Page 113 of Ice Dance Hockey

Wiping my grease-stained hands with a cloth, I hand Mrs. Mavel her keys as the rest watch on from the porch. Jack, Casey, and Rhett are in lounge chairs with the baby, beer, and snacks. All three are shirtless and wearing board shorts. I want to lick the sweat off Rhett’s golden skin, but not yet.

Theo’s running around the front yard, while Lorelei kneels in the grass with some of her dolls. Bethany’s throwing a tennis ball at the side of the house, repeatedly, working on her hand-eye coordination, but when she hears the van pull up, she trades the ball for her phone. She’s on camera duty to get Merc’s reaction.

Merc exits the van, still dressed in his coveralls. In his hand is the bag holding the part and maybe a few others from the size of it. His eyes zero in on me as he processes what the hell’s going on and when he figures me out, they narrow.

He takes his time walking up to me as Mrs. Mavel gets into her newly fixed car and drives off.

“Explain yourself,” he says.

“I found a gasket among the spare parts and thought I’d give it a go. You’re such a good teacher, I had zero problems. Amazing, eh?”

I pictured this moment a few times. I knew it was possible for him to be angry, but the chances of that were low with how much this family enjoys a good prank.

I did imagine shock and maybe a few expletives, but not tears.

Merc’s wiping tears. Real tears. Oh shit. What have I done? I catch the watery smile before I can freak out too much and next I know; he’s got me in a bone-crushing hug. “I should be so mad that I spent four hours hunting for that part—and I will get retribution on your ass, boy, mark my words—but I’m too proud. I knew you were amazing, and you continue to prove that.”

Well, shit. Wetness streaks its way over my smiling cheeks.

“Booooo!” Casey shouts from the porch. “I signed up for a comedy, not this sappy family shit.”

We let each other go, wiping at our tears. “Fuck you, Casey,” we say at the same time.

Merc smiles. “So, did Mom teach you?”

I shake my head. “No. Well, not really. She refused to teach me, so like the shithead I am, I watched her from afar. She didn’t ban me either and I picked up the craft from her various boyfriends and girlfriends over the years—she had a type—plus, they had a program at school. After that, I’m self-taught … and now from you, big brother.”

“Fuck. You’re gonna make me cry some more, kid.” He slings an arm around me, and we head toward our audience on the porch. “But you know what this means?”

I don’t like the suspicious way he’s said that. “What?”

“I can have a day off once in a while. That job was high-level. You get all the oil changes from now on.”

Dammit. “Or, I was thinking, we could take on more jobs a day.”

“I like that. Too bad we’ve only got a couple of weeks left.”

“I mean, there’s always next summer.”

A wide smile cracks his face. “Yes. Definitely next summer.”

I don’t want to ruin the moment, but this feels like a clean slate, and so there’s something I have to get off my chest. But it’s also because for the first time—maybe ever—I feel like I belong somewhere.

“I’m an asshole, Merc. I wanted to break you and Jack up because I thought you might get rid of me. It doesn’t make any fucking sense now, but it did at the time.”

His lips hitch into a wry smile. “I figured as much, and I even understand how that could make sense to ya.”

“You’re not mad?”

He shakes his head. “Kinda found it cute. Y’know, like when Theo tells me he’s never coming to my house again because I won’t let him stay up past his bedtime.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. It was juvenile.”

“Enough to warrant a little teasing, but I know the underlying trauma that brought it on and that’s no laughing matter, kid. You needed to get to this place. No words were gonna bring you there. You had to live it.”

Merc gave me the space to let me live it, even though I was doing asshole, toddler-ish things. He didn’t take them personally. Fuck, I would have definitely taken them personally. I wanna be more like Merc when I finally grow the fuck up.

I’ve always wondered how Merc got top spot in this family. He’s strict, but he’s not Mr. Iron Fist. From the outside, it might appear like he’s letting people walk all over him, but that’s not it at all. He knows when to push and when to let go, giving you the opportunity to make choices. Giving you the opportunity to fuck up or succeed in your own time—that’s how confidence is built.

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