Chapter 12 Brendan
TWELVE
Brendan
When I knock on Scarlett’s hotel door the next morning, it only takes her a few seconds to reach it—a sign she’s either feeling better or very good at faking it.
“You’re actually walking?” I ask. “No pain?”
She looks well-rested, which is more than I can say for myself.
“I took some ibuprofen, and when I woke up, I felt better.” She demonstrates by standing on one foot. “The good news is you don’t have to carry me anywhere today.”
“So I should cancel the wheelchair I ordered for the game?”
Her eyes widen. “You ordered a wheelchair for me?”
“No, but I was seriously considering it.”
“Well, thank you, Dr. Marco,” she teases. “But I don’t need your assistance. Today I’m fully functional and planning to enjoy that buffet in the staff box that I completely ignored yesterday.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She pastes on that same smile she uses at the coffee shop, the one reserved for customers.
Something inside me bristles. I already miss the girl from last night. The one who stopped pretending, just for one night.
“Would you actually tell me if you were in pain?” I ask, narrowing my gaze. “Because based on past experience, I doubt it.”
She rolls her eyes. “Brendan, you don’t need to worry about me. I appreciated the help last night, but I’m perfectly fine today. Now go take care of whatever coaches do before games.”
She shoos me away, but before I leave, I add, “Don’t twist an ankle dancing alone in your hotel room,” just in time for the door to slam in my face.
Unfortunately, today’s game is a heartbreaker. From missed passes to shots that refuse to go in, we end the third period losing three to one. I make a note to mix up the team drills this week and focus harder on shooting and passing.
When Jakowski sees me writing down a practice plan, he just grunts under his breath. “Forget it. They need to watch game footage. See their mistakes on the ice.”
“How’s that going to motivate them?” I challenge. It seems like pointing out their worst is the opposite of helping them to reach their best.
“It won’t.” He shrugs. “But they need the truth. They won’t make the Calder Cup playoffs if they’re playing like that.”
The team bus is quiet as we head back to the Ice House Arena. Scarlett falls asleep listening to another audiobook, but this time she seems determined not to use me as her personal pillow. Instead, she props her bag on her lap as a barrier while I watch a replay of today’s game.
We’re almost home when a message comes through from my sister.
Carmen
I just found out Laila can’t make it to my wedding. My maid of honor broke her leg in Switzerland!
Brendan
Uh-oh. What happened?
Carmen
A ski accident in the Alps that started with her filming a cute TikTok and ended with her skiing into a snowbank. She broke her leg in three places and now needs surgery. She’ll be spending the next month recovering there.
Brendan
Oof. That’s rough.
Laila might be insufferable, but my sister genuinely loves her, which means I need to be careful how I handle this. But she still has two other bridesmaids left—Jaz, whom we’ve been friends with for years, and also Taylor, Aunt Elana’s daughter.
Carmen
Scarlett’s coming, right?
Brendan
Yeah.
Carmen
Good. Because I want you to ask her to take Laila’s place.
Brendan
Wait. You mean as a bridesmaid?
Carmen
Uh, yes?? What else would I mean
Brendan
I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Carmen
Why not? She’s your girlfriend, and our mothers have been friends for years. She’s almost like family already.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, already feeling the pressure building in my chest. Scarlett only agreed to come to the family events for the week. If she’s a bridesmaid, she’ll have to come to everything. All of the wedding festivities with me.
Brendan
Don’t you have other friends you could ask?
Carmen
Bren. PLEASE. I’m desperate here
I start typing a response, then delete it, then start again.
Brendan
I don’t want to pressure her.
Carmen
This is literally a family emergency. Just ASK her.
I glance over at Scarlett, who’s sleeping peacefully and has no idea she’s about to become the subject of Marco family wedding drama.
Brendan
I’ll ask. But no promises.
When we pull into the arena parking lot, Scarlett finally stirs, giving an enormous yawn before sitting up.
“I really needed that sleep.” She stretches her arms over her head. “Did I miss anything important? Because I was completely unconscious the entire trip.”
“Uh, nothing much.” I gather my things, thinking through how I should approach this new twist with the bridesmaid request.
It feels like a much bigger ask than just showing up as my wedding date.
When we reach her car, I take Scarlett’s bag and load it into the trunk.
“Well, that was definitely an experience,” she says, searching for her phone. “Never thought I’d survive a weekend with a sprained ankle and a bus full of hockey players.”
“Did you get a chance to talk with Rafael?”
With my coaching responsibilities, I never even spotted him at the arena, which isn’t unusual. I’m too busy watching the game.
“I couldn’t. He was constantly surrounded by people in expensive suits, but at least he saw me there.”
“That’ll earn you bonus points.” I shove my hands in my pockets, knowing I need to ask her now before I talk myself out of it. “Hey, there’s something I need to run by you.”
She glances up from the driver’s seat. “What’s that?”
“Well, Carmen texted me on the bus. Her maid of honor broke her leg in Switzerland and—”
Scarlett tries to start her car, but the engine grinds, then dies completely.
“That’s weird,” she says, frowning at the dashboard. She tries again, but this time there’s nothing except ominous silence. “This is not good.”
“Want me to drive you home?” I offer.
“You don’t have to do that.” She picks up her phone. “I’ll just call Eli.”
“How quickly can he get here?” I ask, concerned. “I don’t want to leave you in a parking lot with a dead car.”
She worries her lip like the offer makes her uncomfortable. “Well, yeah, but I don’t want you going out of your way for me.”
“Scarlett, it’s not out of my way. And I’d feel considerably better about driving you home than leaving you stranded here.”
“Okay, I guess.” She frowns as I pull her bag back out from the trunk. “But only because you’re being weirdly insistent about this.”
That’s when I realize I’ve never actually been to her place. I know she lives upstairs in a duplex with Eli, but that’s it.
“Uh, Scarlett?” I toss her bag into my SUV, then join her in the front. “This is embarrassing, but I don’t know your address.”
I hand her my phone and she types in her address. “Other than picking me up occasionally, there’s no reason you’d need to come to my place.”
“Why not?”
“Well, Eli’s there, for starters.” She shoots me a look as I pull onto the road toward downtown Sully’s Beach.
I keep my eyes forward, both hands on the wheel. Eli’s name always stops me cold, a reminder of why I’ve kept my distance. And right now, pulling up to her house with his sister in my passenger seat feels like I’m driving into a situation I’ve been trying to avoid.
“And secondly,” she adds. “It’s not exactly what you’d call a desirable living situation.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the guy downstairs is genuinely creepy. I’m pretty sure he’s dealing drugs or running some kind of illegal operation. People drop by at all hours, and sometimes there are shouting matches that wake me up at three in the morning.”
I frown. “Scarlett, you shouldn’t be living there if he’s a drug dealer.”
“I don’t know for certain that he’s involved in criminal activity—it’s just suspicious. Plus, there’s the neighbor lady who plays tuba for the community band and practices all hours of the day and night.”
I grimace. “Not that I have anything against the tuba, but that’s not exactly an instrument you want to fall asleep to.”
“Believe me, the only thing the tuba is good for is the Veggie Tales theme song. And then there’s the pajama thief…”
“Someone’s stealing your stuff?”
“He only steals pajamas, apparently. I made the mistake of line-drying my laundry, and when I came home, all my pajamas were gone.”
“What kind of person steals women’s pajamas?”
“No idea, but I don’t hang laundry outside anymore.
I basically try to get in and out as quickly as possible, unless Eli’s home, which isn’t often these days.
Lauren mentioned that the apartment above the cafe is opening up at the end of the season.
I’d move in yesterday if I could afford it.
” She sounds frustrated and maybe a little lonely.
“How is Eli doing?”
She stares out the window. “Honestly? Not great. He’s lost his part-time job, so he’s basically been working on his old truck while trying to get another one of his business ideas going.”
“He still has Mona-the-Truck?”
He bought that broken-down truck in high school with dreams of restoration that never happened because he was always broke.
“Yep. She runs most of the time, but he’s still tinkering on her. I just wish he’d figure out his life instead of launching these failed business ventures with friends.”
She turns to look directly at me. “Tell me something, Brendan. What really happened between you and Eli?”
My hands tighten around the steering wheel. The inside of my SUV suddenly feels too small. “We had…a disagreement.”
Her brow furrows. “But you guys were inseparable in high school.”
“Yeah, during the summer,” I say quietly, hoping she won’t push this topic. There’s a complicated history between Eli and me, and dating his sister definitely won’t help. “I’m not sure Eli wants to be friends now.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
A few minutes later, we pull up to her address and I get my first look at where Scarlett actually lives. The house is sketchy—sagging porch, peeling paint, and random junk scattered around the yard.