32. “Disarm”
Chapter 32
“Disarm”
Taz - Age 24, 1994
L unch went well. Not the part where I had to admit how I messed up, but Sascha is used to me screwing up. She’s had a front-row seat since I was a teenager. I appreciated her reaction, reminding me she cares more than she’s willing to admit. She’s always been protective when it comes to my family. When I wrapped her in my arms to calm her down, she melted into me, reminding me how well we fit together when she stops fighting.
As for Brian, she’s never been a fan, having witnessed firsthand the ups and downs of our relationship. She’s seen what I’ve gone through with him even more than my best friend, Delzy, has.
In that regard, she might be the only person in the world who truly knows me better than anyone else. Knowing that someone who spends most of their time being annoyed with me is also the person who knows me inside out is both comforting and discouraging. She spends too much time wishing we didn’t have the connection we do, but she can’t deny it. It’s there in her eyes; I feel it in every touch.
She doesn’t realize how much her presence means to me. I got a taste and now I crave it like a lifeline. Ever since the wedding, she’s consumed my every thought. Sure, there have been other women in the past, but none come close to her.
Sascha is like a bright meteor. She burst into my life and forever changed its course. Her impact is indelible, leaving an imprint that can never be erased. My heart longs to spend more time with her, but I’m the one who has put her in the position of having to work around the clock until this important ad campaign pitch on Friday.
I caught a glimpse of the sketches she was feverishly working on, but she moved with the grace and agility of a puma, swiftly blocking my view before I could get a better look.
I have no doubt that whatever she presents will be nothing short of amazing. I hope she’ll land the job because she deserves it and because it means she’ll be around here more often.
I’m leaving this afternoon for a whirlwind trip to Vancouver. They are playing incredible hockey right now, which will be a tough test for us. We’re scheduled to fly back after our game tomorrow evening, just in time for me to surprise Sascha after her big presentation on Friday. I think I’ll pick up some flowers. Win or lose, I’m determined to celebrate her hard work and dedication.
As I drive home, my mind wanders to the endless possibilities of how our lives could have been altered if that day nearly twenty years ago had never occurred. The what-ifs linger in my thoughts like a heavy fog that refuses to lift. That one fateful day, I lost everything—my father, my childhood home, the life that I had always known.
If that hadn’t happened and we’d grown up together as best friends, what would our relationship be like today? Would my dad and brother be in my life? And what about Gram and the role she took in raising me?
I remind myself once again that everything happens as it’s meant to, and those years, as difficult as they were, helped to shape me into the person I have become.
As I step through the door, my mind reels with the tasks and responsibilities that await me. My keys clink against the entryway table as I drop them haphazardly, my focus completely consumed by the chaos of my thoughts. Ignoring the answering machine’s insistent beeping and flashing red light, I rush past it without glancing. It’s not until two hours later, when I’m finally heading out the door, that I remember to check for any messages. As the voice on the machine speaks, my mind goes blank in shock. Panic floods over me like a torrential wave, and my plans change immediately.
Sascha
As the sun sets behind the towering mountains, a warm orange glow bathes the conference room where I have spent the entire day working. My back is stiff and sore from hours of sitting, so I stand up and stretch, my arms reaching high above my head. I feel the knots in my neck and shoulders slowly loosen as I release a sigh of relief.
Derek left a couple of hours ago, leaving a lingering scent of musk and cologne. Working with him was pleasant, but once he finished helping me with some mockups, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to stay longer. He’s a kind and attractive guy, but when Michael is around, it’s impossible for me to see anyone else.
Despite feeling exhausted, today was incredibly productive. Tomorrow is the big presentation, and I’m confident about how everything is coming together. Jerry hasn’t stopped by to check on me, giving me some much-needed space to focus on my work.
My stomach has been grumbling for the past hour, a reminder that I haven’t eaten all day. Unlike the other day, Michael hasn’t been here to remind me to take a break and eat. I’d give anything for a peanut butter, banana, and marshmallow fluff sandwich.
I’m too tired to go out for dinner, so I decide to head to the hotel and grab a bite from the restaurant. A bacon cheeseburger and a hot shower will do wonders to help me clear my mind and get ready for tomorrow.
I’m thinking about calling Michael at his hotel, which absolutely sends the wrong signal, yet is the only thing I want to do when my hotel phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Bug.” My mom’s voice is tired as it comes over the line. I gave her the hotel number when I arrived in case of emergencies. The fact that she’s calling doesn’t bode well for the news I’m about to receive.
“Mom, what’s going on?” I ask frantically. “Is Dad okay?”
“He’s fine, sweetheart,” she says with a sigh that stretches the silence for way too long. “It’s Ida Tazman, honey.”
I sit heavily on the bed like an anchor is pulling me down. I can’t draw breath as I wait for my mom to tell me the news I know is coming.
“She died earlier today.”
As Kerri would word it, Ida wasn’t a spring chicken, and it’s not as if we didn’t all see this coming sooner or later. At some point, we all die, and Ida lived a long and full life, doing everything she could for those she loved. That rationalization doesn’t stop the deep ache in my chest.
“Was it sudden?” I ask with a shaky breath.
“No. It was peaceful,” she says with appreciation in her voice. “Michael was with her. He flew in from Vancouver when the nurse was concerned about her vital signs. Ida didn’t want to be transferred to the hospital, so she stayed there in her room, where she was comfortable.”
“He was there?” I reply, and I don’t know whether that’s good or bad.
“He was. They had some pastries this morning, she fell asleep with him holding her hand, and she never woke up. It was as good of a death as anyone can ask for.”
A full-body sob wrecks my body. I saw Ida at Christmas, and she was working on a scarf for me. No matter what happened with her grandson, she and I remained close. She was my friend. And she’s gone. I cry for the loss of her in this world, the loss of her in my life, but mostly the loss for Michael. He must be heartbroken. The last bit of family he had is gone.
My voice cracks as I ask my mom, “How do you know? Did he call you?”
“He stopped by the house earlier,” she says softly. “He looked worn down and agreed to let us help plan a memorial, but not until after the season is over when the ground thaws.”
A lump forms in my throat as I say, “I have to come home. I need to see him.”
“I’m sure he will appreciate that. He’s staying with Landry right now.”
“Okay, Mom. I’m going to call Jerry and tell him I can’t do my presentation tomorrow. I’m sure he will understand.”
“Of course,” she says softly. “Call us with your flight details, and we will pick you up from the airport.”
I sigh and look at the clock. “I won’t be able to catch a flight until tomorrow morning.”
“We will see you soon, Bug,” my mom replies.
“I love you, Mom.” I feel compelled to tell her that right in this moment.
“I love you, too, baby.”
I hang up, call the airport, and get booked on a flight home in the morning that will stretch my credit card to its limit. I don’t care, though. My singular focus is getting to Michael.
Next, I call Jerry.
“Take your time,” Jerry replies. “We’ll be ready whenever you are to present the campaign.”
Feeling grateful for his flexibility, I quickly throw my clothes into my suitcase and then proceed to pace back and forth, trying to calm my nerves.
As the night drags on, my anxiety increases. My cab will arrive at 5 am, so I decide to try and get some sleep. But whenever I close my eyes, images of Michael being alone flooded my mind.
Restless and unable to sleep, I leave for the airport a few hours earlier than planned. My heart races with nervous energy as I navigate through check-in and get my ticket in hand. The dull hum of strangers’ conversations fills the air, but my mind is elsewhere. I sit and flip through a magazine, not really comprehending the words on the pages.
Finally, they announce my flight’s boarding process at 6:30, and a surge of adrenaline rushes through me. As I make my way onto the plane, I try to calm myself down and keep my emotions in check.
For the next three hours, I struggle to hold back tears as memories flood my mind. But as soon as I see my parents waiting for me at the gate, all pretense fades away, and I break down in their embrace. Tears stream down my face as they hold me tight.
After a few moments of comforting silence, I manage to choke out the words, “Take me to Landry’s.”