22. Abby #2
He was able to recruit fifteen kids from the area to come play in the hockey game today.
Which is a number that makes my heart ache. It means there are fifteen kids who have experienced childhood cancer.
There are more than that, of course. These are just the fifteen who can ice skate and are interested enough in hockey to participate in this particular event.
Still, being able to give these kids such a fun event and show them this kind of community support makes me happy.
I remember how important it was to understand that there were people, even those who didn’t know me, who cared about what happened to me and who were willing to step up with their time, energy, and money to try to help.
“That reminds me,” Thomas says, reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrawing a small square envelope. “I can’t believe I almost forgot.” He hands it to me.
I frown, confused. “What’s this?”
“Amy Dickerson asked me to give you this.”
I smile at the familiar name. “I noticed Eli wasn’t here, but I thought maybe they had a conflict. It’s so nice of her to remember me,” I say, accepting the card.
Eli is from two towns over and participated in a few of our events in the past.
A strange expression crosses Thomas’s face, but Benjamin leans in and kisses the top of my head. “I see someone I need to speak to. Are you okay for a moment?”
I grin up at him. “I think I can survive.”
He returns my grin. “I hope not for long and that you’ll miss me every second.”
I laugh as I watch him move off.
“You know that your men are a big part of why the raffle numbers and some of those auction items are so high right?” My boss asks as Benjamin joins a group of men in suits.
I look at her. “What do you mean?”
Karina laughs. “Well, those three drove up the bids on everything for one thing,” she says. “And then goaded a bunch of their friends into bidding.”
“They did?”
“And they put a bunch of money into the raffle,” Patsy adds.
I smile and look from Benjamin back at the ice, where Kane has just pretended to completely miss the puck and let an eight-year-old steal it from him.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” I say.
“They are the reason that we have the jersey from Blake Wilder, and the dinner with Crew McNeill, too,” Rosie says.
“Really?” I ask. “You didn’t get those?”
“I thought the weekend trip to Chicago was pretty impressive,” she says.
“It is,” I assure her. “As is Mr. Armstrong’s donation to the raffle.”
She laughs. “Well, that actually came from his wife. I mean, I’m sure he would have donated, but she was the one to write the check.”
I smile. I’ve always been a fan of Danielle, the woman who infamously married Nathan Armstrong, Crew McNeill, and Michael Hughes, the Racketeers team doctor at the time.
I glance at the ice again. Hmm. She’s making it work, very publicly, with three men.
“But Kane made a call, I guess,” Rosie goes on. “And it turns out that Dash has met Blake Wilder a few times and Blake is impressed with him.”
I suppose that makes sense. They’re both goalies within the same organization. And Dash is impressive, if I do say so myself.
It also makes sense that Crew might know who Kane is.
“I didn’t even know they knew them,” I say. “They didn’t tell me they were getting those things.”
Rosie smiles. “I think they just did it for the cause. Not to impress you.” Then she laughs. “And I don’t think Kane knows Crew McNeill. He just kind of goes for it, doesn’t he? He strikes me as the type to just believe you have to shoot your shot.”
I laugh and nod. “Yes, that’s him.”
Thomas eyes me. “Well, it seems to be working out for him. Professionally and personally.”
I watch my men on the ice, and at that moment Kane happens to glance over and catch me watching. He gives me a big grin, and I lift my hand and wave at him.
He is such a good guy.
I am very much looking forward to showing all of my men how much their support means to me tonight.
“Oh, there are some people I need to speak to as well,” my boss says. “Excuse me.” She moves off, and I remember the envelope in my hand. I tear it open and read little card.
My good mood evaporates instantly as I read the note. Then I stare at the photo enclosed.
It’s a photo of Eli Dickerson.
He’s smiling. He’s also completely bald. And very thin and pale.
“Oh my God, Abby, are you all right?”
Thomas reaches out and grabs my arm as I wobble. Rosie is right in my face, trying to get me to focus.
“What’s going on?” she asks, gripping my upper arms.
“He…died.”
Rosie gasps. “Who did?”
I swallow with difficulty. “Eli Dickinson.”
I look up at Thomas and see that he already knew this.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you knew.”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t hear.”
I love all of the kids and have gotten to know a few of them through this event, but I felt bonded to Eli. He had the same cancer I did.
“He got sick again about six months ago,” Thomas says.
“This says he passed four months ago,” I say, my voice shaking.
Thomas nods. “It went quickly.”
I shake my head. I feel the tears welling up, but no matter how quickly I blink, I can’t make them disappear. I look down at Eli‘s photo.
Suddenly, I can’t breathe. I can’t talk to these two about this.
I hear a whoop behind me from the ice, and I glance over. The little kids all have their arms thrown up into the air as the puck just slid past Dash again to score.
Dash is trying to pretend that he’s disappointed, but he’s not pulling it off.
I look around. Everyone is having a great time.
That’s exactly how it should be.
Everyone here should be having a great time. Celebrating. Enjoying life.
But Eli should be here.
And I can’t keep going right now, thinking about him and how unfair this is and how fucking scared I suddenly am.
“I need to go,” I say quickly, folding the card and tucking it into the pocket of my sweater. “Will you tell Benjamin I needed to leave? I’ll talk to them all later.”
I can’t tell Benjamin myself. He won’t let me leave. He’ll try to make me feel better and I don’t want to hear platitudes or how sorry anyone is or how everything is going to be fine.
It’s not fine for Eli’s family.
I don’t pause to listen to any questions or tell Thomas and Rosie anything further.
I have to get out of this building. I have to get away from all of this happiness and celebration.
Which is a terrible negative reaction, and a horrible thing to think, and definitely means I need to be the one who leaves. I can’t bring all of this down.
Some of the parents might understand what I’m feeling.
They certainly have experienced this dread and fear, but I absolutely will not talk to any of them about it.
They need to focus on their child and the fact that that child is healthy and able to ice skate and play hockey.
I will not be responsible for anyone else feeling pain or fear right now.
I don’t hear anything Rosie or Thomas say. I am fully focused on getting to the nearest door.
Ironically, it is the same door I where I met Kane on my first day at the arena.