Chapter Eight Make Amends
Chapter Eight
Make Amends
Hayes
My cousin Hart texted that he had a suite for tonight’s Rangers game and invited me along. I don’t follow hockey, but I do enjoy it. And since Hart and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, him inviting me feels like an olive branch being extended.
“How do you feel about going to a hockey game tonight?” I ask Maddie, who’s making me another of those friendship bracelets. I already have sixteen of the things, so I have no idea what propelled me to buy her even more supplies.
She scrunches up her nose. “I’ve never been to a hockey game. Will I like it?”
I shrug. “They have cotton candy, so I’m going to go with . . . yes, you’ll like it.”
The kid’s a complete sugarholic.
“Okay. I’m in. Do I have time to finish this bracelet first?”
I nod. “Take your time. We’ll leave in an hour.”
Getting out of my own head might be a good thing. A fast-paced and violent sport like hockey should do the trick.
I’m unsure if it’s my approaching thirtieth birthday or what, but I’ve been all kinds of in my head lately. And it might seem like I’ve lived a charmed life, but I’ve weathered many storms.
My parents’ separation when I was nine.
Dad’s rehab stint when I was twelve.
Mom’s shoplifting scandal the year after.
Dad’s relapse and rehab take two when I was fifteen.
Mom getting hooked on prescription pills.
Dad’s affair and the birth of his so-called love child.
The media finding out about said love child and Mom threatening to divorce him.
Another trial separation that my parents announced on my twentieth birthday. Those are just a few of the highlights. It’s been one thing after the next.
Now I’ve almost come to expect a disaster around every corner, and I’m finding it harder than ever to just enjoy the good times. I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Maybe that’s why I’ve been so on edge about my uncle Charles and his new travel companion. I assume the worst is going to happen, and I’m constantly bracing for the fallout.
It must be some defense technique where I don’t allow myself to be happy. I wouldn’t even know the emotion if it slapped me upside the head.
Maddie decides to change into a purple sweater and glittery jeans for the hockey game.
I pull a seldom-worn Rangers hoodie from the back of my closet, and we set out.
Hart texted me a parking pass for the underground garage at Madison Square Garden, so it’s easy to get there in time for the puck drop.
Hart and his wife, Alessia, are here when we arrive, but so are a few of his longtime friends. I recognize Monty, a genius computer programmer, and go over to say hello.
I also help myself to a beer.
“Go easy on that neon-yellow cheese, yeah?” I say to Maddie, who’s fixing herself a giant plate of nachos from the taco bar in the suite—complete with that liquid yellow goo they have to call cheez because it’s certainly not cheese.
Hart approaches. He’s wearing a Trocheck jersey and a big smile. “You made it.”
“Yeah, thanks for the invite.” We shake hands.
My relationship with my cousin has evolved a lot over the years.
Mostly because he’s grown up a lot—it forced me to take stock of my own life and where it was headed.
In the last few years, my cousin went from an aimless affluent heir the tabloids liked to paint as a playboy to a family man with two small kids.
I dare a glance over at his wife. She’s sitting alone with a glass of red wine, watching as the Zamboni makes slow, but steady, passes across the ice.
I’d treated her poorly when she and Hart first started dating.
There’s no denying it. I figured they’d never last—she was at least a decade older than him, so I figured I’d speed the inevitable breakup along by pointing out how disastrous an idea they were.
Maybe it was my own insecurities bubbling to the surface.
Hell, maybe I’m just used to family drama and needed to invent a reason to cause some of my own.
Regardless of the reason, it’s obvious I was very wrong about them together.
Hart has never looked happier. He’s showing Monty photos on his phone of a humanitarian project they just completed in Namibia.
They’ve been married, quite happily, for three years now and have two kids under the age of two. I attended their wedding and saw them at various holiday gatherings, but I never actually said those two little words to her that I should have.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I see Frankie. Not saying anything in particular—just being who she is. Blunt. Brave. Unafraid to speak her mind, even when it terrifies her.
I’d never admit it, but maybe she’s rubbing off on me.
I excuse myself and wander over to where Alessia is sitting alone. I take a breath and lower myself into the seat beside her.
“I have something I need to say.”
Her eyes dart around me, like she’s plotting her escape. I really can’t blame her. I cornered her once before like this and tried to convince her to break things off with Hart.
“I was an absolute and total dick to you. And I know this apology is a little late, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Truly. I’m man enough to say I was wrong about you and Hart.”
Alessia looks taken aback, almost stunned by my words. Her lips, which are painted a pretty shade of red, turn down. “I’m not sure what to say, other than yes, you were a total dick to me.”
My chest tightens. “I’m sorry. And I sincerely hope you can forgive me, but I’ll also understand if you can’t.”
“I forgave you a long time ago. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t have served me, and you’re Hart’s cousin.”
“Wow. Well, thank you.” I’m not sure I deserve her kindness, but I’m grateful for it all the same.
“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” she says with a smile that is most likely fake.
“Obviously,” I say. After the way I behaved, I can’t expect we’ll suddenly be best friends. “Well, enjoy the game.”
“Will do.” And with that, she stands and heads over to Hart, who’s wearing a curious expression, no doubt wondering what we were discussing.
I down the rest of my beer and glance over at Maddie, who’s helping herself to a second plate of nachos. Since I don’t want her puking in my Land Rover on the way home, I decide to go over and intercept.
I might have matured a little tonight, but let’s not get carried away.