Chapter 32
MAREK
Meeting the parents. Christ on toast, what am I doing?
I’m sweating, that’s what I’m doing.
We’ve driven about an hour and a half north into Connecticut with my GPS directing us to the town of Beaver Falls.
We have a few days off before the first round of the playoffs start, and Nikki needs to talk to her parents, so here we are. I’m about to meet the parents.
I glance at her in the passenger seat, her fingers twisted together. Shit. She’s more anxious about this than I am. I need to get over myself and be there for her.
“Okay?” I ask.
She smiles at me and gives a quick nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”
I reach over and squeeze her hand. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“Yeah.”
I know how much she wants to make her parents proud. How much she hates disappointing them. But she told me about her meeting in Los Angeles and how she stood up for herself, and I have all the confidence in the world that she can handle this, too.
Her parents live on Lakeside Road, and I pull onto the property down a narrow paved lane.
I like the stone columns on either side of the entrance, and the budding greenery all around us.
It’s very private and peaceful, yet the town of Beaver Falls is only a few minutes away.
Then we see the house and my eyes widen.
This place has amazing potential, but right now it’s…
kind of a shack. A large shack, though, with multiple wings that probably were additions at some point, faced with worn gray wood that looks like a barn.
“They’re working on it,” Nikki says with a grin. “They’re doing the inside first.”
“It’s nice. I like the location.”
“I’m kind of a city girl.” She undoes her seatbelt as I come to a stop. “But this is pretty.”
We walk up to the house and the door opens before we even get there.
I assume this is Nikki’s mom. She beams a smile at us.
She’s really pretty although she doesn’t look like Nikki.
Her hair is probably the same dark brown as Nikki’s but she has blonde highlights in it, and it’s in a stylish layered style that brushes her shoulders.
She throws her arms open for a hug. Nikki dashes into her embrace.
“How are you, sweetie?” her mother asks in a gentle tone.
“I’m doing better.” Nikki smiles. “A lot better.”
Her mom looks at me. “And you must be Marek.”
“That’s me.” I smile and step forward, hand outstretched. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Sullivan.”
“Oh, call me Elizabeth. I’m happy to meet you, too. Come in, come in. I wish you were staying longer than just lunch. You need to come and spend some time here, Nikki, it would be nice and restful for you.”
Hmmm. I thought her parents wanted her to work all the time.
We step into the foyer and holy crap, I’ve never seen so much wood. Knotty pine panels all the walls. The floor is wide wood planks. The staircase and railing to the second floor are all the same wood. It’s definitely a very, uh, rustic look.
“Hello!” A man appears in front of us. “You made it.”
“We made it.” Nikki hugs her dad. He’s only a few inches taller than her mom, and looks like a fit guy, with graying brown hair, a short gray and white beard and mustache, and black glasses.
Nikki introduces us.
“Call me Jack,” her dad says, shaking my hand and giving me an assessing look.
“Good to meet you, Jack.”
“Have a seat.” Elizabeth gestures to the living room. More knotty pine. And a huge brick fireplace in one wall. Wood beams span the white ceiling, which is a little break from the wood.
I sit on a brown leather couch and Nikki joins me.
“Would you like coffee? Tea? Something cold?” Elizabeth asks.
“Coffee would be great,” I say.
“I’ll have tea,” Nikki says. “Have you got something herbal?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth says. “I have that cranberry apple one you like.”
“Perfect.”
Jack takes a seat in a chair opposite us, a large square coffee table between us.
“This is a great property,” I say. “Fantastic location.”
“We really like it. We spent years in the city, so this is a nice change. I’ll show you around and you can see the work we’ve done so far.”
We make small talk until Elizabeth returns with a tray with four cups on it and sets them on the coffee table for us. She picks up her own steaming mug and sits in the chair next to her husband. “So this is a nice surprise.”
Her eyes shine with curiosity.
“I have news,” Nikki says, then sips her tea. “I’ve decided to make my home in New York full time.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth and Jack exchange a glance. “That’s great news.”
Nikki blinks. “It… is?”
“You’ll be closer! We’ll see you more often.”
I bite back a smile.
“Yes,” Nikki says slowly. “I’ll still have to travel, but I’ll be here more often.”
“Will that cause problems for you?” Jack asks. “Aren’t your people all in Los Angeles?”
“Most of them,” she agrees. “They’re mostly willing to make adjustments, even the guys in the band.”
“That’s great,” he says. “Of course they are. They get to work with you.”
Relief passes over her features and she fills her parents in on more details, then says, “They weren’t too impressed at first about the move. In the end, I had to tell them I’m doing it whether they’re with me or not.”
Elizabeth’s gaze slides over to me. “Is this because of Marek?”
Nikki turns to look at me, then faces her parents. “Yes.”
“I knew it!” Elizabeth smiles. “Why else would you have been staying in his apartment? And why else would you bring him here to meet us?”
Nikki smiles, too.
Jack isn’t smiling. The stare he’s giving me could shrivel my nads. Jesus. That sweat breaks out under my arms again in a prickly heat.
“Well,” he says. “I look forward to getting to know you better.”
He looks like he’s looking forward to breaking my kneecaps.
I stretch my face into a smile. “Likewise, sir.”
This begins the interrogation. I’m bombarded with questions about hockey, my career, and my family. Nikki reaches for my hand and holds it while we talk, jumping in occasionally, and I slowly relax. They seem like good people who love their kids and want the best for them.
“Grayson’s mad that he couldn’t make it today,” Elizabeth says. “But school is almost done and once he’s finished exams he’s coming home for a visit.”
“Speaking of Gray,” Nikki says. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows pull together. “What is it?”
“You know I’ve been going for therapy,” Nikki says. “And my therapist brought up the possibility that I have wounds from my childhood that were keeping me from being able to deal with the accident.”
“Wounds from your childhood?” Elizabeth’s eyebrows leap upward. “What kind of wounds?”
Nikki pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “Well.” She clears her throat. “You told me I would never be a success in music unless I learned to focus. Unless I learned to be more disciplined and less impulsive. And I thought that if I didn’t succeed, I’d be letting you down.”
Elizabeth makes a noise in her throat, and Jack’s eyebrows pull down in puzzlement.
“But then…” Nikki’s tongue slides over her lip. “I talked to Gray and I asked him if he felt that way and he didn’t. I mean, he thinks you’d be disappointed if he doesn’t play well, but he said you don’t hassle him about when it happens.”
“Hassle him? Good heavens, no.”
“But… I always felt like I had to please you.”
Elizabeth’s brown eyes go wide. Jack’s eyebrows tug together. “What do you mean by that?”
She tells them how she felt growing up, the things that hurt her at school, or with friends, and how she felt when her parents lectured her about discipline and planning and not being impulsive.
“But then when I talked to Gray about it, and he said you don’t do that to him, I realized that he has a different personality and that you probably never had to be on him all the time to stay organized. ”
“We had other things we had to be on him about,” Jack says dryly. “You’re right, you two are very different.”
“That’s a parent’s job,” Elizabeth adds. “To help their kids be their best selves. But…” Her eyes shadow. “It wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”
“I never thought you meant to hurt me,” Nikki says quickly.
“I know your intentions were good. But it… affected me. I tried so hard to be perfect all the time. And I’ve learned that apparently perfectionism is a response to believing you have to please others.
Also, I got so much praise for my voice, I felt like that was what made me worth something. Like the rest of me didn’t matter.”
“Ohhh.” Elizabeth gazes at Nikki, her eyes shiny. She covers her mouth with her hands, glancing at Jack. “Oh, sweetheart. I wish I’d known this.”
Nikki nods. “I know. I wish I’d talked to you about it.”
“We can talk about it now.” Elizabeth brushes a hand over one eye.
Maybe I shouldn’t be here for this family talk. But Nikki is still gripping my hand like she never wants to let go and there’s no way I won’t be here if she wants me to.
“After the concert disaster, I felt guilty about what happened,” she tells them. “I felt responsible. That was so far from perfect.”
“You were not responsible for what happened!” Elizabeth says on a gasp.
“What the fuck,” Jack mutters, frowning.
“I’m learning that. I’m working on it. But I did feel responsible, and I felt guilty that people died and got hurt, and I felt guilty that I didn’t.”
Elizabeth’s eyes close and she slowly lowers and raises her chin. “Yes. I know that happens to people who survive something like that.”
“And I felt I was letting you down in the worst way possible.”
She’s holding herself together impressively. I release her hand to rub her back.
“You did not let us down in any way,” Elizabeth says. “Ever.”
“Jesus.” Jack seems reduced to curses.
“Even when I put on weight from eating too much sourdough bread?”
Elizabeth’s jaw unhinges. “What? Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “No. I’m so sorry, sweetie. That was a stupid comment. You’re beautiful.”