Chapter 24 #2
“Because Dad is …” I look over at the bar to see my dad and Papa both laughing.
“He’s Dad. He loves me.” I cringe. “Sometimes, I think he loves me too much. Can you imagine how sad he would be if he thought …” The words die in my throat for a split second.
“If he thought that he wasn’t enough for me?
” I sniffle. “It’s never been about him being enough. I just … I got curious—that’s all.”
“And what about now, sweetie?” Nena asks just as my mom puts her hand on mine.
“Now I hope I never see him again,” I admit.
“I have no interest in getting to know him, I swear. That’s another reason why I never said anything to you.
He looked right through me, like I wasn’t there.
And as bad as that hurt, in that moment, I guess that was necessary.
It told me that I had everything I would ever need. And he’s not among them.”
“That awful motherfucker,” Nena hisses, and my mom doesn’t even look surprised.
“I’m so sorry that we sent you there, baby,” my mom whispers. “If we had known he would be there, we never would have, I promise.”
“It’s okay,” I say, giving her a tiny smile just so she knows that I’m all right with it. “But please, don’t say anything to Dad. I don’t want him to think that I felt like he wasn’t enough.” I inhale a shaky breath. “I know, now more than ever, that he’s more than enough.”
Somehow, my parents never found out because Brody kept his promise to me—though I’m sure it killed him.
But I meant what I said to my mom. That day was the one thing I needed to just let it go.
I’m just sorry that it even took that one encounter for me to realize that I didn’t need that guy in my life.
Both my mom’s and grandmother’s mouths open to say something else, but before they get the chance, Papa and my dad land back at the table. And even though I know it’ll bother my mom to keep something from my dad, she knows deep down that it would only hurt him.
My dad plops down next to me. “Sorry about that. What did I miss?”
All of us girls look at each other, and my grandmother’s face is still pale from when I told her that I saw Nick. “You didn’t miss anything at all, Dad,” I assure him. “Nothing at all.”
No matter how over it I am, I know that if it wasn’t for Hendrix breathing with me through my panic attack that day … it would have been much worse. So, I guess I have at least that to thank him for.
HENDRIX
Lacing up my sneakers, I pull my phone out of my bag and read the highlights from the women’s game—not surprised at all that Isla fucking killed it.
Tonight, we played my old college, Casco Bay. And I felt two inches tall when I skated onto the ice, knowing that, after the way I acted there last year, I had a lot of hate coming my way.
I caused fights and was a complete dick, and to be honest, this was the game I was dreading the most out of the entire season.
Playing against my old teammates was weird, but I never had friendships with them like I do the guys on my team now.
That was my fault, too, because I never took the time to get to know any of them.
“You good, Hunt?” Coach Huff says, walking into the locker room. “I’m sure tonight’s game was weird, but I’ll tell you, if you were feeling off, I never noticed. You played a great game.”
“Thanks,” I say, tucking my phone into my pocket. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now, Coach included. But no matter how many times I fuck up, he seems to stick by my side, so I know that I need to respect the man and not be a tool just because I’m in a terrible mood. “I’m good, Coach.”
I’m not sure if he believes me, but he nods his head subtly.
“Glad to hear it.” He looks around the locker room. “All right, fellas, bus leaves in ten minutes. Get your asses outside,” he yells, clapping his hands together and prompting a bunch of guys to quickly scurry to get their shit packed up.
Standing, I follow behind Cash and Jameson as they make their way out of the locker room and down the hallway. I tune everyone out, creating tunnel vision while I head straight through the door and outside.
The bus is pulled up to the sidewalk, with the lights on and the players inside on perfect display as they move around to get their spots. I’m halfway there when a voice stops me.
“Hendrix,” the voice calls. “Son, can I talk to you for a minute?”
I know it’s my dad before I even look that way, but when I slowly dare to face him, Cash turns around.
“You good, man?” he asks, glancing from me to my old man.
I want to tell him no, and then I want to keep walking onto the bus and ignore the man who has suddenly shown up after a game, acting like he cares.
My childhood was a fucking nightmare because of the man standing behind me.
Maybe my mother played a role in it, too, but she’s dead now, so who the fuck knows?
But more importantly, my sister’s life was a nightmare because of him, and now, it’s hard to tell where the fuck she even is.
And yet, no matter how much I want to walk away from him, leaving him on the sidewalk, alone—because, truly, that’s what he deserves—I can’t.
“Yeah,” I sigh, slinging my bag higher on my shoulder. “I’ll be there in a second.”
Reluctantly, Cash heads onto the bus, though he turns around once more before leaving me alone with a man I’ve hated for most of my life. And I have no idea why he’s here.
“What are you doing at my game?” I mutter, taking a step toward him and out of the way of the other players loading onto the bus.
I don’t know how he knew this is where I’d be tonight, but out of all the people I expected to be outside this arena right now, he was last on the list.
Okay, Isla was last on the list, but he was pretty close to it.
“Hendrix, I’m so sorry,” he whispers shamefully.
“I’m sorry for being such a bad father. I’m sorry for putting you through everything I did.
” He stares at me. “The reason why I never came around after I got cleaned up is because I figured I had put you and your sister through enough. I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again—and I wouldn’t blame you for that either. ”
“You were right.” I nod. “I don’t want to see you.”
“I understand,” he murmurs. “But please don’t think for a second that I haven’t thought about you since I finally got off drugs.
I think about you and Lilly every day. I ask myself how the hell I ever treated two kids, my own kids, that bad.
” He looks down. “I’ve known where every single game of yours has been.
I even came to one last year at this arena. ”
“What?” I blurt out. “You’re lying.”
He takes a step toward me, and even though I want to back up and get away from him, I don’t.
“I may not have been able to find out where Lilly was—God knows I lost the right to that information a long time ago. But I’ve never stopped following your journey, Hendrix.
So, while I won’t blame you if you tell me to get out of here and never come around you again, I just needed you to know.
I didn’t come around because I didn’t want to cause any more pain in your life than I already had. ”
I stare at this guy, realizing I don’t actually know who he really is. But every nightmare I lived through at his hands is etched into my brain like a permanent tattoo. I can’t forget. And I can’t forgive either.
When Coach Talmage and Coach Huff head toward us, making their way over to the bus, I swallow, gripping the strap of my bag nervously.
“I … I have to go,” I mumble. “My team is leaving.”
I only recognize the hurt on his face for a second before I look away. I should be basking in his pain, not cringing to see it. I know one thing to be true: I will never trust this man again.
“I understand.” I can hear the grimace in his voice. “Take care, son. And just know … I’m so sorry. And … I’m so proud of you.”
It feels like someone is stabbing a knife straight into my heart, and I have to get away right now. So I don’t say anything else. I just turn away from him and walk onto the bus.
And after the lights turn off and the door closes, we pull away from the curb. And I don’t look to see if he stays on the sidewalk and watches or turns his back.
Because either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m leaving him in the past because that’s where he belongs.
The bus drives on, and my mind keeps circling back to the man I left on the sidewalk. A heavy feeling tugs in my stomach, and I fucking hate myself for it because he doesn’t deserve my guilt.
I try to imagine if life would have been different for any of us if my mother hadn’t died.
Maybe she would have gotten sober eventually and moved us out of that house.
Or maybe my dad loved her so much that if she’d said to choose between her or drugs, he would have chosen her, and we all would have lived happily ever after.
I picture my parents sitting at a dining room table on a Friday night, eating pizza and laughing.
Sometimes, I would do that growing up because by the time I got old enough to look around and see everyone else’s lives and family dynamic, I wanted that for myself even though I couldn’t have it.
My escape was my mind, until finally … hockey became my escape, and the teams I was on sort of became family.
At least, they tried to, but I always seemed to sabotage every friendship I had.
I think I wanted to sever ties before someone did it to me.
Hurt them before they got a chance to hurt me first.
The picture of my family sitting at the table fades away, and I rest my head against the window, my mind traveling to a place that takes the guilt away. A place where I can say fuck my old man and not feel bad about it.
“Mom?” I said again for what was probably the fifth time.
She was sleeping. She slept a lot, so that wasn’t surprising, and it usually took me a few tries to wake her up. This time though, her face was pale, and she didn’t look the way she had the other times. I reached for her hand, but when hers was cold, I pulled mine away.
Something wasn’t right, and I knew it. But whatever it was, I didn’t understand. How could I? I didn’t know what my parents were up to and why they always were out of it. I just assumed that was how most parents were.
My dad was in his bedroom—that was where he had been most of the day—and I knew better than to bother him when he had the door closed.
I didn’t want to bother my mom either. Sometimes, she could be as mean as my dad was, but Lilly was crying.
She needed something to eat, and I couldn’t find anything in our house.
I was only five, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t know what to feed my toddler sister, and I couldn’t reach the top cabinets to check for crackers or something, even with a chair pushed over to it.
I looked at Lilly and was scared that if I didn’t feed her, if I didn’t make her stop crying, she wouldn’t make it. And without my sister, I didn’t have anyone else. She was it, and all she wanted was something to eat.
I took one last look at my mom before I glanced down the hallway at the closed door, and I reached for my little sister’s hand. “Come on, sissy,” I said.
What a sight we must have been—a five-year-old and a two-year-old walking down the shitty sidewalk, trudging toward their only form of salvation.
Juliet’s house.
I knew she would feed my sister without thinking twice, and I hoped that she had a clean Pull-Up for her too. I didn’t think my parents had bought them in a while, and I couldn’t find any in our house.
“I’m cold.” My sister said two words that maybe most people wouldn’t understand, but after being with her all day, every day, for the past few years, I knew what she was saying.
“Almost there,” I said back, pushing my long hair away from my face to see better. I held my finger up and pointed to Juliet’s small blue house. “See, right there, sissy,” I reassured her, like I was actually an adult or some shit.
A minute later, I was knocking on the door, and right away, we were greeted by Juliet. She took one look at both of us, and her eyes became glossy. She was always trying to help us once she knew we lived in that house. But unfortunately, our parents weren’t always the nicest to deal with.
“Get in here,” she said, yanking the door the rest of the way open. “Let’s get you fed, and then you’d both better take a bath.”
“Feed Lilly first. She’s very hungry.” I said even though my stomach rumbled.
I was the older one. It was my job to make sure Lilly was taken care of first. After all, no one else was going to help her besides Juliet and me.
“I’ll feed you both,” she answered sternly. “How about that?”
I smiled at her, and I wished I didn’t have to leave. I wanted to stay there forever. It was warm and clean. And I wouldn’t have to listen to my baby sister cry because she was hungry. A noise that would forever haunt me, I was sure.
My throat burns as I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut.
When tears threaten to spill, I’m grateful that it’s dark on this bus and that I got to sit alone.
My pulse is racing, and my stomach feels sick.
A lot of the shitty times, I try to push them down and not remember them.
But right now, I need to think about them.
I have to remember why I can’t let my old man back in.
That was the last time I saw my mom. By the time I returned home, she had been taken away.
The worst part about my sister being gone is that I can’t be there to make sure she’s okay.
And the worst part when it comes to losing Isla?
The same fucking thing.
I can’t be there to hold her if she has a panic attack. Or remind her how great she is, despite her biological dad being a piece of shit. I can’t do any of that. Once again, I’m useless.
The people I’m supposed to take care of, I always lose. And yet, my dad—a man I never wanted to see again—is showing up instead.
Fuck that. He made his bed. He’ll have to sleep in it.