Page 43 of Gamechanger

She settled into the chair next to me, wrapping her robe tighter against the morning chill. "Want to talk about it?"

I looked at her, really looked at her, and suddenly I was a kid again, scraping my knee on the ice and needing my mom to make it better. "Yeah," I said, my voice small. "I really do."

I stared out at the city skyline, gathering my thoughts. "It's Moose," I finally said. "I'm worried about him."

Mom nodded, waiting for me to continue.

"He's been working so hard lately," I explained, my words tumbling out. "I mean, you saw him last night. He looked exhausted. And it's not just physical tiredness. It's like... he's wearing himself down from the inside out."

"I did notice he seemed a bit strained," Mom admitted. "Is it the new job?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Partly, maybe. But I think it goes deeper than that." I recounted what Quinn had told me about Moose's college days, about his struggles with self-image and self-worth.

Mom listened intently, her brow furrowed in concern. When I finished, she reached out and squeezed my hand. "Oh, honey. That must be so hard for both of you."

"I just don't know how to help him," I confessed, feeling a lump form in my throat. "He's always been the strong one, you know? The one who has it all together. And now..."

"Now you're seeing a different side of him," Mom finished for me. "A more vulnerable side."

I nodded, blinking back tears. "I love him, Mom. All of him. I just wish he could see himself the way I see him."

Mom was quiet for a moment, sipping her coffee. Then she said, "You know, this reminds me a bit of your dad."

I looked at her, surprised. "Dad? But he's always been so confident."

She chuckled softly. "Now, maybe. But when we first met? He was a mess of insecurities. Full of energy on the surface, sure, but underneath? He was constantly second-guessing himself, worried he wasn't good enough."

This was news to me. I'd always seen my dad as an unshakeable pillar of strength. "What changed?"

"Time," Mom said simply. "Patience. Love. And eventually, therapy." She gave me a knowing look. "It wasn't easy for him to admit he needed help, but it made a world of difference."

I mulled this over, thinking about how I could broach the subject with Moose. "How did you convince Dad to go?"

Mom laughed. "Oh, I didn't. His boss did, actually. Sometimes it takes hearing it from someone outside the relationship."

An idea began to form in my mind. Maybe Dr. Chen, our team psychologist, could help.

"The most important thing," Mom continued, "is to be there for Moose. Let him know you see him—all of him—and love him just as he is. But also that you support him in becoming the best version of himself."

I nodded, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. "Thanks, Mom. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled, pulling me into a one-armed hug. "That's what I'm here for, sweetheart. Now, how about some breakfast? I think I saw some eggs in your fridge that are just begging to be turned into an omelet."

As we stood to head inside, I felt a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead might be tough, but with Mom's wisdom and my love for Moose, I felt ready to face whatever challenges came our way.

"Oh, and Finn?" Mom said as she slid open the balcony door.

"Yeah?"

She turned to me, her eyes twinkling. "When you and Moose work through this—and you will—I expect a proper family dinner. Your father's dying to challenge him to that bubble hockey game."

Chapter thirteen

Moose

The acrid scent of day-old coffee assaulted my nose as I settled into my cramped office. A slice of watery sunlight cut through the blinds. It was barely 7 a.m., but I was determined to get a head start on the mountain of paperwork for our upcoming charity gala.

I booted up my ancient desktop computer, its fan wheezing like an asthmatic bulldog. While I waited for it to creak to life, I pulled out my phone. Might as well check the team's social media accounts, make sure last night's post about our win against the Sharks had gotten some traction.

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