“I would really second guess asking me that right now.”
The rest of the ride was quiet and we arrived early, like mom had asked.
We’d barely set our bags down before dad bellowed us into the den. Finally, my brother seemed about as anxious as I’d been all week.
“Grace, I need a few minutes with the boys.”
“Tell them to wash their hands,” she called from the kitchen.
“Sit down.” Dad’s voice was placid as he turned on the television, which was paused at one of the games. It was hard to tell which.
“You want to tell me what the hell’s been going on the last few weeks?”
I stayed silent. I wasn’t one to question my father’s intelligence. But I also wasn’t sitting down. I stood against the windowsill with my arms crossed. And in the same respect, he knew better than to ask me to.
“What do you mean?” Troy spread his hands apart and kept his voice even.
Robert moved closer and hissed so our mother wouldn’t hear. “I mean what the hell have you been doing while your brother’s been playing your games?”
Troy shook his head and turned his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t think I could tell my own sons apart for Christ’s sake?”
Troy stood.
“Sit down, I’m not done.”
“I can’t do it, okay? I get back out there and tank again, I’ll be branded as a sophomore slump.”
“Then you need more practice, more training. You need focus, Troy. Do you have any idea what could happen—who knows about this?” He looked at me when he asked.
“The team Captains,” I answered, my arms still crossed.
My father’s arms spread wide. “Don’t you have a job that you’re always too busy for your family for? Now, you’ve got time to join the NHL?”
“I didn’t join the team, I’m covering for my brother, who I don’t know if you remember has a drinking problem,” I barked.
When my father’s expression turned from angry to solemn, I knew I’d hit a nerve. Getting Troy to quit drinking was a challenge in college but between the three of us, we pulled him through and got him to focus on hockey more than a bottle.
It was part of the reason I played for him. If he didn’t make it, it would have started all over again. Or worse.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” My mother’s voice cut into the room, and we were all silenced.
She walked in through the double doors, carrying her dish towel, flour in her red hair and sharp green eyes ready to take us all down.
Dad went to sit next to Troy, and I sat in the armchair across from them.
“Grace, why don’t you have a seat? There’s something you should know.”
18
“Harper,comeonin.You’re right on time.”
“Thank you,” I stepped in and handed Grace a bottle of wine. “I’m sorry, I would have called but I didn’t have your number. I wasn’t sure if dinner was still on with the storm coming.”
“Nonsense,” she said, waving a hand for me to follow her. “We all got to eat. And Robert will take you home later if need be.”
“Thanks, I don’t mind driving in the rain.”
