Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mollie
My week has been a masterclass in things I never wanted to experience.
First, a two-hour meeting with Juliet and the Havoc's HR department about my relationship with Alex.
Juliet was kind about it, but the HR woman kept using phrases like conflict of interest and organizational optics.
In turn, I kept thinking about how I'd rather be literally anywhere else on the planet.
Then my parents called.
They saw the TikTok. My mom cried for forty-five minutes on FaceTime while my dad sat behind her with an expression that I can only describe as like a man watching his house burn down from across the street. They want to come up, talk, and see me in person.
I take back what I said about the work meeting. It was way preferable to this.
My mom is texting, still upset, and using a lot of all caps. I don’t really want to bring her here, into Alex’s house, but… there’s no place I want to go in public. And we can’t do it at Beck’s house because he’ll refuse to let Alex come.
Rock, meet hard place.
"Alex?" I call upstairs.
He appears at the top of the stairs in sweatpants and nothing else, his dark hair sticking up on one side. He looks edible. "Yeah?"
"Is it okay if my family comes over today? My parents want to talk about the Savard stuff. I'd rather do it here than at a restaurant where my mom will ugly cry in front of strangers."
He gives me a look like I just asked him if water is wet. "Freckles, it's your house too. It has been since the day you piled your Converse by the door."
“Really? Even if Beck comes?”
“Yeah, baby. I know who your family is. I get what I’m signing up for. It’s you that is getting the rough end of the bargain where in-laws are concerned. I mean… my parents are both pretty intense.”
“They’re fine.” Something in my chest loosens. I bite my lip and smile up at him. "Thank you for being so understanding."
"Of course, Freckles." He looks me up and down. “If you want a good distraction before they come over, I can probably cook something up.”
“You’re always so helpful,” I say, a little tartly. Gordie trots over and shoves his enormous head against my thigh, sensing that feelings are happening and wanting to make sure he's included. I scratch behind his ears and text my mom the address.
My parents arrive at noon. My dad is wearing his best polo and khakis, which tells me he spent actual time deciding what to wear to his daughter's boyfriend's house. My mom's eyes are already red, which tells me she cried in the car on the way over.
They look around the houseboat, wide-eyed.
Perhaps they’ve never been inside a house that costs more than their entire block; I know I sure hadn’t that first time I came here.
My mom touches the kitchen counter like it might be a hologram.
My dad peers out the back windows at the lake and whistles low.
"This is a nice setup, baby girl," Dad says, turning back to me. "Real nice."
“It’s all Alex’s doing. I can’t claim any credit.”
Alex comes down the stairs, fully dressed now in jeans and a dark gray T-shirt.
He's shaved, and his hair is actually combed.
His expression is pinched, and I realize with a pang that he's nervous.
Alexander Thorne, the golden boy of the Seattle Havoc, is nervous about meeting my parents again… as my boyfriend.
"Mom, Dad. You know Alex." I take his hand and pull him forward. “We’ve… uh… moved in together. He’s my boyfriend.”
My dad stares at Alex for a solid three seconds.
He knows who Alex is, obviously. Beck's co-captain.
The face of the franchise. The guy whose posters my dad has hanging in his man cave back home.
But the fact that this particular hockey player is dating his daughter, and she's living in his very expensive floating home, seems to short-circuit something in his brain.
"Well, I'll be damned." Dad extends his hand and Alex shakes it. "You know, I always told Kathy that our Mollie was going to end up with someone special. I just didn't think it would be someone whose jersey I already own."
"Dad." I close my eyes. “Please.”
"Does this mean I can call you son-in-law?"
My jaw drops and I gasp. "We're not engaged, Dad. Omigod, don't make this weird."
"Too late," Alex murmurs beside me, his lips twitching.
My dad leans in toward Alex with conspiratorial energy. "You know, if you ever want to ask for my blessing, you can just call me. Any time." He fishes his phone out of his pocket. "Here, let me give you my number. Just in case."
Alex takes the phone and types in his number without blinking. "Got it, Dan."
"See? We're already on a first-name basis." Dad beams at my mom. "Kathy, did you hear that? He called me Dan."
My mom is too busy hugging me to respond. She holds on for a long time, longer than usual, her hands gripping the back of my shirt. When she pulls back, her chin is wobbling.
"My baby," she says. "My sweet girl."
"I'm fine, Mom. Really."
She cups my face in her hands and studies me like she's looking for damage. Whatever she sees must satisfy her, because she nods once and lets go, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
The front door opens again and Beck walks in with Rosie on his hip. She's wearing a tutu over her jeans and carrying a sticker book that's approximately the size of her torso.
"Mollie!" Rosie squirms until Beck sets her down, then barrels toward me at full speed. I catch her and scoop her up, kissing her cheeks until she giggles.
"Hey, monkey. I love the tutu."
"I’m so pretty!" She settles on my lap when I sit down on the couch, immediately cracking open her sticker book. "Look, I gots the sparkly ones."
"Those are very sparkly." I help her peel a glittery unicorn off the sheet while Beck shakes Alex's hand with a tight-jawed politeness. Yeesh, I wouldn’t want to be either of them.
My dad claps Beck on the shoulder and my mom hugs him. Gordie weaves through the legs of strangers with his tail wagging, accepting pets from anyone who will give them. Rosie calls to him and he happily flops over, showing his belly.
She's absorbed in showing Gordie her stickers and isn’t listening to the conversation, which is exactly what I need right now. Her small, warm weight grounds me in a way that nothing else could.
"I want to tell you what happened with Coach Savard," I say. "The real version, not the TikTok version."
My mom reaches for my dad's hand. He takes it and squeezes.
I tell them. Not every detail, because Rosie is here, but enough.
How Savard made me feel special when I was sixteen.
How the attention shifted over time, so gradually that I couldn't see it happening.
The comments about my body. The way he isolated me from everyone else until he was the only voice I trusted.
I tell them about the fight before Nationals.
I use euphemistic language since Rosie is still here, telling them about how I tried to push back and he called me ungrateful.
And the last thing I say is that I went out on the ice twenty minutes later and missed the jump.
I don't tell them the specific physical details.
My mom still ugly cries. She wipes away her tears with a tissue she pulls from her purse, her other hand still gripping my dad's. She doesn't interrupt me. For once in her life, my mom just listens.
My dad doesn't say anything for a long time after I finish. He stares at a spot on the coffee table and I can see the muscles in his jaw working. He's not angry in the loud way that Beck was. He's angry in the way that dads get when they realize they failed to protect their kid.
He realizes, maybe, that there's no way to go back and fix it.
The silence stretches until it's almost unbearable. Rosie peels another sticker and places it carefully on my forearm. A sparkly purple butterfly, right on my wrist.
"Pretty," she announces.
"Very pretty," I tell her.
“Mollie. I’m… I’m so sorry. We both are. I’m just devastated,” my mom says, sniffling.
I look at my parents and offer what I can.
"You raised me to say no. Whatever else happened, I had enough backbone to push back when it mattered.
He tried to take it further, and I stopped him.
" I swallow. "I didn't have the words for what was happening at the time.
I didn't know how to tell you. But the reason it didn't go further is because you raised a girl who knew that something was wrong, even when the person doing it was someone she trusted. "
My mom's face crumples. My dad blinks hard and clears his throat.
What I offer them isn’t forgiveness. They should have been paying closer attention and we all know it. But it's the past.
All we can do now is try to navigate around it and do better in the future.
Alex's arm drapes across my shoulders. His hand finds the back of my neck and his thumb traces a slow circle against my skin, steady and warm.
He doesn't say anything. He's been quiet through the whole conversation, letting me lead, letting my family process it at their own speed.
But his body beside mine says everything I need him to say.
After a few minutes, he leans forward and looks at Beck. "So… are you going to be cool about me dating your sister, or not?"
The directness of it catches everyone off guard. My mom blinks. My dad's eyebrows shoot up. Beck, who has been sitting in the armchair with his arms crossed and his jaw set for the entire conversation, drops his head and stares at his hands.
Beck frowns. "I can't just flip a switch and be fine with it, Thorne. You lied to me. For months."
"I did,” Alex says. “And I’m sorry about that. I really am.”
I release a sigh. “Alex wanted to tell you right away. The reason he didn’t was because I asked him not to. I was selfish and wanted to enjoy ourselves a little first.” I bite my lip. “I’m still not sorry about it.”