Page 4 of Back On Ice

She backs away, peering around me with wide eyes. “You’re sure it’s okay that you’re here?”

“I told you, Mom,” I grab her gently by the arms and look into her eyes, “Dad is gone. I haven’t heard from him in over a year. Whatever he got mixed up in, it looks like maybe it caught up to him. He can’t control us anymore.” She nods tightly, and I let go, following her with my bags as she steps into the house.

“When’s the last time you went outside?” I keep my tone as light as possible as I take my shoes off by the front door, then walk through the entryway behind her. I’m convinced that Dad is gone, that his shitty lifestyle of gambling and worse, and his even shittier “associates” have finally been the end of him.

Even knowing that, simply walking into my childhood home gave him more power over me than I thought possible.

My stomach clenches involuntarily as my eyes dart around the front entryway. Literally nothing has changed. I might as well be seventeen again, Dad screaming at me over a shot I missed during hockey practice.

“I went outside a couple of days ago.” She waves me off, turning to face me in front of the bottom of the stairs. “I had to go to the grocery store and Bertha was at a doctor’s appointment. So I figured a little grocery shopping never hurt anyone.”

“Good.” I force a smile, trying to push the memories of my dad out of my mind. Mom has become more… hesitant to leave the shelter of home. Bertha, the woman I hired to help Mom out around the house and keep her company, has been a huge help for her mental health, but now I’m worried that she’s too comfortable staying inside all day. “Now that Dad is gone, you should get out more, Mom. Join a book club… or just meet oneof your friends for coffee. I don’t like the idea of you cooped up in this house all day.”

“I’m fine, my sweet boy.” Mom smiles sadly at me and reaches to squeeze my arm. “I’m just glad you’re back. Are you okay with staying in your old room?”

“More than okay. I’m glad to be back.” After I press a kiss to her head, I head upstairs with my bags to get settled. Halfway up, I pause. “Mom?”

“Hm?” She looks up at me absentmindedly from the spot on her sleeve that she apparently found very interesting.

“You know… you don’t have to stay here. I can buy you another house. One that he hasn’t tainted with?—”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Thank you, but no. I’m enough of a burden on you already, between you paying the bills and taking care of our home. You don’t need to buy me a house.”

Nodding lamely, I say, “You’re not a burden, Mom. But I get it. Just let me know if you change your mind.”

“I know, sweet boy. Thank you for looking out for me.” She turns and walks towards the kitchen, leaving me to climb up the rest of the stairs.

My feet sink into the plush carpet of the hallway, muffling the sound of my steps. My heart quickens like Dad is going to come around the corner and berate me for something trivial like forgetting to turn a light off.

My door, the last one on the left of the hallway, creaks open as I turn the handle. Not one thing has changed. It’s like nobody has taken a single step into my room the last nine years. Well, except to clean, I think as I note the lack of dust on the surface of my furniture.

The queen sized bed in the corner still has my navy blue comforter folded nice and tight around the mattress. The pillows look as though they were fluffed this morning. My gray walls are still covered with as many hockey posters as I could fit, andthe shelves on my walls are lined with every hockey trophy and medal I’ve ever gotten. There’s a new one at the end though…

Upon closer inspection, I see that it’s the trophy for the championship we won the day before Dad dragged me to Notre Dame. They must have brought it to me after I left. Closing my eyes, flashes from the game that day invade my mind, and all I can remember is the way Sophie felt in my arms when she ran up to me for a kiss after I shot the winning goal. The way we danced at the after party before she brought me back to her empty house.

My eyes snap open, and now all I can see is Sophie.

In the corner, helping me hold a poster in place so I could hang it straight.

Laying on my bed on her stomach, feet kicking and an open textbook in front of her while she helps me study for a biology test.

Her rubbing comforting circles on my back after she overheard my dad berating me for my performance after a game.

Our first kiss, in this very room after I confessed how I felt about her when we were fifteen years old.

Staying in this room is going to be torture. There has to be something that doesn’t remind me of her.

Flopping on the bed, I groan, looking at the ceiling. The poster right above my bed is an image of a full moon in the night sky. Sophie helped me pick it out. After we got it up, we spent the afternoon making out in my bed.

A grunt of frustration leaves me when I feel my cock pulse in my jeans at the memory. It must be some Pavlovian response to the bed or something because there’s no fucking way that I just got hard as a rock from a memory of kissing.

Needing to focus my mind on absolutely anything else, I hop off the bed and move to unpack my bags. I promised Tom I’d swing by the rec center later before the council meeting, but Ican be a bit early. Before I can dwell anymore on the past or how Sophie used to feel in my arms, I shoot him a text to let him know I’ll be there early, and give Mom a kiss goodbye on the cheek.

It’s not until I pull up to the rec center that I realize this place might hold just as many memories as my bedroom.

Chapter Three

CARTER

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