Chapter Thirty-Eight
Ali never wanted her mother’s voice in her head but especially not now.
She didn’t want her voice telling her that JT wasn’t going to stick around.
Especially because Ali knew she was right.
JT didn’t stick around Hart’s Landing. Ever since she’d left for college, she’d been home a handful of times, and each time she’d stayed only as long as was necessary to be a reasonable daughter. Then she was gone again.
Ali invited JT to come into the house with her. She wasn’t sure what to say, but she had questions she should ask before they spiraled out of control in her head. She walked to the back of the house and offered JT a drink.
“I have water, seltzer, tea, and I can make some coffee.” Ali spread her arms to gesture at her cabinets.
“Water sounds good, thanks,” JT said, her voice quiet.
Ali handed her a glass but didn’t let go until JT met her eyes. “I’m sorry my mom ruined our win.”
JT shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry I let her get to me. But can I ask you a question?”
JT nodded.
“Do you already know where you’re playing this season?”
JT shook her head. “No.”
Ali considered her face; there was something she wasn’t saying. “But?”
JT sighed and set her glass down. “But I asked the league to put me anywhere but Boston.”
“What? Why?”
JT rested against the counter. “Because being that close to home is too hard.” Ali shook her head, unable to understand.
“My family doesn’t care about my career.
I know that. I knew that before my parents skipped out on my gold medal game.
I knew it, but it still hurt more than I expected when they weren’t there. ”
Ali took her hand, wishing she could take away her pain.
“So, when the league asked us to give them our preferences, I told them to put me as far away from home as possible. Because if I play in Boston and they never come, it will hurt a thousand times worse than if I’m in Minnesota and they never come.
At least then I can tell myself it’s the distance.
If I’m playing an hour from home and they never come… ”
Ali wrapped her arms around JT and wished she weren’t so damn small. If she were bigger, she could scoop JT up and comfort her. Instead, the best she could do was a hug around her middle.
“I’d come, you know? I’d come and cheer you on.”
JT kissed the top of her head. “You would?”
Ali pulled back to look up. “Of course. I’d be the most embarrassing fan in the world. I’d wear your jersey and make a big dumb sign.” She sighed. “I’d do everything I could to make up for your stupid-ass parents who don’t deserve to have a kid as great and as sweet as you.”
JT chuckled, her chest vibrating with the sound. “So, when your mom said I would leave and never come back, she was right.”
Ali nodded and leaned her head against JT’s chest. At the end of the week JT would be gone.
She’d be living a thousand miles away, only visiting the East Coast a few times during the season.
She’d be off being a hockey superstar with her pick of women who would be happy to cheer her on and share her bed.
And Ali would be in Hart’s Landing, teaching high schoolers, trying to avoid Kyle, and fighting off her mother’s attempts to get them back together.
It all sounded so bleak. Ali looked around the room.
Thanks to JT, the house was looking more like a place where she actually lived.
It had furniture and fewer boxes filled with her crap.
She had a whole office with beautiful bookshelves filled with novels and books about teaching and even books people had given her because they’d thought she might like them.
She had a home and a job she loved. She loved the teachers she worked with, and she loved the kids she had in class, even the ones who drove her crazy.
She loved the satisfaction of seeing a kid get it or find a passion, even when it wasn’t a passion for her class.
She could leave but she didn’t want to. She wanted to stay here and teach these kids because she knew what it was like to live in a small town and to think that was all there was in life.
She knew what it was like to dare to dream of more even when no one around you thought more was possible.
Even when your own mom thought the best you could do was the boy you met when you were a teenager.
The guy who stole ten years of your life being “fine” because you didn’t think you could have more.
She wanted to be the teacher that made sure her kids knew there was more and they deserved everything they could find in the big wide world, even when that big wide world was Hart’s Landing.
“I’m sorry,” JT said, her voice full of emotion. “I know you love it here. I don’t want to ruin that for you.”
Ali managed a weak smile. “You’re not ruining it. No more than you telling me you don’t like peanut butter and chocolate would ruin Reese’s for me.”
JT pushed away from the counter. “I really am sorry, though. I—” Her voice cracked and she rushed to clear her throat.
“I like you a lot. I never expected there to be anything that could make me reconsider this town, but you have.” She paused.
“Seeing all those people showing up for the hockey game, I don’t know how to describe it, but it felt amazing. I never expected it.”
Ali’s heart broke for JT. She’d changed the town when she brought the first state championship to it.
She’d changed women’s hockey when she played in college.
She’d won a gold medal for Team USA, and yet she was overcome thinking about a bunch of people she barely knew coming to a hockey game.
How could she not know what she meant to everyone in Hart’s Landing?
How was it possible for someone to change a place for the better and to have no idea of her impact?
“I know it wasn’t always easy to be you in Hart’s Landing. I’m sure I don’t know the half of it, but I got a sense from Tommy of some of the bullshit you went through in middle school and high school.”
JT shook her head. “You didn’t need to know. I’m not looking for sympathy, I swear.”
Ali took JT’s hands. “I know you aren’t. But I want you to understand that even if it was awful for you when you were here—and I’m sure it was—it’s not as bad for the kids now. This isn’t some big ‘it gets better’ ad or anything, but you should know that this place changed because of you.”
JT hunched her shoulders forward, her hands buried deep in her pockets, and stared out the kitchen window.
Ali couldn’t read her mind or her expression, but it looked wistful.
“I’m glad,” she said, finally. “But my parents haven’t changed.
” She looked at Ali, her face fighting for a smile.
“Look at today. They were there for the artsy challenges. They oohed and ahhed over gingerbread houses, but they couldn’t be bothered to show up and watch the one competition I might be good at.
We set a record for the fastest time! Of course it’s silly.
The whole point is to make us fall and slip and slide around a track pulling neon sleds.
But this is the stuff I’m good at. And when it’s my time to shine, they’re nowhere to be found. ”
Ali stepped forward and wrapped JT in a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said into JT’s shoulder.
“It’s not your fault. If it weren’t for you, I would have left the day after Christmas. The problem is me hoping that this time will be different, this time they’ll show up. It’s the hoping over and over only to be let down that kills me.”
Ali placed a kiss on JT’s cheek. “I’m so sorry.” She felt JT relax against her. “Not to put this on you, but have you tried talking to them about this? Do they know how much they’re hurting you?”
JT shook her head. “It feels so hopeless. Even talking to them feels like just giving them another chance to disappoint me.”
Ali nodded. “I get it, but maybe it’s worth trying. I know it’s selfish to want you to be nearby. You should play for whatever team is going to make you the happiest, but I want you to know that if that happened to be the team in Boston, I wouldn’t hate it.”
JT sighed. “I feel so stuck. If I end up far away, I don’t give them the chance to hurt me. But then I’ll be far away from my nieces and nephew, I won’t be able to come cheer on those girls we saw the other day and…” She pulled back so she could look down at Ali.
“And?” Ali said with a sweet, expectant smile. She knew what she wanted JT to say, but she’d been the one to say they were friends and nothing more. And here she was, hoping for more.
“It wouldn’t suck to be able to visit you, too. Someone is going to have to check on all this furniture I built.”
Ali laughed. “You could always FaceTime with the bookcases. I’m sure they’d love to hear from you even when you’re on the road being a hockey star.” Ali put a hand on each of JT’s cheeks. “I know I said friends, but I’d like that, too.”
JT’s lips flattened into a line. They fought against a quivering building in the center.
A tear slid down her cheek. “I know this is impossible, I really do. But I really like you. Not because I had a thing for you when I was a teenager who had just discovered how hot girls are. Okay, maybe a little because of that. But mostly because of how you make me feel. I really…”
Ali kissed her and then rested her forehead against JT’s. “I really, too.”
“Yeah?”
Ali nodded. “At least we have one more event before we find out who wins the whole thing.”
JT nodded sadly. “Yeah, we’re guaranteed one more ridiculous contest. What is it?”
Ali shrugged. “They always keep the final one a secret. No one knows.”
JT frowned. “That’s annoying. But whatever. As long as Kyle doesn’t have some secret in with the contest committee or whatever. I don’t want to lose because he plows their driveway or something.”
Ali shook her head. “We’ll get a text telling us where to go and when and maybe a few instructions. How do you not know this?”
JT smiled. “I’ve never stuck around long enough to watch the whole competition. And maybe I like it when you explain things to me.”
“Oh yeah?” Ali pulled them closer together.
JT kissed her. “Mmm-hmm. Maybe now you can explain how we can get out of these clothes?”