Page 107 of Romancing the Grump
He nods. “He’s a special kid. You both are.”
It’s not a conversation I expected—and definitely not one I’m prepared for. I’ve listened to people talk about my father like he’s some kind of hero my entire life. But thoseaccolades have always had everything to do with his time on the ice. No one cares what kind of father he was.
But Coach Rivers just talked about Dad as a man. As a person—not just a hockey player. And he actually had nice things to say.
It always frustrated me growing up that Mom was so tolerant of Dad’s poor behavior. He wasn’t a violent man, so that made it easier. Instead, he was an emotional drunk—weepy and sad. But he endlessly took advantage of her kindness. Walked all over her. Spent her money. Never held down a real job.
I sometimes hated her for being so passive…as much as I hated him for being so absent. But…is it possible she saw something in him that I couldn’t?
Was there more to my father than I was ever willing to see?
I ride with Mom, Blake, and Cassie back to Portland. Blake has school tomorrow and will need to be back in Boston, but I’ve got a flight out in the morning anyway, so I’ll grab a rideshare for us both, drop him off at school, and head to the airport from there.
I think we all feel a need to be together tonight, even if we aren’t saying as much out loud. It’s been years since we have been, and with Blake’s charges dropped, it feels like we have something to celebrate.
It’s nice being with my family, listening to Mom and Cassie’s easy conversations, talking hockey with Blake, but Summer is ever-present in my thoughts. The more time that passes, the more I wish she were beside me, holding my hand, grounding me. She matters to me like my familymatters to me. It doesn’t feel right to be with them…withouther.
“So,” Cassie says, turning around in the front seat to face me. “I’m just wondering if the reason you look so exhausted has something to do with the girlfriend you told me was just a publicity stunt but clearly isn’t.”
I look up from my phone. “What?”
Cassie gives me a smug look. “That was some make-out session. Do you kissallyour fake girlfriends that way?”
“Cassie. What are you talking about?”
She rolls her eyes and holds up her phone, revealing a grainy video of me and Summer outside of Mulligan’s. I recognize the old Chevy truck Summer is sitting on. It has one of those two-toned paint jobs, white with a faded teal stripe down the side, so it’s easy to remember. The clip is short, and there’s nothing to truly identify us, which is probably why I haven’t heard about the video before now.
Parker keeps a pretty close watch on stuff like this, and she would have let me know if there was a reason to be concerned.
“You can’t even tell that’s us,” I say. “Where did you even find that?”
“A friend from high school sent it to me. She’s a crazy Appies fan and said she found it on one of the fan sites. There’s a vote happening right now regarding the validity of the video and whether people think it’s really you and…Summer? Is that her name? Only twenty percent think it’s you, but I know better. I recognize your shoes, and I can also see Dad’s ring hanging around your neck.” She gives me a pointed look. “Now, spill it. Clearly, this is more than a fake relationship.”
I sigh and prop my head on my hand, my elbow resting on the door.
“Dude,” Blake says, watching the video over Cassie’s shoulder. “You’re dating her for real? She’s smoking?—”
“Stop,” I say, not wanting to hear what my little brother has to say about Summer’s appearance. “Can we not talk about this?”
Mom meets my eye through the rearview mirror. “We’re just excited for you, honey. When can we meet her?”
“I don’t even know if there’s anything to be excited about. We’re not really…” I have no idea how to summarize the nature of my relationship with Summer. Not without unpacking the whole thing, and I have no desire to do that with my entire family. “Nothing is official,” I finally say.
“Well, then make it official,” Mom says. “Bring her home to meet us. You aren’t getting any younger, Nathan. And you won’t always have hockey to boost your appeal.”
“Yeah, man,” Blake says. “Gotta land a wife before you get fat and ugly.”
I roll my eyes, reaching over to punch my brother in the shoulder. But I can’t get my mom’s words out of my head.
She, of all people, should know that hockey is a negative, not a positive, when it comes to relationships.
Once we’re at the house, we do the family thing for a few hours. Eating pizza, hanging out with Cassie’s kids, watching tapes of the last hockey game Blake played before his arrest forced him to take some time off.
Hearing how excited he is to play in his next game almost has me reaching for my phone to text Summer, to tell heragainhow much I appreciate what she did for us.
That’s been happening all day. Impulses to tell her something, text her something. I keep resisting, mostly because the last thing Summer said to me wasI love you andtexting her a randomheyfeels incredibly stupid and anticlimactic.
But I can’t justtexther that I love her.
