Page 109 of Romancing the Grump
“I know he wasn’t after he quit hockey. And I don’t want you to defend him. He was awful to all of us. But before—when I was too little to remember—was it ever good?”
Mom takes a deep breath, her eyes shifting out to the shadowy yard. A slight breeze ruffles through the trees, and the swing on Allie and Caroline’s playset squeaks as it moves.
“It was good,” Mom finally says, a wistfulness to her voice that I’ve never heard before. “Really good. He always loved hockey a little too much—I think that’s why his injury hit him so hard. But he loved you kids, too.”
“Honestly, it never really seemed like it.”
Mom shakes her head. “I know. He wasn’t present like he should have been—not after the accident. I won’t excuse him for that.” She looks over at me. “Why? What’s made you so contemplative tonight?”
“Nothing. Blake, I guess. All this stuff with him.”And Summer,I don’t say out loud. Though I’m a fool to blame how I’m feeling on anyone but her.
“And the girlfriend?” Mom says, clearly reading my face.
I run a hand over my beard, resisting the urge to flee, to run away from this conversation like I have so many times before. “Dad once told me that I can’t have both,” I say. “I can’t play hockey and also have a family. Not without making everyone miserable.”
Mom narrows her eyes. “He said that, did he?” She huffs out a disgruntled laugh. “The big idiot.”
“It was true, though, wasn’t it?” I say, pushing back. “He couldn’t do both. Even when he wasn’t playing, he couldn’t leave the game alone.”
“Nathan, your father was a drunk,” Mom says. “It wasn’t hockey that made him a bad father. It was alcohol. Any lie he told to absolve himself of responsibility was just that—a lie. The only time he was even a halfway decent dad was when hewasplaying hockey. I’m sure he didn’t want you to follow in his footsteps, and I’d rather you not as well. But if you don’t want to turn out like him, the only thing you need to avoid is alcohol. Don’t blame the sport. That’s just ridiculous.” She hedges for a second. “Areyou avoiding alcohol?” she asks, her words laced with concern.
I nod. “Yeah. I am. Don’t worry.”
Growing up, Mom mentioned the genetic component of alcoholism enough times that even in college, when my friends and teammates were partying every weekend, I never drank a drop.
I’ve never really done things halfway. All or nothing. Probably why this thing with Summer has been so hard.
“Didn’t you hate it when he was traveling?” I ask Mom, clinging to my quickly fraying excuses. “You had two kids you were basically raising alone.”
“I did hate it. But I wouldn’t have changed it. He loved to play, and I loved watching him play. Honestly, what was the alternative? We were in love, and he was a hockey player. I wanted to be with him, so the schedule, all the traveling, it was just part of the deal.”
I shake my head, not wanting to accept the reality she’s presenting.
She shifts to face me, like she’s warming up to the topic. “There were perks, too. Your dad made good money when he was playing, and it was fun being a Bruin. It was a good job, Nathan. For a while there, it was even a good life.” She nudges my knee. “I know that’s hard for you to believe. But it’s true.”
“Itishard for me to believe.”
She picks up the blanket and wraps it around my shoulders, rubbing a hand across my back. “I can’t think of anything more tragic than you keeping yourself from having a life outside of hockey because you’re afraid of winding up like your dad.”
Behind us, the sliding door opens, and Cassie steps outside, a cup of coffee in hand. “What are we talking about?” she asks as she drops onto the back porch swing.
Mom squeezes my shoulders. “Nathan was just getting ready to tell me all about Summer.”
“Ohhh, I timed this well,” Cassie says. “I’ve been dying to know if everything the internet has already told me is true.”
I narrow my eyes. “What has the internet told you?”
Cassie puts down her mug and ticks things off on her fingers as she talks. “She’s an attorney who works for the Appies. Originally from North Carolina. She has an identical twin sister who does something in the medical field.And—I will absolutely freak out if this one is true—her other sister is married to Flint Hawthorne.”
“The actor?” Mom says. “Oh, he’s handsome.”
“Is it true?” Cassie says. “If it is, you have to marry her so you can have a wedding he will attend.”
“It’s true,” I say, “but don’t go telling your crazy Appies fan friend.”
Cassie squeals. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! This is so exciting!”
I hold up a hand. “Like I said, nothing is actually official with Summer. We’re not…we still have some stuff to talk about.” Even as I say the words, I feel the emotions in my chest start to shift, the feeling from earlier, right before I read to Allie, coming back with double the force.
