Page 152 of Slap Shot
Madeline
I’m so glad. I hope you have fun. We’ll be here when you get back.
We miss you.
Me
Been missing you since the minute I left you, knife girl.
We landin Georgia around two in the morning after a flight delay, and I toss and turn fitfully in the hotel bed. I always sleep poorly when I’m here, and I’m hit with the same mix of emotions that creep up—nerves, anger. The dread of knowing no matter how many times I come back, it’s not going to change the past.
I get up around six, aware I’m awake hours before my alarm with no hope of drifting back to sleep. I’m tired. My body hurts and my stomach growls, but I can’t sit still. I can’t turn my brain off, and after twenty minutes of scrolling through rental cars, I snag a truck to pick up thirty minutes from now.
I throw on a baseball hat, a hoodie, and jeans. Grabbing my phone, I open the door and stop in my tracks when I find Maverick sitting on the carpet in the hall.
His eyes are closed. His head is against the wall and his hands are folded over his chest. I take a step toward him, gently nudging his knee with my foot and waking him up.
“Hey, Huddy.” He groans and stretches his legs. “Was wondering when you were going to roll out of bed.”
“What are you doing here?” I look up and down the hall, confused. I don’t know what I expect to find, but it’s empty except for us. “Are you okay? Is Emmy okay? Please don’t tell me Coach sent you here to break some news about a trade.”
“Come on, man.” He holds out his hand, and I pull him to his feet. “Do you really think I’d let you visit her by yourself?”
“How did you know where I was going?”
“You’re my best friend. You’re not going to come to Georgia and not see your mom,” he says. “I figured you’d want an early start because of the skate we have scheduled at noon. I have a car downstairs, coffee in the cup holders, and some flowers I grabbed from a gas station.”
A weight pushes on my shoulders. The air in my lungs struggles to escape. A laugh rattles out of me, and I reach for him. He hugs me tight and I hug him back, not letting go until my eyes stop stinging.
“Thank you, Mav,” I manage to get out, grateful my best friend doesn’t say a word about my tears.
“We’re family, Hud. That’s what we do.” He squeezes me another few seconds then lets go. “Let’s get a move on. Wehave a busy day, and I refuse to lose tonight when your mom is watching.”
The driveto Kennesaw is quick on a Saturday morning without any traffic.
We talk about our game and the upcoming Frozen Four regional games in a few weeks. He turns the stereo up and we sing along with Noah Kahan and Shaboozey at the top of our lungs while we sip our coffee and pass through half a dozen towns.
The sun warms up the earth and makes everything look alive even deep in late February. When we pull up to the cemetery just after seven, I feel… good. Great, almost, and I know it’s because I’m not doing this alone.
Maverick puts the car in park and grabs a bouquet from the back seat. It’s an arrangement of tulips and daffodils tied together with a nice bow, and I know Mom would’ve loved the bright colors.
“I’ll wait for you here,” he says, cranking up the seat heaters. “But if you need me, just shout.”
Maverick’s come to the gravesite with me before. On the one-year anniversary of her passing and again at year four. I’m in the mood to talk with her today, though, and I wonder if Maverick can sense I need some time alone.
“I’ll be back soon,” I tell him, fumbling for the door. “And come get me if Coach moves up practice.”
“Nah, man. He’ll understand. Take as long as you need.”
I slip out of the car and walk down the gravel path I’ve memorized after dozens of visits. Everything looks exactly the same as it did during my last trip with the tall grass and thebig trees. I spot her up ahead, and my pace increases. My heart hammers, and when I finally get to her, I smile.
“Hey, Mama.” I set the flowers on her headstone and sit on the grass. The chill in the air is gone, and I’m happy to bask in the sunshine. “Sorry it’s taken me so long to get back and visit. You know we won the Cup, but the summer after was busy. I handled the Junior Stars Kids’ Camp, and then my break was over.”
I tip my chin up and look at the sky. There’s not a cloud in sight, and I wonder if that’s her doing.
I bet it is.
The weather is always nice when I stop by, and I imagine it’s her way of asking me to stay a while.
