“Yeah, but that’s not why I told you. You have a secret of mine now. You still don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I thought knowing something about me that I haven’t told a soul yet—not even Bea—might help.”
“I’d like to tell you, but I don’t know where to start.” It’d be nice to get everything off my chest.
He shrugs. “Start wherever you want.”
Maybe it’s his nonchalant way of dealing with shit, or knowing he’s okay about me and Trav, I dunno. But it spills out. About Hunter, about quitting hockey. I don’t tell him about Trav’s plan to murder Robin. Not because I don’t trust Mercy, but because I don’t feel right involving him in that drama. Don’t want him implicated, or whatever, just in case Trav goes through with it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say when I finish. “That my brother will still love me, but it’s more than that.”
“He will still love you, but actually? I get the ‘more than that’ part, too. I make choices all the time that render me a sacrificial lamb for my family. I understand what you think you’re doing.”
Yeah! I want to shout, but I keep quiet, sensing the “but” a mile away. Mercy’s had to give up a lot for his family. His dadkept having kids and didn’t look after him as well as he should have. The moms kept leaving. That left Mercy.
“Here’s the thing about types like me who do shit for our families. We’re fucking hypocrites. If anyone dared do the same for me, I’d skin them alive. Your brother’s gonna be pissed when he finds out you were trying to repay him by erasing yourself.”
I scowl. “You were supposed to make me feel better, now I feel worse.”
“I said I’d help, not tell you what you wanna hear.”
Fucking bastard. But, ugh, I know he’s right.
“Sacrifice isn’t about paying a debt, it’s about standing with someone,” Mercy adds. “And I’d even go as far as to question calling it a sacrifice if it’s something you want to do … but I won’t get too philosophical on you today. Just take it from a guy who knows—your brother chose to look after you because that’s who he is. He didn’t give up any part of himself to do it. Just like I took on the care of my siblings because I knew I was the only one who would do it, not because I owed them or anybody. The real sacrifice in your situation is risking conflict with your brother.”
“The thing I’ve been running like hell from.”
“Yep. You don’t owe Hunter your dreams, Dirk. You owe him the truth of who you are.”
“Then why’s he always on my fucking case about college?”
Mercy laughs. “He wants you safe, that’s all. Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch your child play one of the most volatile sports in the world? Then they tell you they want to make a career out of it? In other words, they’re gonna play at an even more dangerous level of danger than they were already playing? That’s just normal parent shit. You don’t need to feel guilty about that, Dirk.”
“All your siblings—basically your children—play hockey,” I point out.
“And that’s hard enough. God help them if they tell me they want to attempt to play for money. I’m still telling Theo that ‘professional butterfly catcher’ is a totally respectable career.”
“You’re a literal NHL hockey coach who coaches his boyfriend—an NHL hockey player,” I stress, so he can hear how ridiculous he sounds.
He shrugs. “I didn’t say it made sense, but it’s how it is. One day, when you have a kid, you’ll see.”
I don’t dignify that with a response. It’s stupid.
“You wanna punch something right now, don’t you?” Merc says.
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Y’know, an advantage I have over your brother is that I have a houseful of kids, whereas Hunter has just you. That guardrail vs. the net effect. He’s trying to keep you from ever falling, whereas I’ve accepted that the most I can do is try to catch them. He should hang out with us sometime. The house is always open for him.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Hunter, hang out? He works too much for that, and when he’s not physically at work, he busies himself with projects around the house.”
“Then maybe I need to bring a six-pack and a hammer by. I’m sure he wouldn’t turn down help if it came with beer.”
He probably would, but if anyone could force their way into Hunter’s life, it’s Mercy. Maybe what Hunter really needs is a friend to talk to about Mom. Not that Hunter’s friendless—he’s got construction buddies—but I doubt he gets personal with them.
“He might not appreciate it at first, but I would,” I say.
“Done. Now, you should probably get back in there. Your man’s about to start a search party for you.”
My man.I love someone else calling him my man almost as much as I love saying it.
