Page 57 of Cold Comeback
Instead, I said, "That's why you keep running. From me and from everything that matters."
"Yeah. The minute you want something, it owns you. And then it breaks you."
I turned his words over, testing their weight.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Has your family been supportive? Through all this?" I gestured vaguely at everything—Richmond, us, the conversation we were finally having.
His eyebrows rose. "Have yours?"
My laugh came out sharp. "My dad calls Richmond' the situation.' Like it's a temporary embarrassment I'm inflicting on the family reputation."
"What do you mean?"
"He called after I got here. Wanted to make sure this wasn't permanent." I could still hear the controlled disappointment in his voice. "Told me happiness is for people who've earned it. And that I haven't. Not yet."
"He said that?"
"Word for word. Then he started talking about putting me in touch with people who matter and getting back to real hockey." I picked at the bedspread. "I tried to tell him this was real, that the guys here were good people, and maybe I was already happy for the first time in years."
"And?"
"He said I was settling for less than my potential."
The words had been poison rattling around in my head. Out loud, they landed with twice the weight.
"That wasn't the worst part. He never called after the viral moment—radio silence for months. Then, suddenly, he's worried Richmond might stick, and that's when he checks in. Not because he cared if I was okay. Because he cared about damage control."
"Fuck, Thatcher."
"Sitting in Dot's afterward, watching the guys just live their lives—Pluto with his coupons, Knox solving the world's problems one complaint at a time—I realized Dad's never going to think I've earned enough. There's no finish line with him."I looked up. "I've been performing for someone who was never watching. He only shows up when he's disappointed."
Silence stretched between us, filled only by the heating unit's mechanical breathing.
Gideon finally spoke. "We're both pretty fucked up, aren't we?"
"Spectacularly."
"I can't even want coffee without worrying it'll ruin me."
"At least you want things. I just... perform until someone claps." I picked at the bedspread. "But Bricks didn't need me to earn helping him, you know? It just was."
Gideon added, "But the guys here don't need me to earn anything. They just let me exist."
I thought about Knox defending me to reporters, and Pluto automatically including me in his coupon conspiracy.
"I keep thinking about that night with Bricks," Gideon said. "You chose to help him because you wanted to, not because it would benefit you."
"So?"
"Maybe that's it. Choice. Staying. Choosing you. Choosing happy. No permission slip required."
The words resonated with me. "I've been trying to earn everything—Dad's approval, hockey success, the right to be happy. But you can't earn those things."
"No?"
