Chapter 31 Leland
LELAND
No one says anything for several long moments. I’ve got thoughts… But I don’t know if I should say anything in front of Darby. I don’t want to be perceived as being disloyal to my friend, and he’d hate having his dirty laundry exposed to an outsider.
“It’s a long story,” Henrik says. “Ren and I were still playing for the Blizzard so we missed a lot of the drama, but Leland was there.”
He gives me a nudging nod. I still hesitate for a few more seconds, organizing my thoughts. Trying to decide how much to say—in a way that will still convey the depths of grief and anger haunting Doyle.
“We’re all friends from way back, but over the years, I’ve gotten closer to Doyle, while Henrik and Ren got closer.
They played on the same professional team.
They had experiences neither Doyle nor I could fully understand.
We cared, obviously. We’ve always stayed in touch and got together as often as we could, but I’d say around twenty-five or so, we all drifted apart.
We had separate lives. We didn’t see each other as often as we used to.
We weren’t making annual treks home to Minnesota, but I’d catch the games in Chicago, and Doyle was able to see some of their games in Denver.
Sometimes I flew out and went to games with him, but those were rare past thirty. We were just too busy with work, and…”
I sighed. There was no way I could tell this part of our history without digging out my own dirty laundry.
“Things were tough at home,” I finally said softly.
“For both of us. We were both married. Doyle was working crazy hours through residency, so it was tough for him to ever get away. I was working around the clock too. Our wives weren’t happy, but we were too blind to notice.
But Doyle had a kid involved. That made it even harder.
Especially when his wife was diagnosed with cancer.
“Come to find out, she’d been sick for a while and never told anyone.
By the time she was diagnosed, it was too late to do much but make her comfortable.
Fresh out of residency, Doyle went from an up-and-coming surgeon with his choice of hospitals to a widower and single parent of a young, angry daughter. ”
I paused to moisten my mouth with a few sips of beer, hoping someone else might pick up part of the story.
“We rallied around him,” Henrik said. “It was off-season, so Ren and I were both able to be at the funeral and help out for the first few weeks. Doyle had to keep working. Alyssa wasn’t a baby—she was eleven, I think, but he had no idea how to be a single parent.
They moved back to Minnesota to be close to the grandparents, and we went back to our lives. ”
Ren held his hand out in front of him, palm up, fingers spread.
“Time has a way of slipping through your fingers. Years passed in the blink of an eye. We missed Christmases and birthdays with our niece. Granted, not by blood, but we all considered ourselves her uncles, and that’s what she still calls us.
Then another. With hockey season in full swing, and our team doing so well, we never had time off through the holidays.
They came to watch a few games, and we hung out afterward, but it wasn’t the same as having quality time away from work and team demands. ”
“As Alyssa got older, it was even harder,” Henrik said.
“She resented him for being gone so much when she was younger. She blamed him for her mother’s death.
He was a doctor, and he failed to save her mother.
She never let him forget it. When I finally left the team and came out here, I invited everyone to come whenever they wanted.
During their first visit, she was still so very angry.
Not just at him but the world in general.
He was at wits end trying to help her. Therapists, psychologists, grief and family counseling. Everything.
“A couple of more years passed, and shit got pretty dark. That’s their story to tell, but it damned near killed them both.
Doyle finally walked away from his career entirely, and they moved out here for a new start.
He dedicated the next two years to building their dream place.
I think things have been much better for them both, but he’s still touchy about anything that might affect their peace. ”
“Doing a few practice shows with me was one thing,” Ren says with a wry twist to his lips.
“But as more people respond to our music, it makes him twitchy. The more popular we get, the harder it is to balance the demands of performing, growing our audience, and making music we care about against his personal life. It’s easier for us.
We don’t have kids. Our families are right here in Mooseville. ”
I clear my throat a little, drawing Darby’s gaze back to me. I’m not surprised to see tears shimmering in her eyes. She’s got a tender heart of gold for sure. “It’s been tough on Doyle for his daughter to go off to college. It’s a huge step for them both.”
“The negotiation process of where she was even going to college was exhausting,” Ren said. “She was accepted to Southern Cal, but Doyle didn’t want her that far away without support. He nearly bought a house in Los Angeles, but then she decided to go to Colorado Springs instead.”
“If he goes down to pick her up for a few days, he’ll be impossible.” I shake my head. “‘I told you so,’ nonstop. Poor kid.”
“I have no aspirations to be a parent but that sounds like a recipe for disaster to me,” Darby says.
A knot loosens in my belly that I wasn’t even aware of.
Dread that she might want kids—and how I’d feel about that.
Henrik would be a great father, but Ren and I were fucked over in that department.
The last thing I want to do is fuck up a kid because of my own experiences.
Know better, do better, yeah, but still.
I didn’t think any amount of counseling in the world could help me be a parent.
Ren snorts. “I dare you to tell that to Doyle.”
She flips him off, making me splutter my beer with laughter. “It’s official. You’re one of us now. There’s no going back.”
I meant it as a light, funny joke—but her solemn gaze lands on mine and everything in me stills. Curse my own stupidity, I said too much. Pushed too hard. Henrik’s going to murder me. Maybe Ren can get it on a live feed for the next Ice show…
Then she grins, and my heart begins to beat again. “Don’t tempt me, Leland. Someone would have to change the sign.”
“Me!” Ren crows, already jumping up like he’s going to do it this very minute.
“Sit your ass down,” Henrik growls. “Give her time to get to know you clowns first. Though at this rate you’re all going to scare her off.”
Are we? Somehow I don’t think so. Not the way she looks at Ren. Then me. Her gaze is curious, speculative, and wondering.
Not closed. Not off limits.
Well, fuck. This could get interesting.