24. Benjamin
BENJAMIN
I am not in a good mood.
In fact, I’m fucking in a downright terrible mood.
Abby isn’t here.
Even after Dash talked to her this afternoon I had hopes that she would come back to Willow Bay and show up at the game.
Instead, I’m sitting in the stands by myself, an empty seat next to me.
I got a ticket for her, just in case, and now that hard plastic seat existing without her occupying it is really pissing me off.
I had to fight the urge to snap at a woman behind me who asked if it was free she could put her kids’ coats on it.
I wanted to say that my girlfriend was showing up but that was ten minutes into the first period and my hopes were dashed by that point.
“Sure, no problem,” I had forced myself to say.
The game sucks too.
Dash already let a goal slide past him. It was an easy save too, but he is clearly distracted.
Kane is being reckless. He’s spent two minutes in the penalty box and checked another player into the boards so hard, the guy turned and took a swing at him. Kane had ripped his gloves off and was ready to go before his teammates had pushed him away.
He’s also frustrated.
I know we don’t have the right to tell Abby how she should feel.
This relationship is brand new. We’re all getting to know each other. I can acknowledge that the three of us can be overwhelming. For someone used to holding people at arm’s length it’s probably pretty damn smothering.
But I know—we all know—that this much love, attention, and care is exactly what Abby needs. She’s been starving herself of attention for a decade, afraid to impose on anyone.
It’s going to take time for her to recognize why she wants to be with us and fully embrace it.
Having patience is hard as hell, though.
Especially when my personality is to be a problem solver. I like action. Present me with a problem and I will walk you through the steps to fix it immediately, if not sooner.
The Mutts finally score in the second period.
Popcorn rains down on the back of my neck. I glance back.
A kid who can’t be more than five is jumping up and down with his fist up in the air in excitement.
The mother looks mortified. “I’m so sorry! Brayden, tell the man you’re sorry.”
But it finally cracks through my misery and makes me genuinely smile. “No worries. Gotta cheer when the Mutts score, right, buddy?” I lift my palm off to offer him a high five.
The kid slaps my palm with fierce enthusiasm. “Yeah!” he shouts, before cramming a fistful of popcorn into his mouth.
I’m watching him and not the ice so when the fans give a collective gasp, I’m slow to realize something is wrong.
Turning forward, I see that a player is down.
“Oh, my goodness, that’s Kane Meyer,” the mom murmurs to her husband.
It is. I see his number on his jersey.
Kane is splayed out on the ice, out cold.
“What happened?” I ask the man to my right.
They aren’t showing a repeat of whatever happened on the jumbotron. They usually don’t when a player gets seriously hurt.
Not fucking good.
“Got tripped and slammed into the wall head first.”
Shit. I jump up. “Excuse me,” I tell the man. “Meyer is my brother. I need to get down there.”
“Oh, damn,” the guy says. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s tough.”
Kane is being surrounded by players and the team doctor. I can see that he’s already conscious again and attempting to sit up. He’s being held down by the doctor.
Relief courses through me.
I don’t usually get rattled by Kane’s injuries. He’s had about a million of them over the years.
But I’m emotional as fuck this weekend. I want to control things that are out of my control, and this isn’t helping.
It makes me feel even more helpless and I already feel pretty damn helpless over Abby being an entire hour away at her parents’ house.
An hour later I’m staring at my brother in the ER.
“Did we win the game?” he asks. “Doubtful without me there.”
Not even a concussion can tamp down his ego. Amazing.
“No, we lost. Dash just texted me the final score. He’s on his way.”
“He doesn’t need to come here,” Kane protests. “What, so we can all just sit around and wait for the doctor who still hasn’t shown up?”
“The doctor came ten minutes ago. You were asleep.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Kane looks over at the monitor next to him. “Look at my stats, man. Top notch vitals. The nurse told me that.”
I snort. “There are no points scored for best vitals in the ER.”
Kane looks pale and he was, in fact, dozing, even if he wants to deny it.
But the doctor wasn’t concerned. Just told me to follow standard concussion protocol.
I’ve been wrestling with whether or not I should call Abby.
Dash enters the room, his hair damp from his shower. He looks relieved to lay eyes on Kane and see he’s okay.
“What was that?” Kane asked him. “That puck went by you like it was in fucking slow motion. My mom could have blocked that.”
“And you tripped over your own fucking skates and went face first into a wall. No one was even around you,” he growls back.
“Guys, cool it,” I say. “I know we’re all having a rough time today without Abby but let’s not take it out on each other.”
“Did you call her?” Dash asks.
“I was waiting for you so the three of us can decide together.” I shake my head. “I was wondering if I should or not. Is that manipulative to call her and tug on her heart strings when she asked for space or will she be upset if we don’t call her and tell her Kane was injured?”
“I think she’ll be upset if we don’t call her,” Dash says.
“And I’m perfectly willing to play up my injury if it brings her home,” Kane says, with a grin. “I didn’t like today. Today sucked. Being without Abby is stupid.”
“Eloquently put,” I say, wryly. “Fine, if you guys agree, I’ll call her.”
I’m not even sure if she’ll answer.
But thankfully, she does.
“Hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry but–” I’m actually not sorry at all. The sound of her voice was like a punch to the gut and I need her. “I felt like I should let you know that Kane is in the ER.”
“What?” Abby gasps. “Oh my god, Benjamin! Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. He just has a concussion. I’ll put you on speaker.” I hit my screen. “Kane, tell our girl you’re fine.”
“Hey, Lollipop, I picked a fight with the wall, and I lost but I’m all good. No worries.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. “Oh God, Kane. You must be in so much pain.”
“Nah. Had much worse than this.”
We all hear her audibly let out a sigh of relief.
“We weren’t sure if we should call you or not,” Dash says. “We don’t want to upset you.”
At that Abby actually swears under her breath.
My eyebrows shoot up and I eye Kane and Dash. Abby isn’t much for swearing.
“What’s that, Lollipop?” Kane asks.
“I’m angry with myself,” she says. “I’ve done this all wrong, said the wrong things if you think that you can’t call me and tell me when there’s an injury or an emergency.
That you think I can’t handle hard things.
” She pauses. “Though I understand why you think that. I…didn’t handle this last hard thing very well.
And I’m really sorry.” She pauses again and we hear her sniffle as if she’s tearing up. “I should be there.”
I’m not sure what to say to that.
“This wasn’t to make you feel bad,” I tell her, my heart aching for the pain I hear in her voice. “We just didn’t want you to be upset when you found out later that Kane was in the ER.”
“I’m glad you called. You should always call,” she says, softly. “I want to know what’s going on with all of you. Good and bad.” She stops, then says. “I get that now. We’re in this for better or worse, right?”
My throat feels tight and I nod. Then clear my throat and say, “In sickness and in health, Abby girl.”
“Damn right,” Dash says.
“No matter what, Lollipop,” Kane adds.
She sniffles again, louder and it’s clear she’s crying now. “I would drive home tonight if I had a car.”
Home. She said home. About us. The relief I feel is so strong I have to take a deep breath before I can speak.
“No,” Dash says before I can. “It’s too late. Even if you had a car, we wouldn’t want you driving in the dark upset. Kane’s okay. We’re here. We’ll see you tomorrow? Or Monday?”
We’re all trying desperately to be thoughtful and considerate and fuck, it’s killing all three of us.
“Tomorrow. First thing,” she says firmly. “I love you. All of you.”
“We love you too.”
“Take care of Kane, please.”
“We will. Even if he’s a lousy patient.”
As it is, Kane is fucking around with the buttons on the bed, and he nearly launches himself across the room when the mattress suddenly snaps forward behind his head.
I snap my fingers at him and point in warning.
We end the call a few seconds later after final goodbyes and I glare at my brother. “Are you trying to give yourself whiplash on top of a concussion? For fuck’s sake.”
“No. I’m trying to get up. We need to drive to wherever the hell Abby’s parents live and pick her up. This is bullshit. You heard how miserable she sounds.”
“She did sound miserable,” Dash admits.
“I can’t believe she somehow feels guilty.” I shake my head. “I hate that. I hate this. I want to hug and kiss her and show her that we’re a team. We do all the hard shit together.”
“That’s why we’re going to get her,” Kane insists.
I eye him. He still looks loopy.
“No. You’re staying here until you’re cleared by the doctor. We’ll go get her.”
“I don’t like that,” Kane protests.
“Then maybe don’t kiss a wall next time,” Dash says, giving him a grin.
“Fuck you.”
Dash claps Kane on the leg. “No, seriously, bro, you need to stay here. We’ll go get Abby. If it’s any consolation you getting your brains scrambled is the reason Abby has realized she should be here with us.”
Kane reflects on this. “Then I’m a fucking hero. Go get our girl, boys. Bring her home.”
“We’re on it. I’ll tell the staff we’re leaving, and I’ll call one of the other players to be on standby to pick you up if we’re not back before you’re discharged. You cool with that? Unless you want Dash to stay with you.”
“Hell, no. I’m fine by myself. Just go.”
I pat his leg, feeling the best I’ve felt all day.
Kane is fine.
And Abby wants to be here, with us.
“Let’s do this,” Dash says. “I can’t stand the idea that Abby is upset.”
“Not for long.”