Chapter Twenty-Four
Aiden
I never appreciated this porch when I was young.
Kids never notice the beauty around them until it is too late.
By the time I realised how beautiful my childhood home was I had already moved to Seattle, I traded open fields and glowing sunsets for a built-up city covered in rain and smog.
I make sure to take time to look at this beauty whenever I’m home, though I wish now that I came home more often.
We have all been sharing stories about Pops and, sure, there are ones we all remember but the girls have so many more that I have missed out on because I ran away.
I was so desperate to make being a professional athlete worth the sacrifices that I stopped showing up.
I missed Celia’s high school graduation, for God’s sake.
She is my baby sister and I was too busy.
They don’t hold it against me, but I do.
I wish I could clone myself, have one of me here all the time, sat here on this porch swing so I never miss something important again.
While other me goes back to Seattle and brings home the Stanley Cup.
If I did that though, I would have to clone Lyndsey too, because there is no way I could not have her around.
She can be here, be my soft landing when everything feels out of my control, and then she can be in Seattle with me because I can’t imagine going back without her.
It feels like she fills all of the cracks I didn’t know I had.
She is the string pulling the broken parts of me back together.
When I feel lacking she is there telling me all the good I have done.
When I think about how much I missed she reminds me that I was here when they needed me most.
My job is to be a raft. I hold my team up so they can win.
I hold my sisters when they cry. I fight against choppy waters so nobody else has to face the danger.
I know the words the public associates with me.
Womaniser. Loose cannon. Those days need to be behind me.
If I can’t do that, if I crumble, I’ll pull everyone under with me.
That is my biggest fear. I admitted it to Lyndsey last night as she lay with her head on my chest. Spoke the words for the first time.
“If I break, I can’t keep them safe.” The words drifted away in the late-night air.
At first Lyndsey didn’t say a word. She shifted so her chin rested on my chest, looking up at me with so much warmth my heart spluttered inside. “Who keeps you safe?” she asked.
“What?”
“You can’t expect to be the rock for everyone you know, all that weight will drown you.” Her words were soft but the impact was a force against all of the walls around my heart.
“I don’t know how to do anything else.” I spoke around a lump in my throat, threatening to break me.
“Share the weight, I can take it.”
She has proven that time and again since Pops’ death. I’m just so worried that if I give her the weight, it will be what pushes her away. What pushes her to a divorce lawyer when we touch down next week.
Supporting me would be one thing, but she hasn’t just done that, she has stepped up for my sisters.
Even though I told her they would love her, there was a small part of me that thought they would ice her out, especially Alice.
Then when Alice saw through my lies before the end of day one, I was sure she would tell Eden and Cece, but she didn’t.
She accepted Lyndsey – hell, she told me to make her my wife for real.
I can’t begin to explain how much it means that they want her around.
At every turn Lyndsey has stepped in to help.
Whether it was the funeral flowers or silently cleaning so we didn’t have to.
She was the raft, she was the person keeping us on the path to grieving.
She didn’t give us anywhere to hide. It would have been easy to push the grieving aside, to busy myself with housework with the excuse I didn’t want the girls to have to do it but she didn’t let me.
By being here Lyndsey forced me to grieve, forced me to face the fears that I’m not enough, and I’ll be forever grateful.
A million thank yous will never be enough.
There will never be enough kisses or bouquets of flowers that could articulate how important Lyndsey has been to me.
I’m going to find a way. That is why I’m sat on the porch swing while the girls watch some cheese-filled romcom in the TV room.
They have popcorn and the works, for a perfect movie night.
I was kicked out, no boys allowed apparently.
I could have gone into town, maybe gone to the rink to get some practice in, but I just couldn’t.
The thought of being half an hour away from Lyndsey was too far.
I feel pathetic, we aren’t even a real married couple. Not the way Pops and Lulu were. For Lyndsey, she only has to be married to me for a few more weeks, but the thought of letting this all go feels wrong. As the time draws nearer to go back home, the dread sinks in deeper.
She was right when she said it was going to be complicated.
If she demands the divorce, then I’ll agree.
It was always the understanding we had. But the idea of having to be around her afterwards is hard.
I’ll have to see her laugh with Ellis, spar with Edge and play with Charlotte without being able to act how I truly want with her.
How am I supposed to heal my heart when she is going to be right there every step of the way?
Shit, if she really wants the divorce it has crossed my mind that I might have to trade to a different team.
I would rather leave Seattle altogether, leave the team I love and the guys I respect than have my heart shatter watching her move on from me.
Maybe if I find a way to thank her enough I can show her how important she is to me, how much I care about her.
I just don’t know how. Words aren’t my forte, sport is my forte, sweat and pushing men against the boards is my forte.
I wish I had my mom at times like this. She would know what to do, parents always do.
As a kid I would watch her with awe, the way she could raise us basically alone with a smile on her face.
Lyndsey reminds me of my mom sometimes, not the way they look but the way their hearts are plastered on their sleeves.
Even though it must have killed Mom, raising three kids, pregnant with a fourth while my dad was across the world, she never complained.
She didn’t yell at him or beg him to come home, she was a lighthouse, strong and steady on the edge of a choppy sea, bright and safe to welcome him home when his tours ended.
That’s when it hits me.
Letters.
If they were good enough for Mom and Dad maybe they will be good enough for Lyndsey.
I might take a few drafts, thank the lucky stars that the film is only just starting.
Darting back into the house, I jog up the stairs like lightning, pulling sheets of paper from Cece’s notebooks – I’ll buy her a new one if I run through this one.
It needs to be perfect, just like the woman I’m writing it for.
I was right, I needed nearly the whole notepad.
Who knew spelling was so hard when you don’t have autocorrect?
It has been a long time since I wrote more than a few words down on paper – technology will be our downfall and all that nonsense.
But it was worth it, as I look down at my chicken-scratch handwriting I’m proud and anxious in equal measure.
Proud that I found the words, that I know I got out everything I wanted to.
Anxious at the thought of giving it to her.
It could be too much. I’m giving her physical proof of how much she owns me.
If she doesn’t feel the same, if she isn’t ready to let me in, this might all have been for nothing.
Hey Darlin’
Mom’s letter has been on my mind all day. I remember her writing them, the joy on her face. The release it would give her to get her feeling onto the page. I need that release. You have shown me that I deserve relief and peace. So I want to thank you.
Lyndsey Stone (Anders), I’m endlessly grateful for you. You have done more than I ever deserve and I don’t think you have any idea how much you have stepped up.
You stayed married to me. This could have been over a long time ago for you.
I know you had your own reasons for staying in this with me, but I know deep down you could have tucked and run at any time.
Told me to shove my problems up my ass. But you are too kind for that.
I saw in your eyes, when I told you about the will that first time, I could see the outrage you felt on my behalf.
You were ready to burn the world to help me get Dad’s belongings.
You didn’t have to do it. Yet you did. For me.
When you met my sisters, you could have kept them out.
It probably would have been easy to keep a wall between you and them, claimed you were shy.
Instead you got to know them. Each of them.
You made room in your heart for them and I can see how much you care about them.
They might not be your blood but you have made them your sisters.
When Pops died you could have left. He was not your family, you hardly knew the man and funerals suck for everyone.
But you not only stayed, you helped. You gave me perspective when tensions got high, you ran around for us so we could focus on supporting each other.
The flowers are something we would have let fall to the wayside but because of you they were a beautiful tribute to him.
Then there’s me. When I could so easily have shut down and used planning the funeral or helping the girls to hide from myself you made me face it.
You have given me room to feel my emotions without judgement.
You can tease me but I know you want me to be happy.
And you make me happy. Each night when I hold you in my arms, I feel invincible, like as long as you are by my side I’ll be able to overcome whatever life might throw at us.
Because that’s the truth, Lyndsey, you have been here for me and I will do the same for you.
Even when you are no longer my wife I want to be the person you can lean on.
It would be my honour to hold your hand when you need someone by your side.
I cannot think of a better way to thank you than to prove to you that I’m going to be there.
I see you, Lyndsey, see the mask you hide behind because you fear no one will stay if they see you, but it’s not true.
I’ll stay. Ellis will stay. The Spears showed up for me last week but they were here for you too because I might be their captain but they would follow you to war.
I know you aren’t comfortable talking in detail about everything that happened with your family.
One day I hope you trust me enough to lean on me completely because I’m your family now.
I’ll see you and stay because every person who meets you is pulled into your orbit.
There is nowhere else I would rather be.
Thank you, my darlin’, the words will never be enough but for now it is all I have.
Always, Your Cowboy.
By the time the letter is finished, the film has ended and Lyndsey has jumped in the shower.
I was lucky that she was so tired that she didn’t ask questions about what I was doing.
As much as I have revealed myself in that letter I’m still a coward.
I don’t think I have the strength to sit in the same room as her while she reads it.
Plus I think it will take the pressure off of her to be able to read it in her own time without worrying about giving me a reaction.
I leave the letter folded with her name written on the side against her pillow before I escape back out to the porch swing.
Celia is reading on the sofa when I walk past and seeing her so relaxed is a balm to my soul.
She has taken Pops’ death hard, losing the only parental figure in her life threw her.
She is the baby, I think it is a reminder of everything she has lost. Taking a quick detour, I lean over the back of the couch, placing a light kiss on the crown of her head, making her smile at me.
“If Lynds is looking for me, I’m just gettin’ some air.”
“Sure thing, you good?” She drops the book to her chest, tipping her head over the cushion to meet my eyes.
“I’m good, Cece. I love you, you know that, right?” I’ll make sure the people I care about know it. I need to tell them more often. Especially before Lyndsey and I go back home.
“Love you right back,” she says, shooing me away so she can get back to her book.
I pace outside joined only by the sound of cicadas and the hum of birds overhead.
I love this porch so I shouldn’t pace a hole in the wood but I can’t imagine staying still.
My blood feels electric pumping through my heart, it beats so fiercely that I can hear my blood in my ears.
Every single creak I hear I think might be Lyndsey coming to find me and every time it is the sound of the old house settling.
I probably stand out here for five minutes and not the five hours it feels like until eventually the front door opens.