Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
ALEC
I wish I could say I was a charming and gracious host over the holidays.
Unfortunately for my family, I was nothing of the sort.
It started on Wednesday, the day after the game, when I had Nathan pick me up and drive me to the hospital for an MRI. I know it hurt Evie’s feelings that I didn’t want her to take me. But here’s the thing about Evie.
She sees me.
From the very beginning of our relationship, she looked me right in the eye and told me I was more than a hockey player, that my value didn’t just stem from my stats on the ice. I know she’s right. Of course I know she’s right. And I really do love her hope and optimism.
But I just wanted to be angry for a minute.
And Nathan was the one to let me do that.
The next few days went by in a similar haze of anger and frustration. A Thanksgiving meal I tried and failed to properly appreciate. A consultation with Dr. Samuelson and the best orthopedic surgeon in North Carolina. And then, the Friday after Thanksgiving, a surgery to repair both my ACL and my MCL, as well as a torn meniscus.
Now, two weeks post-surgery, the fog of my frustration has cleared enough for me to recognize a few things.
One, I don’t deserve my family because they came all the way to North Carolina to see me, and I couldn’t get out of my own head enough to appreciate and enjoy their visit.
Two, I definitely don’t deserve Evie because she still hasn’t given up on me, even though I’ve given her more than enough reason to do so.
And three. My knee is never going to be the same.
On the kitchen island in front of me sit two different plans for my physical therapy over the next three months.
One is designed to prepare me for hockey. I’d be out for the rest of this season, but with a lot of work through the off season, I could probably be back in commission by the start of next.
The other is designed to prepare me for life after hockey. And it’s the one Dr. Samuelson thinks I should embrace.
I shift the individual sheets of paper forward and back on the cool countertop, staring at them until the words blur. Like this, it seems like such a simple choice. One plan or the other. Option A. Option B. But nothing about giving up hockey is simple.
Dr. Samuelson made it clear that even though the surgery was successful and it’s probable I could rehabilitate to the point of being a sufficient player in the AHL, I will never play with the same speed and power I had before.
Meanwhile, the Appies are on a winning streak, in large part due to Theo and Carter, who are developing into truly outstanding defensemen.
I’m proud of them.
Most of the time.
But I don’t love the idea of doing all the work of PT and rehabilitation just to play third line to a bunch of guys fifteen years my junior. There’s something to be said for quitting while I’m still ahead.
“Morning, Captain,” Theo says as he strolls into the kitchen. It’s already two in the afternoon, but I don’t correct him. They had an away game yesterday and drove home after. I doubt they were back at the Summit before three in the morning.
“Hey. Carter still sleeping?”
“I assume so,” Theo says. “I haven’t seen him.”
After Evie and Juno moved out, freeing up the upstairs bedrooms, Theo and Carter moved out of the bonus room over the garage and claimed their own rooms. According to them, it’s the first time in their lives they haven’t been roommates, so I’m sure they’re loving having their own space.
“What are you looking at?” Theo asks. He pulls a bowl out of the cabinet, then rummages around in the pantry, emerging with a box of cereal.
“Plans for PT,” I say, my eyes drifting back to the paper.
“Ah,” Theo says. “A lot of guys are wondering what you’re going to do.”
I look up. “Yeah?”
He nods. “If you’ll come back. You think you will?”
I blow out a breath. “That is the question.”
He carries his cereal to a barstool at the opposite end of the island and sits down. “What does Evie think?”
The question sends a wave of uncomfortable guilt washing over me. I don’t know what Evie thinks because I haven’t talked to her about it.
We’ve talked about other things. A lot about Juno. About her work. But whenever she tries to steer the conversation to hockey, I find a way to talk about something else.
I know she’s frustrated with me. That she senses me shutting her down. Shutting her out. But I don’t know how to stop. Whenever I think about walking away, figuring out a life that exists outside of the Appies organization, I’m filled with a cold sense of dread, a fear that I’ll never be able to do anything else. I’m not worried as much about the financial piece of it. I’ve planned well and have decent savings. I just don’t know what I’ll do with myself.
“I don’t know what Evie thinks,” I finally answer. “I haven’t talked to her about it.”
Theo stares at me over his cereal bowl. “Why not?”
Because she’ll tell me what I already know. She’ll tell me it’s okay to let myself walk away.
When I don’t immediately answer, Theo shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean, if you…” His words cut off, like he’s struggling to figure out what to say. Or maybe how to say it. “Can I just talk to you like you’re my age for a second? Like you’re not my team captain?”
I’m not, technically, his captain. Not anymore. The alternate captains have been rotating the position, but I appreciate Theo still offering me the respect.
“Go ahead,” I say. “Say whatever you want.”
He’s quiet for a long moment before he says, “It’s just a game.”
I lift my eyebrows.
“If you come back, it’ll be for, what, two, maybe three more seasons? Four, if you’re lucky? But all of us will be done by the time we’re forty,” he continues. “Probably sooner. And then what?” He holds up a finger and points at me. “But see, you already figured out what comes next for you. You already have something else to live for.” He shrugs. “Why not just go do that now?”
I already have something else to live for.
It’s a very simple distillation, but it rings true in a way that nothing else I’ve thought over the past two weeks has.
“When’s Juno’s birthday?” Theo asks.
“What? Uh, late May, I think. The 29th.”
“So right in the middle of playoffs. If you play four more seasons, she’ll be five by the time you retire. Wonder how many of her birthdays you’d miss for games.”
His words hit like a gut punch. Juno’s little now, but she won’t always be little. Eventually, she’ll be old enough to have expectations, hopes. To look out the window and wonder if her dad will be home in time for her party.
It’s exactly what Evie didn’t want for her daughter. A dad who isn’t around.
Theo stands and carries his empty bowl to the sink. He looks at me and grins. “That one got you, didn’t it?”
I scowl. “What is that therapist teaching you?”
“The true meaning of life, Captain. And I have you to thank for that.” He’s halfway across the living room on his way to the stairs when he turns and adds, “Spoiler alert. The answer isn’t hockey.”
I make the fifteen-minute drive to Evie’s house in just shy of eleven minutes only to arrive and realize it’s not even three p.m. and she doesn’t get off work until five.
I debate leaving and coming back, but then I look down and see Ruth’s house and come up with a new plan instead. I park and climb out of my truck, taking it easy as I walk down the sidewalk to Ruth’s. I can walk without crutches now, but my knee is still braced, so I have to keep all of my movements slow and intentional.
Before I knock on Ruth’s door, I send Evie a quick text, not wanting to overstep or make assumptions when it comes to Juno.
Alec
Hey. I’ve got a free afternoon. Can I go grab Juno early for you? I’ll just hang out with her at your house until you get home.
Evie
Of course! That actually works great—I was supposed to get her at four anyway because Ruth has an appointment, but I’m behind here, so leaving early was going to be tough.
Alec
I’m on it. Take your time.
Evie
Thank you!
Ruth answers the door on the first knock, Juno tucked into her hip. She smiles wide when she sees me.
“Hi, Ruth,” I say. “I’m here to pick up Juno. Evie said you have an appointment.”
Ruth glances at her watch. “Come on in,” she says. “You’re early, so I haven’t packed up her stuff, but it should only take a minute.”
She hands me Juno, then bustles around the room, adding diapers and bottles and jars of baby food into the bag.
“Is Juno eating solid food?” I ask.
“Just started,” Ruth says. “So far, she loves the bananas but hates the peas.”
Something like hurt tiptoes up my spine. Evie didn’t tell me. Juno started solid food, and Evie didn’t mention it.
It’s not like I have a right to know. But before my injury, she was constantly sharing her notes about milestones, her debates about how long is too long and how soon is too soon. The fact that she hasn’t shared this is on me.
Because I’ve been checked out. Wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself.
Once Juno’s belongings are in her bag and she’s bundled up for the short walk home, I thank Ruth and make my way up the hill to Evie’s house.
It’s not until we’re inside and unpacked and sitting on Evie’s couch that I realize all the times I’ve ever taken care of Juno, Evie has always been with me. But this time, I’m alone.
Ruth at least told me she just had a bottle, so she doesn’t need to eat. Maybe we can just hang out? Roll around in circles?
I put Juno on the floor in front of me, flat on her back. “Okay, Juno. You want to roll?”
She stares up at me like I’ve completely lost my mind.
“Not in the mood for rolls, huh? Maybe we can watch some TV?”
I scoop Juno back up and settle on the couch, extending my braced knee so it’s resting on the coffee table.
She rubs her eyes like she’s sleepy, so I grab her pacifier, giving it to her before tucking her against my chest. To my surprise, she settles right down and eventually falls asleep.
I hold her for a long time, even after I know Evie would have insisted I move her to her crib. But sitting here with Juno, holding her like this, feels like the perfect time to be honest with myself.
It’s time for my hockey career to end.
I wait for the wave of dread that’s been chasing me all week, but with my hand on Juno’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breaths, the dread never comes.
I think I’ve known all along it was time to be done, even before my injury. I just wanted to believe I had more time. I was managing the pain, but managing the pain came at a cost, and when I pushed myself as hard as I should have been pushing, it was too much.
I can’t keep doing that to my team. Make them accommodate, make up for my limitations.
Especially not when Theo was right.
I really do have something else worth living for.
After another few minutes, my knee starts to feel stiff, so I carefully stand and carry Juno back to her crib. When she’s settled and quiet and I’m sure she isn’t going to wake up, I head back to the living room where I spend a few minutes doing a few easy stretches to loosen up my knee.
It’s almost five, which means Evie should be getting home any minute, so I sit back down and reach for the remote, hoping there’s a hockey game on to help me pass the time. Not that I mind waiting. I owe Evie an apology and a long conversation. I’ll wait all night if I have to.
Half an hour later, footsteps sound on the porch, and I sit up, turning off the TV as I do. I expect her to just walk in, but then someone knocks instead.
I stand and open the front door, finding a man I don’t recognize on Evie’s porch. He has dark hair, light eyes, and a mouth that looks familiar, though I can’t immediately place where I’ve seen it before.
Until he smiles and holds out his hand.
That smile is Juno’s smile.
Which means this guy is Evie’s ex.
“Hey. You must be Alec. I’m Devon.” He shoots me a devilish grin, eyebrows dancing. “Thanks for holding my spot for me.”