Page 86 of Pucking Fate

Of course she keeps up with her son’s hockey career. I bet her and dad watch every game.Watchedevery game.

“He did, until the end of the season, when he signed with the Bobcats and moved to Greensboro.”

“Well, you learn something new every day, don’t you,” she says. “Now, come on in and let’s find you both something to eat.”

“Okay, but I really need to use your potty,” Finley tells her, making her laugh as she guides him inside. She certainly seems in good spirits dealing with our father’s unexpected death.

When they’re both inside, I text Preston,I’m here. Where are you and Elle?

His response comes back a moment later.About thirty minutes away.

Hurry up and save me from this nightmare.

Is she already giving you shit?

No, not yet. But I still need backup.

With a heavy sigh, I pull open the screen door and step inside my first home. The smell of warm apple pie is so familiar, my stomach growls in anticipation.

My mom’s cooking is the best, even if it’s made with harsh judgements.

She offers me and Finley an array of covered dishes prepared by friends and neighbors, but I decline, excusing myself to go to the restroom while Finley digs into some chicken and dumplings at the dining table.

Since there’s no point in texting Preston again, I wander up the steps to see what became of my old room.

I flip on the lights, finding the space empty of my personal touch since I packed all my things up. There’s a thin layer of dust on the heavy wooden furniture. My queen bed has been made up with a light blue comforter that has orange blossoms embroidered on it. And a small gift box sits on the nightstand next to the bed.

Curious, I walk over to look at it closer, finding my name on the tag. I lift the lid, finding a stack of letters tied with a pink ribbon inside. Letters all addressed to me…from Christian.

Holy shit.

I remove the first letter from the stack with a shaky hand, noticing that the postmark is from years ago, addressed to my dorm room. But I had dropped out by the date it was stamped in order to get my spring tuition refunded, moving into Preston’s apartment nearby instead.

There’s a neatly sliced slit at the top of the envelope, as if someone, my mother or father, opened it with their ancient letter knife and read it.

I pull out the piece of paper inside, finding a handwritten letter from Christian on lined notebook paper.

Maya,

I decided to write to you since you blocked my phone number before I could really apologize for being so careless with you. I’m sorry I put you in such a difficult position. I just want you to know that whatever you decide, I want to be there for you. I sent you all the money I had to try to help with doctor appointments or anything you need.

Just because I moved a few hours away doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to make this work. Please give me another chance.

Love,

Christian

He actually wrote me a sincere, sweet letter.

I sit down on the side of the bed, unable to resist opening the next letter and the next. They all say similar things, apologizing, telling me he misses me, that he loves me even though we haven’t been dating very long.

One of the letters near the bottom gets significantly more interesting.

Maya,

Since you haven’t responded to any of my letters, I’m guessing you’ve given up on me. But I don’t want to give up on you. I’m not sure if it’s even possible to do. I miss you so damn much. I miss my best friend too, but I know Preston will never forgive me for the pain I’ve caused you. I would give anything for you to come to Greensboro, either to visit or to stay with me for good. Please don’t give up on us.

Love,

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