“Honey, I saw a bill the other day from a women’s clinic. Is your endometriosis flaring up? You should’ve told me you were going. I would’ve gone with you,” my mom says as she places her hand on mine and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I uh—went to the doctor to have some tests run.” I hesitate. God, this might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“What kind of tests? Are you still having the headaches and nausea from the accident?” she asks, worry etched on her face.
“I am, but it turns out it’s not because of the accident.” Just then, I decide to take a giant bite of pancakes. I try to chew quickly, but when I swallow, the sticky stack gets caught in my throat.
Holy awkward as fuck.
My parents share a look, and then they both stare back at me, waiting for me to finish chugging my glass of orange juice to clear my throat.
Buying more time, I don’t just take a few sips. I chug the entire glass. When I go to refill my glass, my mom places her hand on my arm to stop me.
“McKenna, talk to us. You can tell us anything.”
Well, hopefully, I don’t make her eat her words. Here goes nothing.
Looking down at my pancakes, I avoid making eye contact as I blurt, “I went to the doctor to confirm that I’m pregnant.”
I look up to see both of my parents’ eyes widen. They definitely were not expecting that. Dad’s grip on his fork tightens momentarily, and Mom’s eyes well with tears.
“I’m going to guess it’s Griffin I need to have a talk with?” my dad questions, breaking the tense silence.
What happens next completely throws me off. My mom jumps out of her chair and pulls me in for a hug. “I’m going to be a Grammy! Oh my goodness, I can’t tell you how lonely I’ve been since you two flew the nest. Please tell me I get to watch the baby while you’re at class and practice. When are you due?” she practically squeals.
What the fuck is happening?
My stomach sinks thinking about volleyball and school. I know there are plenty of people who go on to get a degree after they have a teenage pregnancy. But my dreams of volleyball and Team USA are shot.
“I’m still not sure what I’m going to do. My due date is May 18th. I haven’t even told Griffin yet. I’m going to try to finish school still, but I won’t be able to play volleyball next season. I can’t possibly think that after this season, in addition to being a mom, I’ll have a spot on the roster.”
My dad joins the hug, wrapping us in his arms, before he says, “You never know, Princess. Why don’t you go speak to your advisor and Coach after the New Year? As for Griffin, when do you plan on telling him?” I can’t help but notice my dad’s tone change when he asks about Griff.
“We aren’t really speaking right now. Well, he hasn’t been replying to me. It’s not something I want to text him or leave on his voicemail. Carson thought maybe I could fly to Boston for the game they play versus each other. It’ll still be my winter break.”
Mom’s gaze turns sympathetic, but Dad’s face reddens with anger.
“I don’t want you to fly there by yourself, Princess.”
“I’ll be fine, Dad. I promise.”
“Tell me your flight times, and I will bring you to the airport and pick you up.”
With just that one gesture, grief’s riptide pulls me back under. Making me wish that would’ve been the case on the last trip I took to Boston.
17
January
My skates hit the ice for warmups, and I inhale deeply as I take a few laps around our zone. Being on the ice is the only thing that makes me feel anything. It’s my only escape from the darkness of grief that threatens to pull me under every waking moment. Well, hockey and whiskey. But lately, even drinking myself into oblivion isn’t easing the pain—the anger—I feel. That’s why I started taking the pills a few weeks ago.
My birthday is this weekend, which means next week would’ve been Katie’s nineteenth birthday.
I’m striding toward the middle of the ice when I spot number twenty-two on the opposing team.
Carson.
I knew the game against him would bring memories rushing back that I’d been trying to repress. Memories of games of mini hockey, pond hockey, and street hockey, all with the four lakeshore kids—me, Carse, Kenna, and Katie. My stomach still sinks every time I even think of her name; both of their names, if I’m being honest.
