Page 22 of Hate to Love You

“Yeah, they’re going pretty good.” School started mid-August, and we’re a few weeks in. Practice for the season is already underway but it’ll become more rigorous once we start playing games which involves travel. I’m trying to stay on track with my classes because once that happens, I’ll have a lot less time on my hands.

I’m not going to lie—balancing hockey and school has always been a struggle. Sometimes there doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day to get everything done. I chose to major in business because I knew it would be helpful after I’m done playing hockey. I could have picked a bullshit degree like some of the other guys on the team—something less demanding—but how would that help me in the long run?

“One of my finance classes is a little tough, but I’m working through it,” I say as soon as I swallow down my eggs. I’m not sure what she adds to them, but they’re delicious. “Thanks for making brunch. Everything’s great.”

“You’re welcome. I love when we get together like this.” A smile pulls at the corners of Amber’s lips, but it’s tinged with sadness. “It’s going to be lonely without you stopping by on Sundays or us going to watch your games.” She glances at Dad. “I’m not sure what he’s going to do when you leave for Milwaukee.”

“I’ll work more,” he replies before shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth. The man works a minimum of seventy hours a week and is constantly flying off to meet one client or another. I don’t know how he could possibly work more than he already does unless he starts living at the office.

Amber worked for my father for about five years before they married. It’s not like she didn’t know what she was getting herself into. By all outward appearances, she seems to accept that work comes first. “Maybe we’ll get Hailey into skating.”

Dad shrugs before changing the subject back to school. “I spoke with your advisor.”

“Dr. Miller?”

He nods. “She said you didn’t do so hot on the last exam and now you’ve fallen from a B to a C.” He gives me a look. One that’s chock-full of meaning. “The last thing we need is for you to get benched going into the season.”

“I know.” There are actually two classes that have fallen into the C range, but if he doesn’t know that, I’m not going to mention it. All I can do is keep working my ass off in those classes and hope it pays off. When I have questions, I stop in for office hours. It’s not like I’m sitting on my duff, twiddling my thumbs.

“Look, Brody, I know school has been a challenge. You have one year left, and then you’re done. You’re ahead of the game with Milwaukee already being lined up. There are a few endorsement deals that are being considered. Once May rolls around, you’ll be able to focus on hockey full-time. You just have to push yourself a little harder.”

Push myself a little harder.

I’m not sure how much harder I can continue pushing myself. Every moment of my day is spent either on school or hockey. I’m genuinely stumped at how some of these guys party the way they do.

Who the fuck has time for that?

I know people around campus assume I’m just coasting through school waiting to get to the NHL, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. My degree matters. Yeah, maybe I should have picked something a little less rigorous. It’s not like Dad wouldn’t hire me afterward without majoring in business, but still…

This is what my mother wanted and fulfilling her wish is my gift to her.

“I’m working as hard as I can,” I say.

“You can’t afford to get benched,” he repeats.

Does he seriously think I’m oblivious? Of course, I’m aware of that! The very idea of riding the bench for even a few games this season is enough to induce nausea.

“John,” Amber says softly as she lays a hand on his forearm.

Not that my father and I get into it often, because we don’t, but Amber doesn’t like tension or raised voices. She’s one of those Zen human beings. I’m not sure if it’s an overabundance of Xanax or yoga, but my hat’s off to her on achieving inner peace.

I’d like some of that, please.

As soon as she senses Dad getting ramped up, she immediately steps in to smooth things over. Sometimes I feel like I should pull her aside and tell her that she doesn’t have to get in the middle of it. I’m a big boy. I can handle my father. I’ve been doing it for twenty-three years.

Just as he turns to his wife, Hailey lets out a loud cry over the baby monitor sitting on the buffet.

Setting her napkin aside, Amber rises to her feet. “I better check on her. She was up a lot last night with an ear infection. The doctor just called in a prescription.” She looks at my dad expectantly. “You’ll need to run over to the pharmacy after brunch and pick it up.”

Dad nods and waves her off. “Sure. Fine. I have to swing by the office for a couple of hours anyway.”

Once Amber is safely out of earshot, Dad mutters under his breath, “She wants another one.”

My brows pull together as I ask, “Another what?” I have no idea what he’s talking about. I’m just glad we’ve veered away from the topic of my grades.

He shoots me an exasperated look. “Another baby. Amber would like us to have another baby.”

The expression on his face is priceless. I chuckle and shrug my shoulders. “What’s wrong with that? Hailey’s a cute kid. It would probably be good for her to have a sibling.”

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