Page 40 of The Hat Trick

“I just…he sounds like he really wants to try this time.”

Bryson and Brandon are closest in age of all my siblings, being barely a year apart. We are all close together, but I’m two years older than Brandon, then Bryson is two years older than Bailey, and she’s two years older than the baby, Brynn. Since I cut off Brandon, Bryson has taken it upon himself to try and help him. But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want it.

“Sounding like he wants to try, and actually trying are two different things,” I tell him. It’s something I had to figure out a long time ago with my brother.

“He needs help, though,” he tries.

“I’m sure he does, and I will give him that help if he gets started on his own. I’m not forcing him into some treatment center he won’t even complete again.”

I hear him sigh. “I know you don’t believe in him anymore, but he’s still our brother.”

I don’t say anything. I know he’s our brother. I also know that I’ve tried. Everything I’ve done has been for my siblings, and trying to give all of us a better life than the one we were born into. It’s why I worked so hard with hockey growing up. We couldn’t afford for me to play for an actual team, but I would sneak into the ice rink to watch the other kids play. I would learn the game, and then when everyone would leave, I would put on my second hand skates I managed to buy from loose change I found, and I would skate.

I’d use any stick I could find, and sometimes there would be pucks, sometimes not. But I’d practice. Improving my skating, speed, and handling. Then, one day a coach had hung back and saw me. He decided to take a chance and let me join the team on a scholarship I’m ninety-nine percent sure he made up.

And the rest was history. I knew I would have to make it all the way. I worked to make sure I would. When I signed my first contract, I almost passed out on the amount it said I was going to make each year. A lot of the guys ended up going out and buying ridiculous cars or a mansion. I paid off my truck. My ten-year-old truck. I still have it, but I ended up buying a slightly newer—but still used—truck two years ago.

I helped my siblings with what they needed and bought this house. Everything else went into savings, and I continue to add to it even though there’s more money in there at this point than I could ever spend.

I realize I haven’t said anything to Bryson in a while, and finally I tell him, “If he’s serious he will check himself into a center, and I’ll pay for it if he gets through it.”

It’s the deal I’ve put out to him countless times before stopping, but I’m not going to support his relapses anymore. It’s not fair to him, me, or any of our siblings who continue to hope he will turn his life around. Especially Bryson.

“Okay. Also, call Brynn, she’s bugging me about Christmas.”

“I will,” I tell him before we hang up.

I finish with the dishes before I call my sister. She answers after the second ring.

“Hi hotshot,” she greets. I’ve always been closest to her, despite our seven-year age difference, and the fact that I basically raised her. She’s the only sibling that gives me the most shit about my career.

Oh, and the first to give me shit about anything that happens during a game.

“Hi shorty,” I respond. All of us Collee kids are tall. Every one of us is over six feet?. Except Brynn who only reached five-foot-nine. She resents it, so I like to remind her whenever I can.

“Shut your face. What’s up?”

“Just talked to Bryson, and he said you wanted to know about Christmas?”

“Mostly just confirming we are all going to your house again.”

They always do. Sometimes our other sister Bailey doesn’t show, and Brandon hasn’t been there for years. Our parents are another story. They aren’t invited anymore either, not after they showed up to my house, drank everything in sight, and thought property damage was hilarious. Now, it’s just me and my siblings.

“Of course.”

“Perfect, can I fly in a few days early?”

I look down at my phone calendar. Considering it’s already less than a week before Christmas I question, “When?”

“Tomorrow?” she asks sweetly.

I groan. I knew I was going to be buying her plane ticket since she lives in California, and yes, I should’ve done it earlier, but it slipped my mind, which is not usual for me. Clearly, I’ve been more distracted than I realize, and I don’t like it.

“Yeah, you can come tomorrow, but you’re staying at a hotel,” I say, reluctantly.

She squeals, and I pull the phone away from my ear. We say our goodbyes, and I buy her last-minute ticket, sending her the information. Everyone else lives in Ohio, where we are from, and since no one else has asked for a ticket, I just assume they will get it themselves, or they won’t come.

I text Bryson about Brynn’s plans, in case he wants to come here early too, and I end up texting Bailey as well. Then, I toss my phone onto the couch and head upstairs to take a shower. I try to reign in my distracted brain and focus on the control I do have because at the end of the day that’s what I rely on. Control. I need it. I thrive on it, and I will never let it be taken from me again.

---