29. August
29
“ Y ou know it gets tiring looking at you sometimes,” I said after Harper left.
“I know what you mean,” Troy set his phone on the side table and rested his arms in front of him.
I sat on the chair beside his bed, looking at the bandages embracing most of his limbs and ribcage. “I talked to Ryan. Said that hit wasn’t you. It could have happened to any one of them.”
My brother nodded. “Yeah, but I was heading for minors with or without the hit.”
“I’m sorry it took me this long to come. I’ve…”
“You’re busy, I know. It’s all good. I’ve got plenty of hot nurses coming through that door than I can count. I’m not bored, trust me.” He laughed and I chuckled too, loving how relieved and calm he finally looked.
It was a breath of fresh air.
“I think both our jobs have been killing us slowly.”
Troy’s eyes finally met mine head-on. “I might be the one injured here, but yours has taken years out of your life.”
I couldn’t argue that. It sure felt like that most days.
“You know how to play, Troy. I watched all your games last year. You just need patience.”
“My mind doesn’t work like yours, August. This game. I don’t know how you do it, but you’re amazing.” He shook his head like it disappointed him. “And I took it away from you.”
“No one has the power to take anything from me unless I give it away.”
“Okay, Shakespeare.” My twin rolled his eyes.
I leaned in. “I don’t want you to think that you took away any kind of dream of mine. I didn’t plan on going pro like you did. That scene is not me. I know numbers, I know finance, I know how to run a team of analysts and make other people’s money multiply.”
Troy nodded, seeming satisfied with my reassurance.
What I wasn’t going to say out loud was that it had also made me something I never thought I’d become.
Cold, angry, impatient, bitter…
Hurtful.
I hurt Harper, even after I thought she might have had real feelings for me—not my brother—I threw her out of my office like she was a lost intern.
I ran a rough hand across my face and stood. “Better get well for Thanksgiving. I can’t take those two alone for four days.”
He chuckled. “I don’t think mom is giving me much of a choice, she’s ready to have this bed transferred over to the downstairs guestroom.”
We laughed because it was just like Grace Hartman to do that.
“I’m sorry about Harper, August. The things I said…they were aimed at you—had nothing to do with her.” He glanced at the door. "Why didn't you go after her?"
I licked my lips. "I get it now, Troy. Why you didn't go after her all those years ago. There's no fixing what I did."
He watched me. Waiting for more details. I bought time, pulling up my Instagram feed and liking the photo of the two of them.
“You were right about one thing. She’s not an idiot.”
“She knew?”
I nodded.
He scoffed. “Figures. There’s no way she’d ever look at me the way she looks at you.”
A sinking sensation settled into my gut. “Any idea where she’s going?”
Troy shook his head, not surprised by my curiosity. “I know that this visit was impromptu on her way to the airport. But no, she didn’t say.”
There was a painful throbbing in my chest the second Harper walked out of the hospital room. Or maybe it started seconds before she did. When her golden hair flipped and brown eyes turned to wash over us with a final smile that was so genuine, it screamed goodbye.
Refusing to believe it, I whipped out my phone and texted her. Seeing the last few messages between us all from her—with no response from me, made me pulsate with regret …maybe even fear…that I’d royally screwed up.
Two days later I helped my brother check out of the hospital.
“Where are we going?” he asked when I hit the highway going in the other direction.
“I’m taking you to Staten Island. You’re staying with Mom and Dad during your recovery.”
He groaned. “I can take care of myself August, take me back to Brooklyn.”
“Neither of us have a choice here. It’s only for a few weeks, then you’ll come back to the city for your physical therapy. You’ll be back on the ice before you know it,” I assured.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“It’s noon on a Monday, you’re not behind your desk, working your life away…I don’t think you’ve ever taken a day off.”
I shrugged. “I’ll head over later. I transferred most of my accounts to my colleague Jason. He’ll do just fine. He’s turning gray at twenty-six, but he’ll do fine,” I laughed, feeling slightly relieved and empty at the same time.
Troy eyed me suspiciously. “He just took on your work? What does he get out of it?”
I grinned, knowing I got the better half of our deal. “I gave him my bigger office.”
There was silence between us for a short distance and then he finally said it. “Ryan told me they’ve offered you a spot next season.”
I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the road. “It doesn’t work that way. There are draft rules and regulations—”
“So you’ve considered it.”
I glanced at him. “It’s not possible.”
“You won four games in a row and barely broke a sweat. Trust me, our GM can make it possible.”
I ignored him, not ready to approach the topic of leaving a job I’d been married to since I graduated just to toss around a puck and be slammed into from every angle for the next ten years.
Even if the thought was invigorating to say the least. Not just about playing hockey.
About quitting my job.
Dad helped carry Troy to the living room sofa, the entire time raging against the other team for his injuries. “Penalty box…you kidding me with that…we should be pressing charges.”
“Dad, back off. I’m fine,” Troy groaned as he settled into the corner.
“You need anything, just ask your mother. By the way, did you see this?” He handed me and Troy the paper. “Look who made front page. And in a good way…”
I looked at a familiar sketch of number nineteen and the distant crowd surrounding him. Their signs held high, their cheers practically coming to life through the page. The audience was in black and white, but the back of the player himself, centered and enlarged, was shaded in the blue and white uniform colors.
The fan signs all read words of encouragement for his recovery and return.
We’ll Miss You #19
Come Back Strong
We Believe In You
We’ll Be Here When You Get Back
My eyes instantly darted to the signature on the bottom left to confirm what I already knew; Harper Maxwell.
I stepped out to the backyard and peeked at the guest house, remembering our night together. Smiling for the first time in weeks when I realized she had known it was me all along, came looking for me, finding me in the shower.
That sinking feeling returned.
It was all real. It was all for me.
Me: Saw the front page of Sports Time.. . It’s phenomenal, Harper.
That was stupid. So were the other three or four messages I’d sent her in the last few days since I left Troy’s hospital room on Saturday.
Me: Can we please talk when you’re back?
“I’ll take a large Touchdown, please.” I stood in front of the bar at the Lineup Cafe, watching Harper’s friend Nicole work the counter solo.
She flipped her head back, finding me. There was a pause before she answered. “Be with you in a minute.” She finished what looked like a premix of iced tea and set it in the refrigerator. Then started a double shot of espresso for my drink, I assumed.
Avoiding eye contact, she moved to the register. “Anything else?”
“Yes. You can tell me where Harper is.”
Her brows jumped. “Oh can I?”
I grinned. “It would be most helpful.”
She blinked, clearly uncharmed.
“Look I know I screwed up, and I’ve tried calling, but—”
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Yes I know, I’ve been getting your messages.” She pulled out what looked like Harper’s phone from under the counter, waving it at me. “Had to finally shut the thing off.”
“You have her phone?”
She turned to pour the steamed milk into my drink. “Yep, left it in my car when I tried taking her to the airport but she just haaaad to make a pit stop at the hospital.”
I tried to see anything but blurred objects around me. “So, there’s no way of reaching her?”
“Not for you, there isn’t.” She slammed my drink on the bar.
“You were a lot nicer to me when we first met,” I wiggled a finger at her and smirked, desperate to charm her in any way I could.
“I give everyone the benefit of the doubt until they prove me wrong,” she deadpanned.
My head dropped with a nod, annoyed but grateful for someone looking out for Harper when I failed to. I knocked on the bar twice, but not quite ready to leave.
Larry, the security guard, approached us. The man had already made a few hundred from me by letting me sneak in here without an appointment.
“Hey Nic, you ready?”
She smiled at him and removed her apron. “Let me just tell Frankie I’m heading out early, and I’ll be right out.”
Nicole disappeared through an office door behind the bar, and Larry fist-bumped me. “Been trying to go out with this girl all week. Hard since she’s the only one here now.”
“Harper will be back soon, right?”
Larry frowned. “Not unless she’s coming for a visit. She quit last week.”
I was afraid of that. I knew it was probably in her best interest. But now she had zero ties to the city, and I had no way of finding her.
When Larry turned to walk back to his post, I reached over the counter to see if I could grab Harper's phone to get a clue as to where she was.
Regardless of my height, I couldn’t see or feel it. All I found was a postcard of some sort. I was about to toss it aside when the heading over an eye-catching photo of a beach resort caught my eye.
Revitalize and Sink Back into You.
A retreat about listening to what your heart and soul truly crave and then giving yourself the opportunity to explore it…
I snapped a photo of the card and slipped it back in place, taking my abnormally bitter coffee with me.