Page 122 of Breakaway

He looks like a wreck, dark circles underneath his eyes, a shadow of a beard on his face. When he buttons his coat, I see bruises on his knuckles. Huh. Not that I thought Penny was lying about the fight, but it just sounded so improbable that I didn’t believe it. Yet here’s the evidence, right in front of me.

He gives Mom a peck on the lips before gesturing to the door. “We can get whatever you want, son. But I need some fresh air.”

I linger in the lobby for a moment so Mom can hug me. She kisses the side of my face, squeezing me tightly. “Listen to him, okay?” She leans back, cupping my chin with her gloved hand. “I love you both so much. I need you to be okay.”

“I love you too,” I say. My voice breaks, but it’s still easier to say to her than to Dad.

She pats my cheek before turning to Penny. “Izzy said she was awake,” she says, frowning down at her phone. “Time isn’t her strong suit.”

“It’s not Cooper’s either, if it’s not hockey,” I hear Penny say, a dry note in her tone. I almost turn around to stick my tongue out at her, but Dad is calling my name.

We stroll shoulder-to-shoulder down the sidewalk. At first, I think we’re just wandering around, but then he says, “Maps said the bagel shop should be up ahead,” and I realize he searched for the nearest one while I was saying bye to Mom. That makes my heart feel squishy. Then a beat passes and I feel silly. I asked if we could get bagels, so he found a shop. We’re in New fucking York. There’s one around every corner here.

Still, we each get a toasted everything bagel with cream cheese, plus little paper cups of coffee.

“Penny and I went ice skating last night,” I say. “At Wollman’s. Remember last year?”

“I remember I almost broke my wrist,” Dad says dryly. “That girl is a firecracker.”

“Be mad at me if you want, but don’t be mad at her.”

“Mad?” He leads the way to a bench just inside the park. “I’m not mad at her or you, son. I’m mad at myself.”

I nearly drop my bagel onto the sidewalk. “Dad? You feeling okay?”

He just stares out at the trees. “Blake is transferring the money back to you. What’s left of it, anyway. I agreed to replace the rest, so he leaves that much sooner.”

I swallow down a too-large bite of bagel. “Thanks.”

Despite knowing it’s for the best, my heart still aches. Maybe it’s like Mom said, and he really is best loved from a distance, but I liked having him around. If it wasn’t for him, I might never have discovered hockey, and then maybe I’d be a shitty wide receiver or something. It was nice to have an uncle, even if he fed right into the most fragile, insecure parts of myself.

Dad sighs, still looking around the park. A group of women fast-walk past us, and a dog walker comes from the opposite direction. No one looks at us twice, which I’m grateful for. James has said that he has trouble going out in public with Dad; someone always recognizes one or both of them.

James. I need to apologize to him, and to Sebastian. They were just trying to help, and I was shitty to them. I know that Dad and Uncle Blake’s relationship is complicated for a lot of reasons, but I never want to be at odds with my brothers the way they are.

Dad carefully sets his coffee on the bench beside him and turns to me, his hands clasped together over his knees. I’m drawn again to his left hand; the swollen, bruised knuckles make my heart do a somersault.

“I can’t believe you punched Uncle Blake,” I blurt.

He closes his eyes briefly. “Not my finest moment, perhaps.”

“Aren’t you the one always telling me not to lose my temper?”

“True,” he says wryly. “But when it comes to my children, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.” He sighs again. “Cooper, I haven’t been a very good father to you. When I saw how you looked last night—my heart broke. I’m sorry that I fucked up things so badly. And I needed to hear it. I hope you’re planning on keeping that girl around, because you could use her in your corner.”

I duck my head, a small smile on my face. “She’s the best.”

“And you deserve the best. You deserve a father who doesn’t make you question his love.”

I look up; Dad’s voice is breaking. There are tears in his eyes, and when he blinks, a few of them run down his face. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen my father cry before. When James got drafted by the Eagles, maybe? At Granddad’s funeral? I shake my head, barely comprehending what he’s saying. “I mean, I know... I know you love me.”

“I do love you. I’ve loved you since the moment your mother and I found out we were going to be lucky enough to have another son.”

I bite my lip. Across the path, two squirrels chase each other. A woman walks by with a little kid in her arms. So many ordinary things are happening around us, and yet my heart is beating like I’m sprinting down the ice with a breakaway.

“Cooper, look at me.”

It’s hard, but I make myself. He wipes at his eyes carefully with a tissue before folding it back into a square and tucking it into his pocket.

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