Chapter 4
Liam
“You’re not staying at a hotel, Walks. My guest room is free.
” I inform my best friend the morning after my meeting with the Wolves.
His flight’s already booked, and I’m sure he’s thrilled to be leaving New York.
He always intended to come back and play for Colorado if he could make it happen.
So, no surprise, he leaped at the chance.
The Ravens never seemed like the right fit for him anyway.
I’ve been hearing for years about how he never seems to get in sync with his wingers the same way could when we played together in college.
“Don’t want to impose, besides, it’s already booked.”
“Cancel it. You’re family, man. No hotel.” I’ve got an extra unused bedroom, and it even has its own bathroom, so we won’t need to share. I’m a neat freak, and Walker doesn’t know the meaning of the word neat. We’ve shared a bathroom before, and it almost ended our friendship.
“Fine,” but I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Fight lands at 2, Right?”
We spend a few minutes discussing logistics before picking a place to meet.
He’s leaving for the airport soon, so I let him go to finish packing while I finish setting up my guest room.
Thank goodness my cleaning crew was here yesterday, so it’s not too bad.
Although it’s weird, I never see them. Mom must schedule them for when I’m out of the house because she’s the only one I ever see.
She’s been acting as my PA since my first year with the Wolves.
It’s nice because at my level, having someone you can trust is important.
She always makes sure everything in my life moves smoothly so I can focus on hockey.
My phone rings, and it’s my dad. I answer on autopilot.
“Hey, Pop. How’s it going?”
“Hi, son. Good, good.” He seems distracted. He gets that way occasionally.
“Something on your mind?” I ask, hoping to prod the conversation on a bit.
“Oh, yeah. You have any free time today? Your mom and I would like to discuss a few things with you. Maybe stop by for dinner?”
“I can’t tonight. I’m picking up Walker later this afternoon, and we’re having dinner with Kenji and Madison. Can I come by right now? I’m free for a few hours before I have to leave for the airport.”
My dad’s voice brightens.
“That works. Come on over when you’re ready.”
I glance back, making sure the guest room looks presentable before grabbing my keys and water bottle.
The season is starting soon, and I’ve been ramping up my water intake.
The older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve had to pay closer attention to the care of my body.
It’s weird to be saying that at 28 years old, but that’s considered old in hockey years.
Thirty minutes later, I pull up in front of their two-story red brick house in Arvada.
This is home. I grew up in this house, and knowing my parents, they’ll never move.
I paid it off for them when I got my first rookie bonus.
It was the least I could do. My mom devoted most of her life to my hockey career while my dad worked his ass off as an insurance agent to pay all the bills.
They thought I didn’t know how hard it was for them financially, but I saw it.
I hope everything is okay. Dad retired last year, and it’s been an adjustment for Mom. She was used to having her space. I’m sure they’re working it all out though. Their marriage has always been solid.
Pop is in the garage as usual. I try not to chuckle.
I’m sure that’s Mom’s idea of a compromise to get him out of the house.
He looks good, though. The deep worry lines are easing, without all the stress from his job.
His face has a healthier glow, and he’s got some pep in his step as he walks out to meet me.
It’s nice to see. I tried to help them out with more of my hockey money, but they wouldn’t take it.
Said the house was enough. I wouldn’t have even gotten to do that if I hadn’t gone directly to the bank.
I wanted it to be a surprise, plus I was pretty sure that Dad would fight me.
He’s got a lot of pride, but I was determined.
As Dad goes to hug me, I falter. He’s never been big on hugs, so it’s really nice when you get one. I breathe in the comforting scent of sawdust, Old Spice, and home. We should do this more often. Maybe I need to be the one to initiate it more since it seems to be hard for him.
“Good to see you, son.” He says with a smile as he releases me, still patting my back.
There’s something so stable and reassuring about my dad.
He’s the kind of guy you can always rely on.
He wasn’t a screamer when I was growing up.
Sure, he could mete out some discipline when needed, but he didn’t yell.
He was solid. Explained what you did wrong, helped you figure out what you should have done, and then it was over.
He didn’t hold it against you later, even if you screwed up again. And I did. Often.
“You too, Pop.”
“Come on in. Your mom made some of her oatmeal raisin cookies.”
“Oh, it’s that kind of talk.” I raise my eyebrows at him.
Whenever my dad and I had to have a hard talk about something upsetting, Mom would make my favorite cookies. Like that would somehow make an unpleasant conversation more palatable. It didn’t, but I’m not turning down cookies. Who does that?
Mom’s already got them on the table with a couple of glasses of milk, but I want a hug first. Mom’s hugs smell like sugar cookies and feel like coming home.
It’s as if everything will be okay, no matter the issue.
I’ll never be too old for one, although I appreciate them a lot more now than I did as a teenager.
“Remember, we love you.” She whispers in my ear before I pull away and head for the old wooden kitchen table. Mom’s comment increases my apprehension. I rack my brain trying to figure out what I might have done to earn me a lecture. I’ve got nothing.
We’ve had this table since I was a kid. I can’t even count how many times Dad and I sanded it down and re-stained it together.
Pop was all about renew and reuse. He hates buying something brand new.
I still remember him trying to fix the coffee maker for a week before my mom put her foot down and bought a Keurig.
You don’t mess with that woman’s coffee.
Pop sits down and grabs a few cookies off the serving plate before offering one to me.
“These look delicious, honey.” His comment reminds me of my manners.
“Thanks for the cookies, Mom.” I add as I grab a handful. I hope she made some extra for me to take home. Walker loves them. Well, he loves anything she cooks, but these are his favorite.
I decide to jump right in, since the suspense is killing me.
“What’s up, Pop?” I’m not above pushing the conversation a bit. It works, though, because he starts with his signature phrase. It’s a military thing. Dad spent a few years in the Army before he married Mom.
“Let’s get down to brass tacks. Your mom and I have been discussing what we want to do now that I’m retired. We’ve decided to travel for a few months. We’re going to do a four-week tour of Western Europe. All the countries.”
“Wow, that’s terrific! I’m glad you guys are going to do something fun. When are you going?” Good for them. My parents have worked hard all their lives, and I love this for them. “Do you guys need anything from me? I can check on the house while you’re gone.”
My dad opens his mouth, then shuts it abruptly as if I’ve said something baffling. He glances at my mom before answering.
“Uh, yes, it would be helpful if you did that every once in a while, but other than that, we’re fine. What about you, son? We’re leaving in a week. Will that be enough time to get your stuff sorted?” Again with the quizzical look.
My stuff? What was he talking about? How did I have anything to do with this? Now I’m confused.
“What stuff? Not sure what you mean, Pop.” I can see his annoyance as he shakes his head at me. What am I missing here? His heavy sigh fills the silence.
“Liam, with your mom gone, what are you going to do about all the things she handles for you? Cleaning your apartment, cooking your meals... handling your finances? I love you, son, but isn’t it past time for you become a responsible adult?
Your Mom’s getting to the point where she just physically can’t do all this work anymore. You have to see that. Right?”
Now he’s looking a bit pissed, and I’m still lost.
“Why can’t we keep using the same services as before? I know mom always checks their work but maybe we can just forgo that for now. They know what to do by now, don’t they?”
The look Dad gives me reminds me of my teenage years, and not in a good way. I’m sure he’d say “what the hell” but he never swears around Mom. Seriously, I don’t see the big deal here.
“Good grief, Joyce, are you sure you didn’t drop him when he was a baby?” Both of them are looking at me with obvious exasperation.
“Wow, thanks, Pop. That one burned a little.” I rub my chest. “Seriously, though, I don’t understand why it’s a problem.” My gaze bounces between the two of them as I attempt to get a hint about their issue.
“Jesus, Liam! Your Mom’s the one who’s been doing all the cleaning, laundry, and food prep for you, as well as paying all your bills and handling all your investments. There aren’t any services because your mom is the service!”
What the fuck? He can’t be serious. Surely, I would have noticed that.
Would you though?
Fuck. How was this not obvious? Well, it explains why things were always exactly the way I liked them. I just thought Mom hired the right people. It’s pretty clear now why Dad’s upset.
“Mom, is that true?”
You didn’t want to know, did you? It’s not like you don’t know how she is.
Fuck me. How long as she been doing it herself?
I hope I was paying her, but damn, knowing my mom, I wasn’t, especially since she also handles my money.
Mom’s giving me that look that says I’m being stupid, but she’s too nice to say it out loud.
Yeah, as a kid, I got that more than I’d like to admit.
“Well, honey, there were services for a while, but they charged so much and didn’t do a good job.
It was just easier to do it myself. It’s not really that much work, but your father would really like to do some traveling.
Maybe we can put it off for a few months.
The season is starting soon.” Mom looks at Dad but he shakes his head.
“No, Joyce, we’re going. He’ll be fine.” I know that voice, so I know he’s serious.
Now Dad looks annoyed at both me and Mom. Damn it. I get it. I fucked up.
“Okay, so what do I need to do from now on, Mom?” I can own this.
“Jesus, Liam, you’re twenty-eight years old.
Your mother isn’t going to give you a list for your own life.
Figure it out, son.” His face is full of hard lines and irritation, clearly trying not to let his anger loose.
He’s not wrong, but I’m suddenly feeling a bit defensive.
Sometimes I get caught up in hockey. I get that, but it’s not on purpose.
I never asked her to manage my life for me.
But you didn’t tell her not to, so whose fault is that?
Fuck. I should have, though. I really fucking should have. Because I know how they are about money. If I’d been paying attention, I would have seen it. Damn it. My chest tightens as my face heats, but I’m man enough to admit my mistakes.
“I’ll fix it, Dad.” Dad sighs and stands, pulling me in for another hug. Wow, two in one day. That’s a record for him.
Pop’s not big on physical affection. I don’t think my grandparents were very affectionate people. Dad doesn’t talk about them much, but when he does, it’s not to sing their praises. I want to ask about it, but I’m afraid of what he might say. They’re gone now, so I guess it doesn’t matter.
“I know, Liam. We love you, but it’s time for you to handle your own life.”
“I get it, Pop and I’m on it.” I pull her in for a goodbye hug. “I never meant to take advantage of you. I’m sorry that happened.”
“Oh, Liam. I love you with all my heart, and I’ve always enjoyed taking care of you. We’ll still be here if you need us.”
She pats my back and gives me a reassuring smile so I know all is forgiven in her book. Although I’m pretty sure I haven’t forgiven myself. That may take a while.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too.”
They walk me to the door, and she hands me a shopping bag full of paperwork and a Tupperware full of cookies. Gonna need my emotional support cookies to get through this mess.
“What’s this?” I hold up the bag.
“It’s all your paperwork. I’ve written everything down for you, and the spreadsheets are all saved on a portable hard drive. Everything should be in there.”
I wince. Spreadsheets. I think college was the last time I even used my laptop for anything other than a movie.
My chest tightens up, and I swallow against the dryness in my throat.
Looks like I’ll be revisiting those business classes.
I should have paid more attention. Hockey seemed so much more important back then.
I thank Mom for the cookies and give her one last hug. Dad claps me on the back and tells me to drive safely.
As I’m pulling away, my hands are shaking and my mind goes full speed ahead, trying to get a handle on everything that needs to be done.
I’m not sure where to begin, but this mistake is mine to fix, so I harden my resolve.
I promised Dad, and I won’t let him down, even if my life has become significantly more complicated. Adulting sucks.