Page 39 of The Ex Puck Bunny
“Even buying the truck presented me with so many options it was almost overwhelming.”
“We’re pretty blessed if you think about it.”
“We are in so many ways. But I didn’t always see it that way. When I was a kid, sometimes there wasn’t a choice. Unless your brother and I raided your mom’s pantry.” His eyes spark with mischief.
“You guys always housed the fruit snacks.”
“We were growing boys.”
But I gather that if it weren’t for my parents, Grady would’ve been hungry. I cannot imagine that for Bunny or any child. It breaks my heart.
“You’re incredibly strong, Heidi. But I know sometimes things are hard for you, doing this on your own?—”
My eyes fill with tears, threatening to overflow. I stuff them back in to finish the thought he started to share. “Everything you said is true, but the part that no one says or seems to understand is that although I’m strong and I have help, it’s not quite the same . . .”
This time he ends the sentence. “Not quite the same as it would be if Trey were involved in your lives.”
I nod, fighting the lump in my throat.
Grady pulls me toward his chest and I melt, letting the tears drop, making his shirt damp. As steady as one of the sycamores surrounding us, he holds me close.
Bunny’s babbling draws my attention off my own problems and I pull away.
Grady’s expression is soft and understanding. “All I’m saying is just keep making the right choices, doing the best you can, and from time to time choose fun.”
I poke him in the side this time. “I thought all hockey players were big, dumb, oafs.”
“Just Trey. Well, and a few others,” he says.
“How’d you get so smart?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think the last few months. All I’m saying is to make time for trips to the park with hockey players who learned the fine art of Buckaroo.”
I cover my eyes with my hand. “Not you too.”
“Derek taught me how to do it.”
“Be careful,” I say, voice shaky, but mostly it’s like I’m warning myself.
There’s no real trick to Buckaroo other than watching out for furniture and avoiding hardwood floors—Bunny’s head and the guy on hands and knees, respectively. It’s a silly bouncing game my brother invented that just about gives me a heart attack but makes Bunny giggle endlessly. If she stays on, Derek—and now Grady—roll over onto his back, throw her in the air, and catch her. For the kid, it’s a win-win. She gets to ride on his back and fly like a bird.
He says, “It’s not that much different than when you were the flyer for the cheerleading squad.”
“We’re talkingabout my kid.”
“She’s super sweet. You’re lucky, Heidi.”
I tuck my chin. “I am? I mean, I am. I just didn’t think I’d be flying solo, as it were.”
“Trey is the one missing out.”
I nod, knowing this is the truth, and it’s also better revenge than my brother trying to beat him to a pulp.
We chat for a few more minutes, with me stealthily avoiding the social media management proposal, when my phone beeps with a text.
I check it. “Ugh. Uncle Stan needs me to cover someone who went home with a migraine. It’s karaoke night. Things get rowdy.”
It takes a full five minutes to pull Bunny away from the dog and then Grady, but we hightail it home so I can get a change of clothes. My parents don’t have plans this evening and are all too happy to look after Bunny.
