Your sister survived, thanks to your quick actions. So don’t you dare sit here and blame yourself for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I hear you,” I say, my voice lightened with a gentle chuckle. “It’s just hard. We keep waiting for her to speak, to break the silence that has been weighing on us. And every day that she doesn’t, it feels like our hopes are slowly fading away.”

“But it will happen.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” she says with a confident nod. Her eyes gleam with determination, and I do not doubt that she believes what she’s saying. “I’ve seen the way her eyes flicker when she looks at something she likes. She has something important to say.” She pauses, her expression serious. “She wants to talk. She will.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Is that when you discovered your talent for being a goalie?” she inquires, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I cock my head to the side, not quite sure where this conversation is heading. “I don’t follow the question.”

She smiles. “You’re naturally protective. It seems like being a goalie would come easily for you.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “What? Now you know about hockey?”

Her grin widens as she playfully nudges me. “Oh yeah, you guys talk about it all the time. I was bound to pick it up eventually.”

“That’s an interesting question. I’m not sure. I was probably headed that way anyway because of my size, but it’s possible,” I say with a shrug.

“What do you think about when you’re playing?”

“Honestly, nothing,” I reply with a grin. “I drown out everything but the puck.”

She nods in understanding. “Must be tough to concentrate for so long.” She observes.

A small laugh escapes me as I admit, “It can be at times. But I love it.”

“I still think you’d make a great linebacker.”

I shoot her a playful glare, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “You had to bring up football, didn’t you?” I say in mock annoyance. “What did I tell you about that?”

She throws her head back and laughs, causing her hair to bounce around her face. “Oh, no!” She jumps up and tries to make a run for it, but I quickly catch her and wrap my arms around her waist. With one arm holding her tightly against me, I use my other hand to tickle her side. She squirms and shrieks with laughter.

I release her from my grip, and we both collapse in a heap onto the carpet, our laughter echoing through the room. In that moment, all of the tension and seriousness from our earlier conversation fades away.”

I gaze at the beautiful person beside me. “Promise me we’ll always be friends.”

“We will always be friends. I promise,” she says.