34. Graham
THIRTY-FOUR
GRAHAM
What a wild and surprising day. Tanner’s visit was a total surprise, but a blast. It was like college all over again, with Eli camping out on my couch and Tanner sleeping in the guest room. Eli and he had played rock, paper, scissors for the extra bed. A best three out of five turned into a best five out of seven, into a best something out of whatever until Tanner finally lifted Eli up, threw him into the bed, and then ran and hid in the spare bedroom until Eli gave up shouting.
And that was only after I threatened to kick him out if he got the cops called on us.
Now, they were strapping on their skates. Eli’s were rentals, but he’d gotten them sharpened, and it wasn’t like he wouldn’t survive on borrowed skates for an hour. Tanner had brought his gear with him because he never went anywhere without it. I was helping Jonah lace up his.
“You ready for this?” I tapped his helmet. “New skates and new friends and everything?”
He grinned at me through his cage. “I’m always ready for new stuff.”
I didn’t doubt he was for a minute.
We’d been able to get some private skate time at the local arena. I was surprised Deer Creek even had one, but it was near the high school and used for youth hockey and figure skating. It took a couple of calls, and maybe some begging, but I’d wanted time with Jonah to myself.
Him getting to skate with two of my best friends and with excellent skates was an excellent bonus.
Even better? Holly was in the stands, phone in her lap, and I knew she’d be taking pictures. It was eighty degrees outside, but she was dressed like it was twenty in her winter coat, hat, and gloves.
Meanwhile, the guys and I were in long pants and short sleeves. Jonah was decked out in his hockey gear, insisting he had to wear it so he could practice better.
Who was I to refuse a kid who wanted to be the best he could possibly be? He was the kind of kid coaches dreamed of.
“All right.” I stepped out onto the ice, skated to the middle, and made an abrupt stop, sending ice shavings flying all over Tanner.
“What the he…h-e double hockey sticks?” he grumbled, and thank goodness he caught himself in time.
“You might be all pro soon and whatever, but I’m still better.”
“Fat fu—reaking chance.” He took off, chasing me across the ice. I was here for Jonah, but I couldn’t resist trying to race Tanner. He’d gotten faster over the years, definitely more built and more in shape, but I’d always been leaner. Quicker.
We raced around the ice, and on the left turn, I caught Eli talking to Jonah in the center. They were both cheering for us, Jonah’s little stick waving in the air. I’d thought I was still winning, but the scrape of Tanner’s skates was louder. Closer.
I glanced back and shouldn’t have. He reached out and grabbed my shirt. With a quick yank, he flung me to the wet ice. I slid until my back thumped into the boards. Neither of us had been going full speed apparently, and the fall wasn’t enough to hurt anything but my ego. Tanner skated to the center with his hands in the air and came to a stop exactly like I’d done to him, sending a wave of ice to the top of Jonah’s head.
“Hey!” he shouted, but there was laughter there too. I climbed to my feet and brushed ice off my pants.
I’d get Tanner back later. He could go pro, I thought as I skated to all of the guys in the middle. One of my best friends. This time next year, he could be at the end of a season with all his dreams and twenty-plus years of hard work behind him.
“Love you, man.” I squeezed his shoulder and gave him a shake. Let him see how proud I was of him in my eyes.
He gave me a chin tilt and looked down at Jonah. “So, you’ve grown since I last got pictures of you. How old are you now? Thirteen?”
Jonah giggled. “I’m seven!”
“That’s right. You ready to practice?”
“Always,” Jonah shouted. “Can you make me as good as you, Mr. Graham?”
I squatted down low. “Me? Tanner plays for a professional team. Maybe we can make you as good as him.”
“That’s right. I’m pretty awesome.”
Jonah shook his head. “I think you’re the best.”
I stood quickly and looked at Holly in the stands. She was smiling at us, perched on the edge of her seat like this was the most important game she’d ever seen.
Maybe it was.
With Jonah’s words, it was certainly about to be the most memorable of mine.
I’d told the guys last night about Jonah’s weakness and worries about shooting. Primary goal number one—give the kid some confidence while having fun.
“Remember what I said about the skates, right?”
Jonah nodded. “They need to be broken in, so I can’t be on them long. I have to either take lots of breaks or put on my old ones.”
“Right.” I held out my fist. His gloved hand punched mine right back.
We spent the next half an hour skating with Jonah. Tanner and Eli chased him around the ice. I set up obstacles for him to fly around, and every time he made one of his perfect passes, we pretended he’d scored a goal.
By the time he needed to change out his skates to prevent blisters and pain, he’d made three goals, never once dropping his shoulder or lifting it like he’d done at camp.
“I’m getting better, aren’t I?” he asked while I kneeled in front of him.
“Practice always does that, but do you want to know why I think you’re doing better today?”
“No.”
“Because you’re thinking about having fun. You’re not worried about missing. Or disappointing someone.”
“Well, I wasn’t really shooting at first. So it was fun. And it’s not a real game. It’s a fun one.”
“Can I tell you something important? Something all people who play sports should know?”
“What?” He chewed on his lip like he wasn’t quite certain.
“Kids should always be having fun when they’re playing a game. It’s hard work, and you want to win, everyone does. But the minute it stops being fun, it means you’ve played a minute too long.”
“Really?”
“I mean, that’s what I tell the kids I coach.”
I might have used more adult words, but the premise was true. I didn’t want teenagers with attitudes on my team, taking everything too seriously. It always led to pride and egos and unnecessary fights. I wanted them out there dying to win because they were having so much fun they didn’t want to skate off the ice. I figured the more you loved the game, the more fun you had playing it, the harder you’d play.
“Huh,” Jonah mumbled. “I didn’t think it should be only fun.”
“There’s hard work, sure.” I finished tying his skates and got him to his feet. “And there’s lots of practice. But what’s the point of doing something you’re not enjoying?”
“I dunno.” He was silent for a beat. “So does that mean I can shoot more?”
We had ten more minutes on the ice, so I sent him out to where Tanner and Eli were taking slap shots at each other. Unpadded. Unmasked.
Idiots.
“Graham.”
I immediately turned to Holly. She was at the boards, her face pale, phone in hand. “My doctor called.”
“Now?”
“She rushed them so I didn’t have to wait through another weekend. But…” Her gaze slid to Jonah.
“We can get him out of here, or they can take him to the restaurant or something.” I’d throw him in the car and take him with us, but if it was bad news…
“I can just go…”
“Absolutely not. No way. You’re not doing this alone.”
“Okay.” She shook her head, like she was trying to clear her mind, except even I could tell she wasn’t thinking straight. She was gone, lost to worst-case scenarios and fears I’d seen her try too hard this last week to fight.
“Eli!” I shouted and waved him over. He was there in a blink.
“What’s up?”
“Holly’s doctor called. We gotta go. Can you get Jonah back to town? He can hang at the restaurant.” I looked at Holly, who was staring at Jonah, but it was obvious she wasn’t seeing him. She was seeing him live a life without her. I needed to get her to the doctor, get those results in. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. You need us to leave now?”
“No, in ten minutes or so, you’ll have to get off when a figure skating lesson starts. You good?”
“What am I going to tell him?” she asked, still staring at him.
This was Holly, by now I understood. Her default was negativity and fears. Warranted given the life she had.
“Tell Jonah his mom had a stomachache, and I took her home for medicine,” I told Eli and reached for Holly’s hand. “Then later, you can tell him you feel all better.”
“But…”
“You will be. You’ll be just fine, remember?”
She stared at our hands and slowly lifted her face to meet mine. “I’ll be okay.”
It wasn’t much, but it took all she had. I squeezed her hand. “That’s the spirit.”
“Go,” Eli said. “We’ve got Jonah, and we’ll be at The Grille unless we hear from you. And good luck. Chin up, Holly. Could be nothing, remember?”
“Right.”
I dropped to the bench and tore off my skates and slipped into my sandals. I looked ridiculous, but who cared.
Holly needed me, and I needed her to be healthy, so I needed to get to the doctor as soon as we could.
* * *
“Holly Jones?”
The nurse might as well have shot a handgun for as loud as her voice was. In the silent waiting room, she could have whispered and still been heard. As it was, Holly jumped to her feet and squeezed my hand so hard the bones almost cracked.
She didn’t apologize, and I didn’t notice. It wasn’t even the first or sixth time she’d done that since we checked in and took our seats.
The nurse guided us down a hall, one left and then a right, and then we were being led into an office.
Not an exam room like I’d expected. Holly dropped into one of the faux-leather seats, and I took the other. She still hadn’t let go of my hand, but she hadn’t said much either. The only way I knew she knew I was there was the death grip on my hand.
I wasn’t complaining. If she needed to break all the bones in both of my hands, I’d happily hand them over so she could get through this.
“Dr. Myers will be just a minute,” the nurse said. She set a file on a flat-looking screen that was definitely not a computer and then left and closed the door.
“The results are in that file,” Holly mumbled. “I don’t even think I want to know anymore.”
I adjusted in my seat so I was facing her as best I could, gripped the armrest of her chair with my free hand, and gave it a quick tug. It angled, and Holly was faced to look at me.
“It could be dozens of things. Fibroids. Something else. Endometriosis. Constipation.”
That last one broke the icy facade she’d worn before we left the rink. “I’m not constipated.”
“It says it’s a symptom.” I went on teasing, and it helped. At least a little because she smiled, and my fingers weren’t in immediate peril.
“You’ll be okay either way. I checked, Holly. Even if it is the worst, the survival rates are high, and you’re young. You’re flying to the worst-case scenario because that’s the way you’ve always lived, but life isn’t always one step away from death and ruin.”
“I’m trying to believe that. I’m trying, but it’s so hard.”
Two quick thumps hit the door, and then it opened.
Holly’s face paled, and this time I think she broke my pinkie.
I faced the doctor and tried to read her expression as she closed the door, kept her face blank, and gave me nothing.
“Thanks for coming in today,” she said. “Sorry for the late notice, but like I said on the phone, I didn’t want you to wait longer.” She gave me a passing glance and went back to Holly.
“I have good news and bad. Which would you like first?”