Page 20 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

I roll my lips between my teeth at her alliteration, chewing on my lower lip while I decide how to respond. But I’m consciously making an effort to let Brit befriend me, aren’t I? Which means making an effort to be friendly. And friends do this, they tell each other about who they’re dating.

My roommate in college, Mindy, always told me about her dating exploits and wanted to hear about mine. And while my stories were always pretty tame, she was unfailingly encouraging and happy for me throughout my relationship with Jared. And tried her best to be supportive when it ended. Maybe I should reach out to her. I’ve thought about it a few times over the last few years, but I kinda figured I tanked that relationship good and hard and convinced myself she wouldn’t want to hear from me at this point anyway.

But I could apologize. Extend a cautious offer to resurrect our friendship, even if it won’t ever be what it once was. Even if she doesn’t want to be friends with me again, an apology is still warranted.

First, I need to respond to Brit.

Hey! My weekend’s going well. How’s yours? Yes, that was me at the Cascade Cafe with the same guy from last night. I invited him out for brunch.

Brit

Wow! That’s awesome. Good for you! I was going to see if you wanted to join me for brunch tomorrow, but you might be all brunched out. Or maybe you have other plans. [Winky face emoji]

Lol, no, I don’t have other plans. Where were you thinking of going?

Brit

Since you hit the Cascade Cafe today, we could do the creperie instead? Grab some crepes and eat outside at one of the picnic tables out front?

That sounds great. Should we say 11?

Brit

Perfect. See you then!

I add the meeting to my calendar, then scroll through my contacts, stopping when I get to Mindy. I study her name and number for several long moments before tapping the button to send a text.

It takes several more minutes before I compose something, with multiple false starts, deleting things, and staring up at the ceiling while I compose an apology that takes responsibility without making excuses. It’s the most difficult type of apology because it doesn’t leave any room for defensiveness, but it’s also the best kind because it doesn’t feel like weaseling out of responsibility. After Jared left, he eventually sent me a non-apology apology text, and I sat and read it so many times, analyzing why and how it wasn’t good enough, and in that process, I came up with what makes a real apology. And this is what it amounts to—take responsibility, express regret, and don’t make excuses or try to shift blame.

Mindy, I want to apologize for how I behaved after Jared left. I treated you horribly, and I’m very sorry. I’m living in Arcadian Falls now. If you ever come out this way, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d love to take you out for lunch or dinner if you’re in town.

After typing it out, I stare at it for a long time, trying to decide if there’s anything else I should add or delete. Is the offer of lunch too blithe? Should I delete that part?

Ultimately, I decide yes, I should, replacing it with, “I’d love to reconnect if you’re open to the possibility,” and hit send.

Sucking in a deep breath, I put my phone on silent, set it on the table, turn on my show, and pick up the sock I’m knitting. It’s simple and mindless and exactly what I need right now.

CHAPTER TEN

Troy

Nick plops himself down next to me. I’m manning the fire pit, getting the fire going so we can roast hot dogs and marshmallows later. Dozer and Jenny are off somewhere doing things unfit for polite company, and based on Nick being here alone, I’m guessing Tina’s taking care of the kids. Lisa, the nanny, has the night off, though she’s been told she’s welcome to join us at the fire pit. As far as I know, she left as soon as she was officially off the clock. I can’t say I blame her. Socializing with your employers and their friends seems like it’d be strange.

At first Nick doesn’t say anything, just makes a show of sighing and stretching out his legs in the red Adirondack chair he chose. All the chairs are painted bright rainbow colors, making the fire pit a cheerful spot to hang out. He takes a long drink out of a bottle of water, then gestures to the other one he brought with him. “Thought you might be thirsty.”

I grunt my thanks, reaching for it after judiciously adding a few thicker sticks of wood to the fire. It’s blazing cheerfully now but needs to get a bit bigger before I add another log.

Nick sighs again, and I glance his way, eyebrows raised. He stares at me, an expectant look on his face.

Unsure what he’s waiting for, I stare back, mildly amused by the staring contest we seem to be engaged in. Apparently, we’ve regressed to elementary school. I can’t remember the last time I got in a staring contest.

He blinks first, then rolls his eyes and sighs heavily again. “Seriously, dude?”

I spread my hands. “What?”

Another eye roll. “Tina’s been nagging me since you got back, but I told her we needed to wait. Give you space. You’d fill us in when you were ready. But she’s not having it. So you gotta give me something to tell her.” He holds up his fingers, pinching a tiny space between them. “The tiniest bit of something to appease her. Otherwise, she’ll never let me rest.”

Chuckling, I sip my water. “Why doesn’t she ask me herself?”

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