What Happened to the McCrays?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Eight

Pulling into his driveway felt a little anticlimactic after that string of events. They’d shared a night full of honesty and love, followed by Casey’s announcement that she was still leaving. He told her he’d stay away right before he walked out the door. It had felt like a dramatic exit. But then Kyle had gotten in his truck and driven maybe fifty feet before parking across the road from her.

He went inside the house and sank into a kitchen chair, too wiped out to even pour a cup of the coffee his dad had made. He felt empty, utterly depleted. Though, a sense of calm had come with that, borne of resignation. He didn’t know what else he could do for Casey. She had to take it from here, and she had to do it on her own. As sad as that made him, surprisingly, it also brought a little relief.

He heard his dad shuffling down the hallway before he entered the kitchen. He was using the walker, like he usually still did first thing in the morning. But his eyes and his smile were so wide he looked almost giddy as he took a seat at the table. “I was beginning to worry when you didn’t come home last night, but then I saw your truck across the road.”

“Yeah, sorry. I should have texted or called.”

“Don’t apologize.” But the longer he looked at Kyle, the more his smile faded.

“She’s leaving,” Kyle said. “Moving to Utica. She’s set on it, thinks it’s what she needs to do.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’s right, I don’t know.”

Dad’s sigh was hefty. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I really am. Watching how hard you’ve tried with Casey, since you’ve been back… I realize how much harder I should have tried. With your mom.” He tossed a hand. “I don’t know that we could have made it, we never had what you and Casey had. But I could have done more. Now, I love Casey, I really do. But you’ve done all you can.”

It would have been hard to put into words how much that meant to Kyle right then.

“I’m sure you have a lot to think about now,” Dad said. “But I hope you’re still planning on staying for a while. You’re welcome here as long as you want.” He looked down, patted the table with his hand. “Truth is, I’ve gotten used to having you around again.”

Until right then Kyle hadn’t pictured a future in Potsdam without Casey—his hopes had been pinned to her. But he wanted to stay, at least for a while. Stay and help Dad continue to get stronger, enjoy this new version of their relationship. Keep working with the kids, maybe help Coach with spring programs after hockey ended in March. Fill in any gaps Mateo had at the garage… He could see it. “That’s good to hear,” Kyle said. “I’d like to stick around. As long as you’re not looking for rent. I’m going to start running out of money at some point.”

Dad chuckled. “You keep driving me to PT and we’ll call it good. And from now on I’ll help with meals.” He held up a hand. “No offense, but I’m tired of those microwave dinners.”

“Thank God. Me too.”

“How about I start by making breakfast.” He stood and moved to the fridge, removed various ingredients. Then he poured a cup of coffee and brought it to Kyle before he started whisking eggs and toasting bread.

It felt strange to be waited on by the guy with the walker who was recovering from a stroke, and Kyle offered to help. But Dad said no thanks, and he whistled while he worked, like it felt good to be productive and let Kyle lean on him for a change. So he sipped his coffee, his stomach beginning to growl once the smell of home cooking filled the kitchen.

Though he couldn’t have felt more emotionally wrung out, and he had a lot of unanswered questions about his future, he also felt a tentative optimism. At least for now, he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

His primary goal for the next ten days was to avoid Casey. Thinking about her packing up and driving away was painful enough, there was no way he was going to watch it happen. So he took a page from her book and filled his time with as much as possible, stayed absent from River Road.

He and Dad spent Christmas Day volunteering at the food bank, followed by a ham dinner at the Dam Diner. The rest of that week he worked at the garage, and any concern about Mateo using him out of pity vanished. Mateo had more business than he could handle. Kyle took the crew out for a beer one night after work and they let it slip that Mateo hadn’t taken a vacation in years. The next day Kyle marched into the office and told Mateo he was taking spring break off, that he should make plans with his family, and Kyle would manage the garage while he was gone. Mateo almost wept in gratitude— Really? I don’t know how to thank you, man . He even talked about bringing Kyle back into the business, mentioned the idea of finally going in on the lot next door so they could expand. I know we’d have details to figure out, but it could be good for both of us. Just think about it. Which was really all Kyle was prepared to do. It was tempting, the idea of being part owner, but he wasn’t ready to make that decision yet. He felt like he was in a holding pattern, at least until Casey was gone.

He took some small steps forward that week though, like calling George in Spokane and officially quitting, giving his landlord notice, arranging for his pickup to be shipped to New York. And he talked to Coach about taking over dryland training with the team after the season ended, helping them stay in shape as they prepared to try out for the high school team. Coach was on board with that right away. He also reminded Kyle they still needed a permanent hockey coach for the U14 team, and Kyle said he’d think about it.

Eventually he had to go home at night, which is when it was impossible to keep his eyes from drifting across the road, looking for her in the windows, wondering what she was doing. At times it was all he could do to not walk over there. He’d be taking out the trash or watching TV with Dad or trying to fall asleep and his mind would drift to that night, being in the house again, carrying her up those stairs… And that self-torturing part of his brain would ask the question— What if I tried one more time?

But there hadn’t been the slightest indication she was changing her mind. He’d heard she tendered her resignation with the school district and spotted her driving past with empty cardboard boxes in the trunk of the Bronco. Any lingering doubt was put to rest by Wyatt. While Casey was out one evening, Kyle drove over to Wyatt’s shop and announced they were going to McDuff’s. While they sipped beers across from each other at a table in the bar, Wyatt confirmed it.

“Yeah, she’s still going.” His disapproving tone said it all.

“Maybe it’ll be good for her,” Kyle said.

“What—fucking Utica ?” Wyatt shook his head. “She’s only going because she can become a ghost there, and no one will care.”

The sorrow in his voice hit Kyle hard, and he couldn’t help thinking about the toll this was taking on Wyatt. He and Casey had always lived together, and there was nothing they wouldn’t do for each other. Even before Kyle was part of the Higginses’ lives he’d envied their bond from afar. He still remembered a remark ten-year-old Wyatt made the night Kyle hung out with him when Mrs. H was called into work. If you have to have a big sister, I guess you could do worse than Spacey Casey. And Kyle would never shake the image of Wyatt hauling himself up those stairs to save her life. “I’m sorry, Wyatt.”

He tipped his bottle toward Kyle’s. “Me too.”

They clinked and drank, and Kyle asked him about his move to Boston. Wyatt explained that he would rent an apartment to start with—even though Julia said he could stay with her. I don’t want to rush it. I think she could be the one. Kyle told him that was smart then, that the faster she really got to know him the faster she would drop him. Wyatt laughed and told him to fuck off, and all of it warmed Kyle’s heart because he was genuinely excited for Wyatt.

Though, while they talked for another half hour that night, there was a small part of Kyle that was stuck on one sad thought. Before long the house on River Road would be empty, lifeless. The yellow one with black shutters that he’d dreamed about calling home long before he lived there.

He gave the team Christmas week off, so they didn’t have practice again until the following Monday afternoon. A few kids were still out of town visiting family, but most of them were there. At least physically. Mentally they seemed elsewhere, sluggish and out of sorts. They were quiet, moving through the drills with little energy.

“What’s going on today?” Kyle asked Rosie.

She stood next to him, stopwatch in hand, whistle on a lanyard around her neck. It was her job to track the clock and alert the boys when it was time to change up positions, so Kyle could focus on what they were doing. Rosie had been a big help lately. He was suddenly navigating the team without a manager, and she’d figured out how to coordinate schedules with the arena. Though, he’d had to remind her and Logan about the school’s strict no-PDA policy when he caught them holding hands at the rink before practice. “I’m pretty sure it’s the email that went out over the weekend,” Rosie said, sounding dejected herself.

Right, the email. The one Casey had sent to the team parents notifying them she had resigned her position and would be relocating, that she regretted not being able to say goodbye in person due to the holiday break, but it had been her honor to work with their very special kids, so on and so forth. Kyle had told Wyatt to let her know about this practice; he’d offered to stay away so she could have time with the kids before she left. But she declined. She said it would make things harder on the team , Wyatt had reported. Which is bullshit. She just doesn’t want to face them. Kyle agreed her email was a cop out. She’d been in these kids’ lives for almost three years—some even longer—and they’d grown to care about her. She could have said goodbye in person. Yeah, he was well aware of the outrageous pot, kettle hypocrisy, but still.

When he heard a clattering on the ice he looked over to see Ben had thrown his stick down and yanked his helmet off. “Yo, Logan! You’re supposed to pass at least four times before you shoot on goal, dude.”

“I did!”

“Only if you don’t know how to count,” Ben said, spreading his arms wide.

“Uh-oh,” Rosie said, shaking her head.

“Wanna go?” Logan asked Ben, tossing his stick aside and making a beeline for Ben, who readied himself by getting low.

“HEY,” Kyle yelled. “Don’t even think about it.”

Rory and Soren moved in before Logan got to Ben and nudged them away from each other.

“That’s it,” Kyle said. “Bring it in.” He waved them all over to the bench.

They took a seat, shoulders slumped and heads down, looking very different from the team that took third place a little over a week ago.

Kyle flipped his hat around and crossed his arms. “I guess maybe there’s something we should talk about. I take it everyone’s parents received the email this weekend.”

“If you mean the one about Ms. McCray leaving,” Ben said, “yeah. We got it.”

“You mean quitting,” Will said, without lifting his head. “She quit on us.”

That broke Kyle’s heart a little. It was so out of character for soft-spoken Will that his teammates glanced at him.

“We’re not even going to see her again,” Logan said, his brows pushed together in hurt confusion.

Kyle understood how disappointed they must be feeling in her, betrayed even. They’d taken third place, publicly thanked her, dedicated their hard-won trophy to Charlie, and she didn’t even have the courtesy to say goodbye to their faces.

“Look, guys,” he said. “I know it’s hard, Casey leaving, and it was sudden. None of us saw that coming.” He felt their eyes swing his way when he said that. “But you can’t forget how hard she worked for all of you, how she always went the extra mile. She did that because she cares about you. We just have to trust that she’s doing what she needs to do right now to take care of herself.”

They offered lukewarm responses, a shrug here, a limp nod there.

“But I want to tell you something,” Kyle said. “The last few years have been very tough on her, on both of us, and I don’t think you’ll ever understand what you did for her, how much you helped her through that time. I understand it. Even though I’ve only been your coach a short time, you’ve done the same thing for me.”

He was quiet then, hoping to mark the moment for them, let his gratitude sink in.

It was Rosie who broke the silence. “You know, we really thought you guys might get back together, especially after the dance. I mean, we even had the DJ play Ed Sheeran’s ‘Perfect’ for you.”

“Yeah,” Ben said, turning his hands up. “We thought that setup was flawless.”

Kyle smiled. “It was. Extra points for that one.”

“But it didn’t work,” Will said. “She still left.” His shrug was sad, like he just couldn’t make sense of it.

Kyle wasn’t sure how to respond. To Will, to all these kids, things were still fairly black-and-white—Coach and Ms. McCray should have ended up together, so how could it not happen? Kyle was their hockey coach, not their parent. It wasn’t his place to explain that the older they got the vastly more complicated things would become. As they grew up they would hear all the platitudes: sometimes you have to know when to quit; when things are out of your control you have to let go and move on; doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results is the definition of insanity… But he wasn’t going to be the one to say those things, force them to grow up any faster than they had to. So, instead, he offered something a little simpler and hoped it made sense.

“Sometimes you’ve taken all the shots you can,” he said. “And then it’s time to let someone else carry the puck for a while.”

The following Thursday Kyle rose before dawn. He hadn’t slept much; all he could think about was Casey leaving the next morning. According to Wyatt she planned to hit the road early, and Kyle wanted to be long gone when that happened.

He started coffee and jumped in the shower, thinking through his schedule for the day. He was heading into the garage first thing, where he planned to spend his morning. At noon he was meeting with the team at the school gym to clean up a mess he’d made. After putting together a practice schedule for the rest of the season, he accidentally emailed it to the wrong parents list, and he’d failed to coordinate with the after-school academic programs, so there were already conflicts. Now he understood how Casey must have felt trying to coach. He had no idea what he was doing, and the kids knew it. He needed to find a manager pronto, but it wouldn’t happen until after the holidays, so he’d asked the boys to meet with him today in hopes of straightening out some of the miscommunication.

While preparing a thermos of coffee he let his eyes wander across the road. There was no sign of life yet, in the house or the shop. Last night Angie had hosted a small going-away party for Casey. Kyle had driven his dad over, but he didn’t go inside. He recognized some of the dozen or so vehicles parked at Angie and Todd’s—Mateo’s truck was there, Bob Shriver’s Subaru, Sara Lopez’s old Toyota. Jake Renner’s spiffy SUV was there as well. Dad had stayed less than an hour before calling for a ride home. When Kyle asked him how it went, he’d shaken his head. Sad affair. Everyone standing around, trying to put a positive spin on her leaving. Except for Wyatt. He thinks it’s a mistake, and he’s making no bones about it.

Kyle knew today would be particularly tough on Wyatt, so he planned to get over to the shop after his meeting with the team. It would be hard for Wyatt to keep close tabs on Casey, especially after he moved to Boston, and Kyle planned to tell him he would do what he could to help. He’d keep his distance, he had to for his own sake, but he’d have Dad check in with her regularly, even drive him down there to visit her. Eventually, Kyle hoped to be in touch with her himself. He needed time, but he’d like to get to a place where he could talk to her once in a while, see how she was doing. Even if it was just exchanging their old texts— Okay? Okay —it would be something.

He pulled on a baseball cap, shrugged into his jacket, grabbed his thermos and clipboard of paperwork for the team meeting before heading out into the white winter morning, cursing himself for not starting the truck earlier so it was warmed up. He didn’t want to just sit there and wait, take the chance of seeing her, so he scraped off the windshield as fast as he could. But he heard the locomotive horn and knew it wouldn’t be fast enough.

He cleared the frost, pulled out, and sat at the crossing, waited for the train to roll by. Naturally it was a slow one, like the CSX Railway engineer was deliberately prolonging this painful moment as long as possible. When it finally passed he allowed himself one more look in the rearview and said a silent goodbye to Casey before hitting the gas.

As he headed to the garage and the full day ahead of him, he considered his short-term goals. For the next few months his plan was to focus on being a good coach, mechanic, son, and friend. He figured if he gave it his best shot and took his own coaching advice— stick to the basics, keep your head up, and don’t quit —he’d be in pretty good shape.