Page 30 of Power Forward

The fact he mentioned he’s been—and still is—in therapy all this time tells me he’s determined not to let this beat him. And from the sleepless nights I’ve lost reading articles upon articles, I know there isn’t a cure for depression, but there is treatment, and the vast majority of those peoplewho receive the appropriate help do go on to live full, healthy lives.

So, I need to focus on that and be there for him in any way he needs me.

Then there’s the meeting I had with Isabela’s school the other day regarding her behavior. I wasn’t quite sure how to take it when they said they believe she might be on the autism spectrum. At first, I was shocked, and then I became kinda angry because I assumed they were trying to tell me she was a “problem child” and that there was something wrong with her. But once that initial shock wore off,I listenedto their reasons, and it began to make a lot of sense. Her communication struggles, the way she always wants the same food, her need for control, her anxiety around new people or any form of change. Her separation anxiety with me.

I left the school with a handful of leaflets and feeling equal parts hopeful, guilty, and worried. Hopeful because I was in a privileged position where I had the money to put toward anything she needed. Guilt because I blamed myself. Was it something I gave her? Could I have picked up the signs earlier if I had been home more? Then also worried because I don’t want her to experience any kind of negativity from judgmental assholes.

I’m not able to take her to see the pediatrician until I get home from this road trip. My mom offered to take her, but I’m already absent for other important appointments, and I won’t fail Isabela on this. I want to make sure the appropriate support is in place to help her receive the best education possible while accommodating her and tailored to herlearning styles, then I can ensure she has everything she needs at home.

She’s still my incredible daughter, but now, I’ll be able to educate myself to understand her better and give her whatever she needs in order to thrive.

“Wanna talk about it?” Zach asks. “I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

I smile over at my teammate.

Zach is one of the quietest guys I’ve ever met, and often, he gets shit on the ice because of his size. He’s at least six foot six and weighs over two hundred and fifty pounds. Guys usually want to fight him because of it, but Zach doesn’t fight. Isabela refers to him as a gentle giant because he is exactly that.

“There’s been a lot going on recently. Like I had a meeting with Isabela’s school because there’s been a few… behavioral issues. They told me I should speak with her pediatrician about getting an autism diagnosis.”

Zach’s brows lift in surprise. “Ah, dude. Is there anything we can do to help out?”

“I can’t help but blame myself, you know? I mean… Fuck. I’m away for eight days now. I’m their main guardian, and I’m not gonna be home for over a week. How can I give her the support she needs when I’m never fucking home?”

Greg gives my calf a reassuring squeeze, reminding me he’s still working on my tight muscle. “Hey, it’s not your fault. My son Ewan is autistic, and while it is really tough sometimes, once we found the right support for him and adjusted things to meet his needs, both at school and home, it became a little bit easier.”

I glance over my shoulder at the Thunder’s trainer and give him a grateful smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’m happy to talk anytime, and I’ll hook you up with a few of the specialists who work with Ewan, but I promise you, it’s not because of anything you’ve done.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

He gives my leg another squeeze. “Now, relax for me. This hamstring is going to give you shit all night if you keep tensing up.”

I laugh and settle back on my front, resting my cheek on the back of my hands.

“We’re here too,” Zach chimes in. “I mean, I might not know what to do, but we’re here for anything you need, even if it’s someone to talk to or moral support at an appointment. You say the word, we’ll be there with you.”

Warmth travels across my chest at his genuine words. I’m so lucky to have these guys.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

But now, it’s time to push all other thoughts to the back of my mind. Once Greg’s worked out the tightness in my hamstring, I go through my usual pregame cardio and get dressed, ready for the game.

Dallas is all over us. I find myself battling in the corners, and whenever we make it into the offensive zone, their defense is rock solid.

Then again, so is ours. Elliot’s stopped allDallas’ seventeen shots on goal, and Zach and Kendrick have been guarding that blue line like a brick wall during their shifts.

It’s still a scoreless game when we go into the third period. Blaine lines up for a face-off in the offensive zone, and I take my position on the edge of the circle. Blaine wins the puck drop, passing the puck to Peyton, who passes to Zach. He hovers around the blue line, waiting for an opening, then passes to Kendrick, creating a diversion for Blaine and Peyton to position themselves better. I get myself into position, ready to take a shot on goal. Zach passes to Peyton, and when he dekes their winger, he flicks the puck to me, and I snap a wrister toward the net. It hits the crossbar with a loudthunk, and the goalie covers it with his glove the second it drops onto the ice.

“Fuck!” I grunt under my breath.

The official blows his whistle to signal the TV time-out, and I skate back to the bench in frustration as the ice crew comes out. Tension is coiling at the base of my neck, and I’m not the only one who’s beginning to feel it. I jump over the boards and take a seat on the bench. Grabbing my water bottle, I squirt some into my mouth and watch as Elliot skates over. He removes his helmet, resting it on the edge of the boards in front of me, then pours water all over his face and hair.

“Did you see me out there?” he asks once he’s finished shaking his hair like a wet dog.

“I sure did. You were on fire.”

“I know! Fuck me sideways. I was like,bam, pow, kapow!” He mimics blocking shots with his glove and blocker. “I don’t even know how I haven’t let one in. I’m super impressed with myself. Five gold stars to me.”

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