Page 96 of Wrap Around
“No shit?”
“After our visit home and talking with Zac about how stupid and ignorant we were, I decided that I want to teach Health Sciences to middle schoolers. Zac is helping me find the best degree programs to apply to.”
“That’ssomething,” I say, referencing a conversation we’d had before. “It’s nice of him to help.”
“He’s been a good friend.”
He has, and I know it. I can’t help but be a bit wary of their friendship, something I know Silas feels acutely. But we talked about it, and I know he’s right. We can’t make her decisions for her, or protect her from everything. All we can do is trust that everything will work out, and so far it has. Zac has been keeping to his promise, talking to Lily once or sometimes twice a week on video chat. He’s definitely curious about Addy, and completely charmed by her, as anyone would be. But he’s not trying to push himself between Silas and his daughter.
I nod. I’m glad she’s finding something for herself. Something more, like she wanted.
Lily glances at me. “You still have that meeting with Coach Dempsey today?”
I frown and take a deep swallow of my coffee. “Yeah.”
“You seem… excited.”
I huff a laugh. “Not really. But it’s the right thing to do. I owe him an apology at the very least, and I know there’s exit paperwork and stuff that still needs to be done.”
“Well, good luck.”
“Thanks, sis,” I say, kissing her temple. “See you later.”
I’m really not looking forward to this. But I scheduled it all the same. It is the right thing to do, the professional thing to do. And Dr. Shelton thinks it might help me mend some bridges and get things back on track. It’s time to move forward.
The drive to the arena is quiet. When I arrive, the building is empty, the team long gone for post-season break. Team members are likely to come in on and off to keep up their workout regimens and stay conditioned, but it’s not mandatory right now.
I walk the halls slowly, until I reach the glass overlooking the rink. I stare down at the sheet of ice, taking a deep breath of the cold air. The distinct smell of freshly zambonied ice infiltrates my lungs and helps me sink into a relaxed mindset.
Hockey gave me purpose. It gave me structure, an outlet for my stress and the rage I carried for a lot of my life. And while I don’t know what the future holds, I know hockey will always be part of it. Maybe I won’t get to play at this level again, but I can try out. Maybe I’ll coach peewees. Maybe I’ll teach fundamentals to bored kids in the suburbs. Maybe I’ll do something totally different and be perfectly content cheering on Silas as he cuts up the ice with the Calgary Flames.
Whatever the future holds, I know this: I’m still standing. I have my family by my side, and we have each other’s backs. Life is far from over, even if I never touch ice again. I hope I do, though.
Coach Dempsey materializes beside me. I hadn’t noticed him walk in.
“The first time I saw you out there, you skated like something was chasing you. Kept your head down, didn’t talk much, just kept running from whatever you were escaping from.”
I nod, unsure what to say.
“Suffice to say the past always catches up to us, yeah? Doesn’t matter how fast or tough you are.”
With a huff of laughter, I shake my head. “Don’t I know it.”
He gestures. “Come on.”
I follow him to his office, grinning to myself at the memory of Silas first getting the news that he’d been called up. The way I’d stood here like an idiot waiting for him, giving myself away to anyone that was paying attention.
“I was sorry to hear about your accident,” Coach says. “Glad you pulled through.” No doubt he heard about it from Silas, who was in here a couple of weeks back to let Dempsey and the team owners know his decision about Calgary.
“Thank you, sir.” Then, before he can get another word in, I get out what I need to say. “I wanted to apologize. For the unprofessional way I behaved, and for leaving the team in a lurch the way I did. I wasn’t in a good place, but that’s no excuse. I let you and the team down, and I’m truly sorry for that.”
Coach folds his hands. “Despite all that, we’ll miss having you around, son. You’re a hell of a hockey player when you get your head out of your ass. But things being what they are, it’s out of my hands."
Nodding, because I expected this, I brace for the end. Coach slaps a folder on the desk. I open it, expecting release paperwork.
It isn’t.
He raises an eyebrow. “Sorry to let you know that you’ve been traded, son. It’s been a good run, but like I said, it’s out of my hands.”
