Howie
Gianna meets us at the door with a wooden spoon and a grin. "I hear there's a new nurse in the ‘burgh.”
Ella blushes and nods, and Gianna pulls her in for a hug.
"McKenzie's been here for twenty minutes telling everyone how awesome you are.” Gianna ushers us into the back room. "I made something special. Sit."
The meatball joint is full. McKenzie spots Ella and screams — a full, fangirl whoop that makes Spinner flinch, and Mayhem raise an eyebrow — and launches herself across the room to grab Ella in a hug that lifts her off the ground.
Aarthi is right behind, calmer but bright-eyed, squeezing Ella's arm and saying something I can't hear over McKenzie's continued shrieking.
The PAWs are out in force, even if a lot of my teammates aren’t here. I like thinking of Ella getting close to my friends’ partners and wives. I like the thought of her close, period.
Cam and Essence are at the big table with Banksy. Emerson Stag waves from beside Spinner, who appears to be explaining the rules of hockey to Aarthi using saltshakers. Mayhem occupies his usual corner, quietly watching the room fill.
Ella stands in the middle of it, and I watch her face cycle through surprise, overwhelm, and then pure joy. These people are here for her. For Ella Rujkowski, RN.
Gianna emerges from the kitchen carrying a platter of red, steaming balls. “Mercy Balls," she announces, setting them down at the center of the table. "Meatballs in a Bloody Mary reduction with horseradish and celery salt. In honor of our girl and her new gig.”
"That's disgusting," Spinner says, reaching for one. I notice that he winks at Gianna, and she actually blushes.
"It's genius," Aarthi corrects, already eating. Her eyes close.
Ella beams, one hand on her chest like she’s trying to contain her heart from swelling out of her body. She pops a meatball in her mouth and moans. “Oh my god, Gianna."
I adjust my pants, reminding myself that we are here for my girl, and try one of the meatballs.
Gianna pats Ella’s shoulder. "Eat. You're too skinny."
“Okay, boomer,” Ella laughs at the restaurant owner who is the same age as me and Rookie.
"You're perfect,” Gianna says, wiping her hands on her apron. “Please come often."
Spinner, incapable of passing on a joke, speaks with his mouth full. “That’s what she said.” He punches my shoulder just as Rookie pokes his head in the door and silently grabs a table. Ella hasn’t seen him yet, so I focus on her as the room settles into the white noise of a raucous celebration.
Overlapping conversations, laughter, and the clink of glasses punctuate the party while McKenzie and Aarthi continue telling everyone how awesome Ella is at her job.
Ella tries to downplay it, and Essence shuts that down with a pointed "girl, take the compliment."
Ella is animated, hands moving, laughing, and I lean against the wall and watch her be a person people want to know. Not because of her last name. Because of her.
Spinner drops onto the bench beside me. "Nice shiner."
"Thanks."
"Rookie, do that?"
"Yep."
"You hit him back?"
"Nope."
Spinner nods slowly, processing this. "That was probably the right call."
"Probably."
He bumps my shoulder. "She's good for you, man. You're different."
"Different how?"
"You're … calmer.” He gestures at the room. "You planned this. You got everyone together. That's always been your thing. But this time it's not about the party. It's about her." He takes a sip of his beer. "That's different."
I don't know what to say to that, so I just nod. Spinner claps my back and heads off to refill his drink.
Mayhem materializes beside me. He stands next to me against the wall and surveys the room. "You good?" he asks.
"Getting there."
He nods. Sips. Gestures his head toward Rookie, who is quietly eating, biding his time. That's the whole conversation. It's enough.
The door to the back room opens, and Grentley walks in.
This alone is unusual. Although I guess he’s been coming out a little bit now that he finished anger management therapy or whatever went on with him and the Stag twins.
But tonight, Grentley walks in and scans the room until he finds Ella.
He crosses directly to her, bypassing Spinner, ignoring Banksy's greeting, sidestepping McKenzie like she's a traffic cone.
He stops in front of Ella, who looks up at him with the mild alarm at approached by a six-foot-two block of ice.
“Hi,” she says. "Do you want a Mercy Ball?"
He shakes his head. “I heard you passed your nursing exam."
"I did."
He's quiet for a beat. “Thank you for doing that.” The table around them goes still because Grentley voluntarily speaking to someone is an event.
Then he says, "When I was seven, I broke my collarbone.
The…adults…in charge of me didn't take me to the hospital for two days.
When they finally brought me in, it was an ER nurse who figured out what was going on.
She's the one who called protective services.
She sat with me the whole time and told me I was brave. "
The room is dead silent.
"I don't remember her name," Grentley continues, like he’s casually discussing a hockey game. "But she changed my life. You're going to matter to people like that, Ella. Congratulations."
He turns, walks to the counter, picks up a tray Gianna has already prepared for him, and takes it to the corner without another word.
I stare at him. I've played with Josh Grentley for years.
I've seen him block shots with his face, stare down charging forwards, shut out entire offenses without flinching.
I have never once heard him volunteer personal information.
Not in the locker room, not on road trips, not after wins or losses or anything in between.
He didn’t even talk to us about his divorce. And now he just bared his soul in front of the team and the PAWs.
Ella's eyes are bright. She blinks, swallows, and pops another meatball in her mouth.
I’m about to sit down with her and finally relax when Rookie crosses the room to stand behind Ella. His eyes are red. His hair is worse than usual. Which makes sense since he’s been driving around all day, probably confronting the possibility that he drove his sister away.
Ella turns from the table and looks up at her brother. For once, he doesn’t call her names or say something dumb. He squats down and wraps his arms around her, clinging like tape on the blade of a hockey stick.
Ella's hands come up to his back. She grips his hoodie, and I see her knuckles go white.
"I'm proud of you," Rookie says. His voice is thick and muffled against her hair. "I'm so proud of you, Ell."
She nods against his chest. Doesn't speak. Doesn't need to.
He holds her for a long time. Nobody cracks a joke.
Nobody fills the silence. Even Spinner keeps his mouth shut, which might be the most remarkable event of the year.
The whole thing, Grentley spewing his soul…
Rookie feeling a feeling…it all has me thinking about my shitty dad and his own awful treatment of me.
All the people in my life are here doing brave things, being vulnerable with their feelings and holding each other up.
Makes me want to only let in people who do the same to me.
When Rookie releases his sister, he turns and finds me against the wall. We look at each other, and I can see the calculations, the anger still there, but banked, covered by something more urgent. Gratitude, maybe. Or just the recognition that I found his sister when he couldn't.
He crosses to me and puts a hand on my back. Pats once. Firm. The way you'd tap a teammate's helmet after a good shift.
It's not forgiveness. But it's a start.
"Nice shiner," he says.
"You should see the other guy.”
His mouth twitches. Almost a smile. Not quite. He drops his hand and walks to the table, where Gianna is already setting a plate in front of the empty seat she kept for him.
I lean against the wall and watch the Rujkowski siblings eat meatballs across from each other, and I know they’re going to be okay. I soak it all in and think about what I can change, too. Other than being more open with the woman I love.
Ella’s hand reaches for the empty place beside her on the bench and glances up at me.
My body and all my instincts scream at me to join her, to sit beside her, drape an arm over her shoulder.
But I don’t want to take away from her celebration here by stirring up more shit with her brother before we’ve had a chance to talk things out.
I hesitate while she continues to glance over at me, at the space beside her. And finally, Rookie groans and stares at the ceiling. “Just fucking sit with my sister, Howie.”