Page 74 of Wake Me Up
Then there’s Saylor, who I see as the baby of our group because she’s so cute and bubbly. She loves being a nurse and puts everyone else’s needs before her own. If I could describe her in one word … I’d use the wordsunshinebecause that’s what she is.
Each of us has had our hardships, but somehow, the universe gifted us all something to make those hardships a little more bearable.
It gave us a Bay Shark, and that’s something I’ll never take for granted.
Logan is hammered and starting to get a little too emotional for me. That’s not my thing, and I don’t know how the fuck to handle it.
Maci took his daughter, Amelia, inside hours ago, and all the wives and kids left, too, leaving us to our own devices. Which means … we all are pretty hammered.
“It’s just … not going to be the same.” Logan pouts, taking a long pull off a beer that he definitely does not need at this point in time. “I fucking hate this, man.”
Walker doesn’t speak, but instead, he is stoic, like he usually is. He jokes around when the time’s right, but when shit is serious, so is Walker James. The kid came from absolutely nothing, with one of the worst upbringings I’ve ever heard of, and he clawed his fucking way out and made it to the pros.
“Maybe he’ll hate it and come back,” Kolt utters, poking a stick intothe firepit. “Maybe he’ll come back right around the same time my heart stops being a pussy and I get cleared to play again.”
I chuckle, shaking my head at him because I know I’m not coming back.
But the hardest part of me being done with hockey is that when we stepped into the arena to play for the Stanley Cup, everyone knew my decision was made and that it was the last game I’d be playing. But having Kolt back on the ice with me made my final game mean that much more. After all, he’s one of the best defensemen I’ve ever known.
The same could be said for Smith Sawyer, who is a total animal, but that fucker loves playing pranks on his teammates. I’ve always found them annoying because I never thought the arena had a place for jokes. Now? I know I’ll probably miss that shit too.
Ryder holds his beer to mine, smacking the glasses together. “I’m pretty fucking devastated to lose you, Talmage. But it’s been an honor, skating with you the past few years.” He brings the bottle to his lips, chugging it down. “And I’m happy for you. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, tossing my now-empty beer bottle into the recycling bin. “I’ll be back to visit. And you know I’ll be watching all you assholes on TV every game.”
“Probably criticizing us through the TV,” Walker says with a chuckle. “You can take Daddy Talmage out of the arena, but you can’t take the arena out of Daddy Talmage.”
“Every time I make a half-assed shot in practice, I’ll probably still hear you screeching at me to not be a lazy ass,” Logan adds before he stands up, attempting to mimic me. “When no one is watching you, Sterns … that’s when you should be playing your hardest!” He breaks into laughter at the end. “You’re a little nicer now, but, fuck, you’re a bit of a testy ol’ bastard, you know?” He nods toward Kolt. “You and this guy.”
Kolt simply stares at him, cocking his head to the side. “Someone’s got to keep you fucking morons in line. And it looks like I’m all on my own now, thanks to Talmage and his old-ass hips.”
We all laugh because this is what we do—we rib each other, but we have the utmost respect for one another at the end of the day. I love these guys like my brothers, and even though I’m not going to say it, I hope for nothing but happiness for each and every one of them.
“Here’s to Tripp. The OG Shark and one of the greatest NHL goalies of all time.” Kolt’s voice is impassive, but he holds up his drink earnestly, prompting the others to do the same. “We’ll miss you, brother.”
“To Tripp,” the guys all say in unison before taking a swig from their beer.
I know I’m making the right choice, and I’m happy about it too. But, fuck … this goodbye is much harder than I thought it would be.
Once a Bay Shark though … always a Bay Shark.
My sneakers crunch against the grass that is so dry that it might as well be hay. Someone should really water this damn lawn because this has to be the driest summer I’ve ever seen in Maine since I’ve lived here.
Stuffing my hands into the pockets of my shorts, I stop in front of the large gravestone with a beautiful etched picture of a pond with some deer beside it. According to Freya, her husband was an avid hunter and loved fishing, so I’d say she picked out the perfect stone for him.
My chest puffs out as I inhale a huge breath before I twist around, making sure no one is nearby. I’m not big on deep conversations—well, I wasn’t before Freya came into my life. But this conversation is going to be man-to-man, and it doesn’t matter that one of us is buried in the ground; I’m still fucking nervous as hell.
“Bet you’re wondering why the hell I’m here,” I say, looking down at the stone. “I don’t blame you either. If the roles were reversed, I’d probably find some way to haunt your ass.”
The wind blows, making the trees surrounding the graveyard sway, and I pull my hands from my pockets and kneel down.
“I want you to know, as much as I love her and those kids—and I’m telling you, I love them so fucking much—I’d give it up if I could bring you back so that they had their dad and Freya never had to go through a loss like she did, losing you.” My throat grows hoarse.
“I’m sorry that I’m taking them out of Portland. But I want you to know I don’t want to take your place, Jamie. I never plan to do that. But I swear to you that I’ll take good care of the four of them.” I put my hand on the top of the stone. “I’ll fuck up sometimes, sure. This is all fairly new to me. But I won’t hurt them—you have my word.”
I close my eyes for a second, and I just breathe. I don’t know what I believe in. I certainly don’t know if he can, in some way, shape, or form, hearme right now either. But I know if it were me in his place and the love of my life and the children I had to leave had a new guy step into their lives, I’d want to talk to him, man-to-man. Even if it’s impossible.
Opening my eyes, I give the stone a pat and push to my feet.
