Page 126 of Slap Shot
I put my hand over my chest. My heart is racing a mile a minute, and I don’t think it’s going to slow down any time soon. Not as long as he’s in the picture.
“Thank you,” I say.
His smile curves into a beam. It’s brilliantly bright, brilliantly beautiful. When he says, “It’s an honor, Maddie,” I know he means it.
It takesa bubble bath and doing my full skin care routine to feel like myself again. An hour and a half later, I’m ready to conquer the parts of the world I’ve shut out.
I open my bedroom door, peering into the hall. It’s eerily quiet in the condo, and I strain to hear any signs of life.
“Hudson?” I call out, but I don’t get an answer.
Frowning, I walk to the kitchen. When I get there, I stop in my tracks. It’s spotless. The dishes are put away. There’s not a trace of sauce anywhere on the counter or cabinets. The smell of burnt onion has been replaced with a hint of orange and vanilla, and I wonder if I stepped into an alternate universe.
My eyes move to the island where a bouquet of beautiful red roses sit. I break out into a grin, reaching for them. I run my fingers along the petals and long stems, trying to remember the last time I had fresh flora in my house. It’s been months. Years, maybe, and the sight of them makes my stomach do a giddy somersault.
My admiration gets broken up by a laugh floating down the hall. There’s the clap of small hands, a giggle I know with my whole soul.
I greedily follow the nosies, pausing outside Lucy’s room when I make it there. I peer inside, finding her and Hudsonsitting on the floor in the middle of her bright pink rug. An army of Barbies are in front of them, from Astronaut Barbie to Pop Star Barbie.
Lucy hands Hudson one with a flashy gold dress. He pretends to have her dance, making Lucy giggle, and every part of me is warm.
“Hey,” I say. Hudson lifts his chin to look at me. His face breaks out into a beam that wrinkles the corners of his eyes and scrunches his nose. He taps Lucy’s shoulder and points my way.Hi, baby girl.
Lucy stands and runs to me. Little arms wrap around my middle, and everything is right in the world again.
We’re playing dolls.
Are you having fun?
Yes.She sighs and rests her cheek against my stomach, and I can’t find any of the tears she had earlier.I’m sorry for being mean.
You weren’t mean. You’re allowed to be sad sometimes.
We cleaned the kitchen! Did you see?
It looks so good in there. Did you pick out the flowers?
No. That was him. He said they’d make you smile.Lucy reaches up and touches my cheek.Did you smile?
So much.
Lucy runs back to her dolls. I focus my attention on Hudson, who is watching us. “You got me flowers?” I ask.
“Yeah.” In the cozy yellows of Lucy’s room, I can see his ears turn pink. His cheeks do, too. “My dad used to buy my mom flowers whenever she had a hard day. Even if there was already a bouquet in the kitchen, he’d show up with more.” He pauses, the silence thick, then continues. “In the end, her whole hospital room was covered in vases. I think he hoped the flowers would bring him some miracle.”
The tattoo on his leg makes so much sense now. It’s not random artwork or a drunken mistake he’ll regret five years down the road.
They’re parts of his mom he carries with him, and to know he’s treating me like his dad treated her makes me feel lucky. Like I’m one in seven billion.
“Maybe she has a garden now. A place up there where she can plant her own flowers and smile nonstop.”
“That—” Hudson swallows. He plays with the dress of the Barbie he’s holding then rubs his jaw. “That’s a really nice thought. I hope she does.”
“I don’t know if anyone’s ever bought me flowers.”
“Ever? Not even?—”
“Not that I can remember. They’re beautiful. Roses are my favorite. Cliché, I know. But I don’t care.”
