Chapter 56
Chapter Fifty-Six
Savannah
Not a Single Game
I feel raw after telling Noah about Kinsey, and I hate that it upset him.
He’s trying to pretend he isn’t, probably because he doesn’t want to make me feel worse, like an unwanted burden.
I think it’s why he admits that his mom doesn’t go to any of his hockey games while we’re making midnight cookies.
Rather, I’m making cookies and he’s watching while sampling the dough.
Colt and David are home now, but other than huge grins when they see I’m there, they retreat to the living room for video games, which I think are just to ensure they’ll get cookies when they’re ready.
“Not a single game?” I ask Noah. No matter how busy our family was, there was never a single game that didn’t have at least one family member there, even if it was sometimes grandparents, an aunt, an uncle, or a cousin.
“No, well, she used to. My dad was in charge of six a.m. practices, but she’d come to most if not at all my games.”
“When did she stop?”
“When he died,” he admits. “She was at the arena when she found out, and she didn’t handle it well. The one time she tried to come back, it was just too painful.”
“I think she’s missing out,” I say in what I hope is a completely unbiased way, just about her son playing a game he loves, but I also absolutely love watching him.
“I don’t want to push her. But it meant a lot to have you there tonight. And when you bring Izzie. It’s nice looking up and having people there for me.”
I could let him drop it, but I can tell he’s not as okay with it as he claims.
“My mom used to try to protect my dad like that too. When they found out my mom was pregnant in college, he gave up on his football dreams in favor of a steady paycheck.”
“That’s…” Noah looks kind of like he’s resigned to making the same decision, which might explain why he was so opposed to dating. “Your mom tried to stop your brothers from playing sports? Or just football?”
“She would never stop us from something we wanted to do, but she made it so she was always the one handling football practice, making playdates for me on game days and making him be the one to take me.”
“You’re going to tell me avoiding it didn’t make it easier, the wound festered until he faced it?”
“No, my dad was fine. Or if he had any regrets, he hid them well, because we have never felt like anything other than the best things that ever happened to him. And we often bailed on those playdates so we could watch my brother’s games, which was great, because I had more fun in the stands with my dad than at a fake tea party with whichever classmate my mom scrounged up.
” My dad says he was never good enough to go pro, so his unrealistic dream was quickly replaced by building a family with my mom, which was easier to accomplish.
And he absolutely excels at it. “My mom was the one with the problem. With guilt over what happened. She was afraid of what she would see, so she didn’t let herself look.
But as the one who got to watch those early games with him, that joy on his face, that pride…
she was definitely missing out on something that would have made her cry way more happy tears than sad. ”
We eat the cookies in the living room with Colt and David, but Noah is staring at me like we should get upstairs ASAP, or he just might ravage me in the living room, so I shake my head and grin like an idiot when he asks if I want more cookies or something to drink before we head to bed.
“He doesn’t regret it,” David says to me on the staircase.
“What?” I ask, looking over to Noah in the kitchen, where he’s literally tossing our plates in the sink to save time.
“Your dad,” he stops me. “As soon as he made that decision, as soon as you and your siblings were something concrete rather than a distant possibility, there is no way he could regret choosing you.”
“How—”
“I’m here and I am playing, but I would give absolutely anything to not be.” The intensity in his eyes squeezes my heart, because I understand exactly what he’s saying, and had no idea. I don’t think any of them do.
“I am so sorry, David.”
He nods stoically. “I just wanted you to know he isn’t pretending; you probably are the greatest thing he’s ever done.”
I give him a sad smile, not sure what else I can say.
“You good?” Noah asks, catching up to us.
“Yep, all good,” David assures him as if the moment never happened.
“Goodnight,” I say before he disappears into his room.
“What was that about?” Noah asks me.
“Nothing,” I assure him, knowing that he would press any other time, but instead I giggle as he lifts me up in his arms to carry me into his bedroom.
My heart aches for David, but it’s also full, because I haven’t just somehow managed to get Noah.
For the first time since I was a little kid, I’m pretty sure I have friends.