Page 89 of Slap Shot Daddies

I take a deep, measured breath, I recount the story, how it all began so casually, just a bit of fun, but then it transformed into something deeper, something more profound.

How Kenzie slipped seamlessly into our lives, as though she had always been meant to be there. How Braden, ever the steady and emotional anchor, had been our glue, until the pressure became too much, and he snapped, disappearing without a word.

“And Kenzie, she’s been sick,” I continue, my voice growing tighter with each word. “Like, properly sick. Ally told us to give her space, but…it’s been ages now. I feel like she’s pulling away.”

Just then, our food arrives, the plates clinking softly against the table. The burger in front of me is hot, the grease glistening and seeping into the toasted bun as I take a bite.

Brooks chews thoughtfully, his brow furrowed as he processes my words. “Yeah…sounds rough. But it’s not uncommon. It’s a lot for everyone. You gotta talk, man. All of you. Communication’s the only thing that holds this kind of thing together.”

I nod, swallowing hard, the bite of food sticking in my throat. “Braden’s the talker. He kept us balanced. Now he’s gone, and I feel like we’re losing her.”

Brooks sighs deeply, his eyes meeting mine with a steady gaze. “Then it’s on you and Ambrose. You need to step up. Show her you’re serious. Show her you can be that guy too.”

I pick at my fries, each grain of salt clinging to my fingertips as Brooks’ words settle into the air between us. He wipes hismouth with a napkin, his voice calm yet firm, resonating with a sense of quiet authority.

"Look," he begins, leaning forward slightly, "when we started seeing Ally, we fumbled too. We all had different ideas of what this was supposed to be. But we figured it out because we communicated. We made sure she felt safe, that she understood we were all committed."

I nod, chewing and swallowing another mouthful, though the burger's juicy richness barely registers on my taste buds. "But what if she doesn't want to hear it?" I ask, a hint of frustration coloring my voice. "She’s so…guarded, like she’s constantly bracing herself for us to just up and leave."

Brooks leans back in his chair, his eyes meeting mine with a knowing look. "She’s scared. That’s normal," he replies, his tone gentle but insistent. "But you can’t let her drift off because of it. You need to show up for her. Even if she tries to push you away, prove to her that you’re here to stay."

I take a long sip of my malt, the sweetness momentarily distracting me from my thoughts. "Braden," I continue, a wistful note creeping into my voice, "he was the heart of it all. He could make her laugh even when Ambrose was sulking and I was being…well, me."

Brooks chuckles softly, a warm sound that cuts through the tension. "I get it," he says with a reassuring nod. "But people grow into their roles over time. You’ll figure it out. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be real."

His words sink into me, grounding me like an anchor.

Real. We can strive for that.

I absentmindedly push a crispy fry through a thick smear of ketchup, my appetite finally making a slow return after hours of worry. “We tried the romance stuff,” I say, recalling evenings spent reading Braden’s heartfelt poems and Ambrose’s invigorating morning runs with her, “but it’s like she’s pullingback. She’s been sick a lot lately. I mean, Ally mentioned it’s just a stomach bug, but it’s been dragging on for weeks.”

Brooks leans back in his chair, his brow creasing with concern. “That’s tough. I know Ally checked in on her. If she’s not alarmed, it’s probably nothing major. But…sometimes there’s more beneath the surface than what we can see.”

I nod, but a persistent unease churns in my stomach. “Kenzie’s not one to complain. She tackles everything head-on. But I don’t want to overwhelm her. I just…”

“You care,” Brooks cuts in, his eyes meeting mine with understanding. “That’s a good thing. Just don’t let your concern make you pull away. Women like Ally, and probably Kenzie too, they need to know you’ll stick around even when they insist they’re fine.”

The image of Kenzie’s weary face flashes in my mind, her eyes shadowed with fatigue, yet still trying to maintain her strength.

I take a sip of my drink. It’s diluted now, but the coolness soothes my throat. “I just…I’m falling for her, mate. Like, properly.”

Brooks grins, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I figured. Welcome to the chaos. Now hold on tight.”

Our plates are nearly empty, crumbs scattered across them, when Brooks leans back in his chair, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

“Ally came home right after seeing Kenzie the other day,” he says, his voice casual yet probing. “She didn’t seem worried. But you know how she is, doctor first, best friend second. She won’t break that confidentiality.”

I nod, folding the napkin in my lap and wiping my mouth with it. “I respect that,” I reply, though a knot of frustration tightens in my chest. “But it’s hard not knowing what’s going on.”

Brooks chuckles, the sound deep and reassuring. “Get used to it. In these kinds of relationships, you’ll never know everything. You’re not entitled to it. You just have to trust her to let you in when she’s ready.”

His words settle heavily on my shoulders, the weight of them unexpected. Trust. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?

We steer the conversation toward hockey, dissecting strategies for the upcoming season, but my mind drifts. I nod along, feigning interest, but my thoughts loop back to Kenzie, circling like restless birds.

As we stand to leave, Brooks claps me on the back with a hearty thud, his hand solid and grounding. “We should do this again. Anytime you need to talk, just call me.”

“Thanks, Brooks. Really,” I say, meeting his steady gaze.

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