A sniff into my knuckle and take another sip of sake. “You’re right. I think it’s just been a lot, and admitting it to myself has been the hardest part.”
“Well, at least you’re being honest with yourself. And it takes guts to step out of the known and the familiar and do something entirely different. That takes strength as well as grace.”
I smile, his words making me feel a little glow of my own. “I hope my mom will see it like that.”
“I think you’ll be surprised. But you gotta talk to them.”
“For sure, I will.” I nod. “The decision was made while I was out here that I’d come clean and lay it all out on the line when I got home. I think it will feel like a burden has been lifted when I get it off my chest. It already does, even now, talking to you.”
His smile is soft and sweet as he finally drags his hand away from mine, but I still feel the warmth of it, like it’s still there. “I’m glad you told me.”
“You’ve always been a good listener.”
“So I’ve been told.” He winks.
“Seriously. Thank you.”
He waves it off with a flick of his hand. “I didn’t do anything. You’re creating a great life for yourself, Jade Jones, that’s something to be proud of. Some people don’t realize that until it’s too late. I’m one of the lucky ones in some ways that I always knew what I wanted to do. But the point is, it hasn’t taken you a lifetime.”
I stare at him in wonder – given the life he had before the NHL – and the fact he says he’s one of the lucky ones warms my heart even further. Luck had nothing to do with it, in reality. Jay has worked hard for every single thing he’s achieved. “You always knew it was hockey for you?” I guess I know the answer, but I didn’t know him growing up as a kid, only that year before he left for North Dakota.
“Yup.” He purses his lips on a nod, like he’s thinking back, but dusts it off quickly as he finishes off the last few mouthfuls of his food. It will be cold now from our intense discussion, but he doesn’t seem to care. “From the second I could hold a hockey stick. Maybe that’s the one thing my mom got right.”
It’s my turn to slide my hand over to his and give it a squeeze. I know he brushes off his relationship with his mom whenever it is brought up, but the scars are buried deep. I know it. “Maybe it is. Do you ever hear from her?”
There’s a long stretch of silence, which makes me glance up to see if he’s heard me. He wraps his thumb and forefinger around his chin while he contemplates. “Every so often,” he says. “She tried to call me yesterday, as it happens. She texted me recently, too.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, I figure that’s why I had that extra tequila shot.”
“So you don’t keep in regular contact?”
He pops a shoulder and I can almost feel the open barrier between us suddenly finding its limit and closing right before my eyes. He slips his hand from mine and folds both of his hands together in his lap, his body rigid again, his eyes a little harder, like they were when I talked about Aaron. “Not at all. There’s been instances in the past. I’ve paid for her rehab a few times, but she seems to always fall back off the wagon. I think she just wanted the money personally.”
“Jay, I’m so sorry.”
He blows out an exhale, which is long and drawn out. “It doesn’t matter. I put all that behind me a long time ago.”
“What do you think she’d be calling for now?”
“Could be anything. Probably money, I’ve given it to her in the past. Tried to help her when she needed it, but it never goes anywhere. I’ll never forgive her for some of the situations she put me through.”
“I know,” I whisper. “And you don’t have to. You’ve made something of yourself all off your own back. That’s something to be so proud of.”
“I didn’t want to end up like her,” he says simply. “That was my biggest motivator.”
“You’ve come so far.”
“That day—” He looks down at his hands, the bob in his throat accentuated by a hard swallow. “That day your dad and Robbie found me, I’ll never forget it.” The storm in his face, washing over his eyes, seems to settle as we look at each other, though the golden flicker of the candle burns even brighter than before. “They really saved me, Jade. And I’ve never looked back since that day.”
I want to ask him more. Other than that eavesdropping conversation when he caught me listening to my parents that night, he’s never spoken of it.
And his testament is, he’s never looked back. And it’s believable, so, so believable, because it’s the truth.
But as I look at him square in the eye, I can’t help the tug to my heart. Has he really buried it in the past, never to be looked at again? I can’t tell.
Does he really have no feeling towards his mother who put him through hell?
