Page 108 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

I drop my fork into the empty take-out box and place it on the coffee table, then put my feet up next to it.

My phone rings next to my feet as the credits and gentle swirling music start to roll over the squid.

It’s Mom.

“Hey, how’s Dad?”

“See for yourself.” She shifts her phone to show him sitting up in bed side by side with her, both of them under the covers.

“Well, you look a lot better than yesterday.” There’s actual color in his face. “A lot less like a slightly green corpse.”

“So much better,” he says. “But we called to check on you. How did your shoulder hold up today?”

“So far so good,” I say. “The trainer wouldn’t let me lift as much as usual, but I managed what I was allowed to do just fine. It’s not even aching or sore.” I rotate my left arm as evidence.

“Then why do you look so down?” Mom asks.

“Down?” And there was me thinking I was sneakily disguising that my insides are eating themselvesover Natalie.

“Your eyes are crinkly again,” she says. “And you were so happy last week.”

Yes, well, last week was kind of unique.

Dad peers closer to the screen. “Makes no sense being more sad when you’ve finally got the thing you wanted.”

Except I didn’t get the thing I wanted. I threw her away. “Just a bit tired. The trainer’s tougher in person.”

“Good thing you went to that amazing rehab center,” Mom says. “It obviously worked wonders.”

The weight of guilt over lying to my parents piles on top of the already heavy load of guilt at running away from Natalie.

None of them deserve this. I need to be better.

I plant my feet on the floor and rest my elbows on my knees.

I need to be more Natalie.

A surge of courage, or strength, or balls, or whatever the hell it’s called when you realize you have to bite the bullet and do the right thing, swells within me.

I’m going to do it. Come clean. Just fucking do it.

“Um, about that rehab center.” My heart rate rises. I’m not backing out now.

“I bet Natalie was a big help,” Mom says to Dad. “I could tell she was a good one from the moment we set eyes on her.” She turns back to me. “How is lovely Natalie, Gabe? Will she get to work on you again?”

The accidental double entendre would be laughable if it weren’t so tragic.

“The thing is, folks…” I take a giant breath, like I’m about to dive to the depths of a bigfin squid. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about all that.”

Mom looks baffled, like she can’t conceive of me evertelling her anything less than the one hundred percent truth.

“This is going to sound ridiculous…” I claw at my hair, tugging at the roots. Jesus, I could rip it out for getting myself into this situation. “But I wasn’t at a rehab center.”

That’s it. I made myself say it. But I still feel sick.

“What?”they say at the same time.

“It was actually my new house.”

---