Page 153 of Slap Shot
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Mom. I mean, I’m always thinking about you, but I’m thinking about you more lately. I met someone, and she’s…” I trail off. “Incredible seems like such an insignificant word to use because she’s so much bigger than that, but sheisincredible. Her name is Madeline. She’s a single mom and has the cutest daughter. She’s also my private chef and living with me. We’re friends, but I think we could be more. I think we’re on our way there, but I don’t want to rush her.”
A breeze flits through the air, and I smile, pretending it’s Mom talking back. She’s calling me out on my bullshit line that we’re onlyfriends, and I agree with her.
“I’m learning sign language because Lucy—that’s her daughter—is deaf. I’m working with a tutor at Gallaudet University, and it’s really fucking hard. They deserve someone to put in that effort for them, though. Remember when you tried to get me to take French my freshman year of college? The only class I’ve ever failed, and you weren’t mad at me because at least I tried.”
I laugh again. This is so much better than my therapy sessions. It’s nice to talk to someone who can only listen. It’s nice to spill my guts.
“I really do miss you, Mama. I wish you were here so I could ask how I can be a better support system for Madeline. You always had the best advice. I’ve dated a few women since you passed, and the relationships were always… fine? I wasn’t unhappy or anything like that, but there wasn’t a spark, you know? Not like what you and Dad had, but maybe not everyone is lucky enough to have a love like yours. Maybe that’s a once-in-a-lifetime sort of phenomena, and us average folks won’t ever find it.”
I sigh and rub my forehead with one of my hands. I cross my ankles and close my eyes.
“I told Madeline about you. She shared a story about her shitty ex—sorry, I know you hate when people talk poorly about others, but he’s lower than low, Mom, and you’d agree with me—and I told her you got sick. She hugged me after and held me tight. It was nice.Sheis nice. She loves to cook, just like you, and she makes me happy. Happy in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever been. At least not since you left.”
I wonder if there will come a time when I accidentally miss a year the anniversary of her passing. I wonder if soon it’ll be fifteen, twenty years since she left, and I’ll start to lose the things I can’t see in photographs.
I’ll forget how her laugh sounds. I’ll struggle to remember the traditions she liked to keep at the holidays and what her hugs were like.
It feels like I’m drifting out to sea, away from her. The more time that goes by, the more difficult it is to get to the shore. I’m lost in the ocean with no hope of finding my way back to land.
“Maverick is in the car. He and Emmy have been trying to start a family, but they haven’t had any news yet. I hope they dosoon. I’m still don’t think kids are for me. Lucy is great, though. I like her a lot. You’d like her and Madeline a lot, too. Maddie reminds me of you. She loves people with her whole heart. She’s so kind, all the time, and such a good goddamn mom. Just like you were. Are.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I know it’s my alarm telling me I need to start heading back.
Responsibilities are waiting for me, and no matter how long I want to sit here in the quiet stillness with the person I loved—love—more than anything in the world, people are counting on me. Fans paid money to see me—to see us—play, and I don’t want to let anyone down.
She wouldn’t want me to do that either, and I know I need to go.
“We have a game tonight. The Atlanta Wasps suck this year, so hopefully it’ll be an easy win. I’ll be back soon. I’ll bring Mav next time. Dad, too. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have someone to introduce you to by then.”
My eyes prick with tears. My vision blurs, but I wipe away the emotions before they can fall. I know she’d tell me not to cry over her, but sometimes I can’t help it.
Life is so fucking unfair.
I stand and put my hand on her headstone. I drag my finger over the smooth granite, smiling.
“I love you, Mama. To the stars, the heavens, and beyond.”
I take the walk back to the car slower this time. When I climb inside, Maverick doesn’t say anything. He reaches over, gives me a hug, and drives us to the hotel. I have an ache in my chest the entire ride back.
“Hey, Dad.”I give him a hug in the tunnel, grinning when he ruffles my hair. “Glad I get to see you for a minute.”
“You’re too busy for me these days.” He laughs and takes a step back. “You look good, son. Are you doing okay? Eating right and getting enough sleep?”
“Yeah. I hired a private chef who knows how to do her job. I feel better than I did my rookie year. Wish I found her sooner.”
“You know what they say: everything happens for a reason, even if you don’t know what the reason is at the time.”
“I went and saw Mom. I took her some flowers.” I lean against my stick, wondering where she’s watching from tonight. “I’m going to try to get down here more often.”
“You have a lot on your plate. I know that. She knew—knows—that. No one can fault you for living your life,” Dad says.
“I want to be better about work-life balance. I’m spending more time at home these days. I never really went out before, but it’s so unappealing to me now.”
“Sounds like you have someone special in your life. Tell me about her.”
I think about the evenings on the couch with Lucy and Madeline. First-grade homework on the coffee table and dolls in the kitchen. Carrying Lucy to bed and eating a cookie with Madeline while we split a glass of milk. How much Ilaughand how light I feel.
Those little moments don’t sound special by themselves, but in the grand scheme of life, they’re some of my favorite things. What I look forward to on the drive back from the arena, a bright spot after a bad game.
