Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
On Sunday morning Casey was the one to put coffee on. She wasn’t surprised Wyatt hadn’t come over to the house early, the way he did most mornings. In the four days since their little talk about him moving to Boston they’d been giving each other some space, keeping interaction to a polite minimum. He had a lot to consider, and she didn’t want to intrude.
She was standing at the counter, staring at the coffeemaker, willing it to go faster, when she heard tires crunching on the snow outside and saw Angie’s minivan pull up to the rear of the house. Casey opened the back door, leaned against it, and watched her climb out of her car. She wore black leggings tucked into furry boots, and her long puffy parka. This had to be serious. Sunday was Angie’s day of the week to sleep in, and only something important would drag her out of her warm bed on a frozen gray morning. She hadn’t so much as run a brush through her bed hair or put on a stitch of makeup. Very un-Angie-like.
She walked to the house and up the porch steps with purpose, arms pumping by her sides. Then she huffed out a sharp exhale. “I told Kyle what happened after he left.”
Casey nodded. “Kind of figured it was you.”
Angie’s jaw dropped. “Did he say something?”
“Come on in.” Casey waved her into the kitchen.
“I told him not to say anything. I didn’t want to upset you, especially after our talk at breakfast that morning. I wanted to give you some time and tell you myself, to explain first.”
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please. Wait. Where’s Star?” Angie asked, looking around the kitchen.
“When I let her out earlier she went over to Kyle’s.”
Angie gasped. “That little bitch,” she said, sliding her coat off.
Casey poured the coffees and brought them to the table.
“I can’t believe he talked to you about it,” Angie said.
“It’s okay.”
“Is it okay? I feel like shit.”
“Don’t feel like shit. He caught me off guard, but it needed to happen.”
“I didn’t know what the hell to do when he showed up asking questions. But he knew something happened, and he was going to find out one way or the other. I thought it would be better coming from me instead of the rumor mill.” She sagged in her chair. “Besides, if I hadn’t told him, I’m pretty sure Todd would have. It never sat well with him, keeping it from Kyle. That’s just his, you know, husband perspective.”
“Maybe Todd was right. The more I think about it now, the more I can’t believe I put you guys in that position. Especially Danny. It wasn’t fair to ask him to do that.” Since her talk with Kyle, Casey had thought of little else other than how self-absorbed she’d been for four years, blind to how she was affecting the people she cared about. It had been a fucking painful few days. “I’m sorry, Ang.”
Her brow furrowed. “You did what you needed to do at the time. Don’t apologize for that.”
“It had to be hard on you, telling Kyle.”
“Not as hard as it was on him. He was very emotional, and I think he blamed himself.” She paused. “Can I ask you something? That day when Wyatt, Danny, and I came to the hospital, you told us that everything that happened between you two was your fault. You were emphatic about it.” She looked down at her mug, wrapped her hands around it. “We all knew better, it’s never just one person’s fault. But what did you mean?”
There it was, another opportunity for Casey to unburden herself. As she looked across at the woman who’d been the best kind of friend for so long the word “friend” didn’t seem to cover it, she knew Angie would forgive her. But once she opened the door to all that shame there’d be no closing it again, and she’d decided long ago it was her cross to bear alone, a fitting punishment for her crime. “I meant just what I said. I made it impossible for him to stay. I understand now how cruel that was. It was cruel to him, and to Danny. Wyatt, Coach, you and Todd. Mateo and the guys who worked for him…” She stopped there, though she could have kept going. She could have mentioned all the customers who’d depended on him, the neighbors whose driveways he plowed all winter when their snowblowers couldn’t get the job done, his hockey buddies who called him for pickup games. “And I see how good it’s been for him to be back here, how good it’s been for everybody.”
Angie listened with wide eyes and barely moved, like she was stunned at what she was hearing, and maybe a little afraid this running faucet of Casey truth would shut off. It was about to, but Casey wanted to get one more thing out. “I don’t think Kyle should leave again.”
Angie drew in a sharp breath. “Have you told him that?”
“No. I can’t. He might take it the wrong way. I’m afraid he’ll want to stay for me.”
“Well, duh. Of course he’ll want to stay for you. But I think what you’re really afraid of is that you want him to stay for you.”
She’d hit the nail on the head, but if Casey admitted Angie was right, she’d have to explain why it could never work. So she changed the subject while they sipped their coffees for a few more minutes. Then she told Angie to go home and enjoy Sunday morning with her family.
Casey felt some relief after being so honest with Angie, though she’d left some things out, including the plan she was working on. That was something she hadn’t mentioned to anyone yet, and she wouldn’t until all the pieces were in place.
Over the last few days an idea had taken hold, one that had flitted across her mind after she and Wyatt had their talk about Boston, when she was drifting to sleep that night. There was a way for Kyle to stay in Potsdam. Casey could see it for him: he could be close to Danny, work with Mateo, be part of the business he’d started long ago. Become a permanent coach, maybe help with the whole athletic program as Coach moved closer to retirement. To Casey that life felt so natural, so right for Kyle.
She just had to do one thing to make it possible for him to stay, and the rest would fall into place.
At school that week she felt the unmistakable buzz that came with being on the cusp of the holiday break, which started the following week. Her goal this time of year was to solidify some of what the kids had learned since September because the rest seemed to evaporate during vacation. But that was next to impossible given the excitement in the air. And the hockey players had an extra distraction since the Holiday Cup was coming up that weekend.
Kyle came to her room for lunch every day that week, as did all members of the team who had that same lunch period. They used some of the time to analyze practice from the day before. Rosie was tracking down intel on the teams that were participating in the Cup, so they went over her findings each day. But then Kyle would change the subject and ask about their families, or their opinions on current events. They liked to ask him questions about his old games, what it was like to make it to the state championship, so he would tell them stories, impress them with his highlights, and make them groan or laugh with his lowlights.
Sometimes he’d pull Casey into the conversation, especially when he needed her to translate. Like on Wednesday when Ben asked him who the GOAT was, Wayne Gretzky, Bobby Orr, or Mario Lemieux. Kyle’s eyes slid her way, and she explained: Greatest of All Time . Kyle told Ben Gretzky was very much the GOAT, and when his eyes touched Casey’s again, she knew he was thinking about the way Charlie used to misquote Gretzky. You have to take a hundred shots, Dad.
But she was happy to sit back for the most part and just watch them, Kyle and the kids, watch what they did for each other. How he demonstrated respect, humility, the ability to laugh at himself. How they soaked up his attention and appreciated him for exactly who he was. And she knew without a doubt, whatever place the boys took in the Holiday Cup, he needed to stay and finish out the season with them, for all their sakes.
Saturday morning she was up early and at the rink by eight o’clock, along with the other volunteer staff and parents, to help prep for the tournament. It started midmorning and would continue at a hectic pace through Sunday afternoon. They had to make sure the timers were working and find enough scorekeepers, water and first aid stations had to be assembled, the concessions stand stocked and fired up. It was a big weekend for Potsdam. Out-of-town teams came in for the Cup, which they were capping off with a dance tomorrow night at the middle school. The dance was something new they were trying this year. It was hard to get through a hockey tournament in this part of the world without at least a few parents drinking too much and starting fights. At least this way the kids would be busy and out of the mix for a few hours.
She was sitting in the stands, making last-minute changes to the rosters on her laptop, when Jake found her. He was carrying a big cardboard box.
“I brought the new uniforms.” He placed the box on the bench, pulled out a jersey, and held it up so she could see. “What do you think?”
“Wow.” It was rich royal blue with orange accents at the shoulders and sleeves. POTSDAM was spelled across the chest in crisp white letters, right above a picture of Sandstoner Steve, with his pickaxe and wicked grin. “It’s beautiful,” she said, taking it from him to get a better look.
“Yeah, they did a good job.”
“The boys are going to be so excited. Thanks again, Jake. I know how expensive they were.”
“That’s okay.” He pointed to his company logo on the back of the jersey. “Good PR.”
Casey nodded and wondered what to say next. She hadn’t seen Jake since the night he showed up at her house with that gift.
“So, how are you?” he asked.
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“Good, I’m good.” He glanced down. “Listen, I wanted to say sorry again, for showing up drunk on your doorstep like a jackass.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, really, it isn’t. I promise you never have to worry about that happening again. I was just…” He shook his head. “Still a mess from the divorce. I don’t really do ‘single’ very well. But that whole night was kind of a wake-up call, and I’m working on it.”
“That’s good, Jake.” She only wished the best for him. He was one of the people she’d thought about during these last few fun-filled days of self-reflection. “You know, I’m sorry too. I don’t really do single well either, and I could have handled it all much better. But you should know that whatever I was going through, you helped me through it for a little while.”
His brows twitched together. “Damn, Casey. Just when I think I’m over you…”
She smiled and reached up to give him a hug.
He hugged her back, then pulled away, looking past her into the distance. “He’s not going to come over here and kick my ass, is he?”
She glanced over her shoulder, across the arena, to where Kyle was supposed to be constructing a registration table. But he was just standing there, staring at them. As soon as her eyes met his he dropped his head and went to work.
“Not at all,” Casey said, turning back to Jake. “He’s fine.”
“Ye-ah, you don’t believe that any more than I do. And for what it’s worth”—he gave her a pointed look—“I don’t think you do single well, because you’re not really single.” He smiled when she offered a resigned shrug, which was the only response she could think of.
They said their goodbyes after that. Before going back to work on the rosters Casey checked on Kyle, only to find him watching her again, and she felt bad. After seeing her and Jake talk and hug, Kyle did indeed appear worried.
But, at the same time, she kind of liked that he was.
Two hours later setup was done. Banners were hung, teams and spectators had started arriving, the Zamboni was prepping the ice. There was a loud hum of activity and energy throughout the arena as Casey made her way to the designated meeting spot for the team.
Will saw her coming and waved. “Thanks for the new uniforms, Ms. McCray. They’re really sweet.”
There was a lot of enthusiastic agreement from the other boys.
“Where’d you get them?” Logan asked.
“They were sponsored by Mr. Renner, the owner of North Country Property Management,” she said, glancing over to catch Kyle’s eye roll.
“We should write him a thank-you note,” Ben said, running his hands over his jersey. “These are Gucci.”
“That means cool,” she told Kyle.
“Yeah, I got that.”
He started running the team through a gear check, and she stood by, ready to go find replacement pads or an extra helmet if necessary. They were in the middle of it when a nearby commotion drew everyone’s attention. Two boys had started to scuffle, rolling on the ground, arms and legs flailing. Even before spotting the Sandstoner jersey and the dark spiky hair she knew one was Logan, and she wasn’t surprised. She’d found out earlier that neither of his parents were coming today.
Kyle’s eyes pinged hers—she’d texted him to be on alert with Logan—before he ran over to pull them apart and send the other boy to his own team. “Are you trying to get yourself kicked out of the tournament?” he asked Logan.
Logan tossed his head and jerked his jersey back into place. “That guy was throwing shade, Coach.”
Kyle looked to Casey.
“He was giving Logan dirty looks,” she said.
He shook his head at Logan, then crossed his arms. “I want you to take a good look at your teammates right now.”
Logan’s brow furrowed but he did as he was told, swept his gaze around the circle.
“These are the people you’re playing for today, no one else,” Kyle said. “And they need you on the ice, not sitting in the penalty box leaving them a man down.”
Logan’s shoulders relaxed and his breathing slowed while he met the eye of each of his teammates.
“Yeah, Logan,” Will said. “We need you.”
Logan lowered his head and nodded. “Okay.”
“Go check your gear,” Kyle told him.
Rosie ran up, waving a piece of paper. “I got the schedule for the day.”
Then Will and Ben stepped forward.
“Coach,” Ben said. “We got a problem.” He flicked his thumb toward Will.
“My puppy got at my stick last night.” Will held up his hockey stick. There were light indentations—bite marks—along the handle.
“It just needs to be re-taped,” Casey said, taking the stick from Will. “I can help with that.”
“No offense, Ms. McCray,” Ben said. “But are you sure? It’s gotta be done right.”
“Hey,” Kyle said, raising his voice. “She knows what she’s doing.” He nodded toward Casey. “She used to wrap my stick all the time.”
Wrap my stick. Casey winced and checked to see if the boys had caught that. How could they not—it was perfectly primed for middle school humor.
The whole team turned to Kyle with wide eyes and shocked grins. Except for Ben, who scrunched up his face in disgust. “TMI, Coach,” he said.
Kyle’s expression morphed into confusion, then understanding. “Hey, I didn’t mean…” His eyes darted to Casey, back to the boys. The whole team was listening now. “That’s not…” He shook his head and tried again. “She just used to…”
Casey held up a hand. “Stop talking.”
“Right.” He swallowed and turned to Rosie. “Let’s see the schedule…”
Casey led Will and Ben to the storage room behind the stands, started going through the supply cabinet. “Go ahead and pull that old tape off, Will.”
He did so then handed over the stick. “Thanks for doing it. I don’t want to mess it up.”
“No problem.” She sat on a crate and laid the stick across her lap.
The boys knelt down to watch her work.
She started wrapping the handle with new tape, moving down diagonally. “You just have to take your time, make sure the spacing is even. No gaps or bumps…”
“Sorry for doubting you, Ms. McCray,” Ben said.
“That’s okay. It was worth it to see Coach’s face get that red.”
The boys laughed with her.
Casey concentrated on the tape. It had been a while since she’d done this, and she wanted to get it right for Will.
“So… you and Coach used to be married, huh?” he asked.
“Yeah, we were.”
“But then you split up?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, we did.” She backtracked with the tape to smooth out a small bubble.
“That’s a shame,” Will said. “Coach seems like a good guy.”
Casey met Will’s deep blue eyes. It wasn’t rational, but sometimes when she spoke to Will she could almost convince herself Charlie could hear her. “They don’t come any better than him,” she said before focusing on her task again. But she could sense the boys exchanging a look.
“Too bad you guys broke up,” Ben said. “I bet you were good together.”
“Yeah, we were.” Casey reached for the scissors and cut the tape, wrapped the end tight around the handle. “We were good together for a long time.” It came out heavier than she’d intended, so she raised her head to offer them a reassuring smile. But the boys’ attention was on the storage room door. When she looked that way Kyle was standing there, and she knew he’d heard everything she said. His arms hung still at his sides, and he was watching her with soft eyes and a mixed expression. A little grateful, a little confused, a lot sad.
The boys saw it too and rose to their feet quietly, like they were afraid of disturbing something.
“Here you go, Will.” Casey stood and handed him the hockey stick.
“Thanks,” he said, backing away with Ben. “It looks great.”
“Good luck today, guys,” she said.
After they took off she gathered the tape and scissors, put them back in the supply closet, feeling Kyle’s gaze on her the whole time. When she was done she turned to him, and she could sense the questions he wanted to ask that really all boiled down to one. What happened to us?
Of all the people Casey owed an apology to, Kyle was top of the list. But standing in the storage room at this particular moment wasn’t the time to do that. Though he was most deserving, he would have to wait for his apology because it would be the hardest one to give.
She checked her watch. “Ten minutes till game time, Coach.” Then she walked past him and out of the storage room before he could ask any of his questions.