Page 58 of Actions and Reactions
Mom’s been happy with my setup, though she came here when I was traded and helped me put the apartment together four years ago. She’s told me many times that I’m probably not paying Fred enough, which is a bit insane,because she has no idea how much I pay him and I pay him more than enough.
Focusing on food and the logistics of it is easier by far than thinking about Silas leaving Las Vegas for at least three months.
He didn’t answer my texts, but I know he read them, and that has to be good enough. Knowing him, he’s just honoring my wishes, so why does it still grate on me that he didn’t write anything back?
I have no clue, and I really need to focus on something else right now. Anything else. I don’t have space inside me right now to feel bad for him. I do, of course, I feel like shit, and like all of this is my fault, exactly like I did seven years ago. But the difference is that now I’m an adult and it’s my responsibility to pick myself up and figure out how things between us could ever work. Even though Mom’s here, it’s stillmyjob. Once I’ve figured that out, if I find some flicker of hope somewhere, then I’m going to be able to worry about him.
“We’re playing LA Monday night,” I blurt out. It’s like a lifeline to my heart and brain.
“Your father told me.”
“I asked Gab and Laney if I could fly out tomorrow. The team is going Saturday because we have some promotional stuff to do over there, but that way I have an extra day.”
She nods and takes a sip of her coffee.
“That’s a good idea, baby. Is that why he asked Lex to fly down this weekend too? So you can have your boy time?”
She’s hiding her smile behind her cup, but I can still hear it.
“Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to come ...” I trail off, not knowing if that would be the right thing or not, because yeah, I do feel like spending time with my brother and father, where the only time we talk about our feelings is when one of us is yelling, you know, Neanderthal-like.
It’s not like Mom’s been hounding me to talk about my feelings since I spilled my guts last week when she arrived, and I think that satisfied her enough, but she’s looking at me with so much compassion all the time, it’s getting tiring.
I don’t know what I can say or do to make her stop, though, since I’m not okay. I haven’t thought about what I want, and I haven’t really researched delayed-onset PTSD like I said I would.
I’ve buried my head in the sand, and it’s a lot more comfortable than what I know awaits me if I open the feelings can of worms. That is one thing I have endless patience for.
“That’s a great plan, but I’m going to fly back to the city for the weekend and be back here by the time you’re home from Arizona on Wednesday.”
“That’s good,” I murmur. It does make me feel better, that she’s going to take some time away too. I know right now I’m a burden for her, no matter how much she loves me, and I know she does. But she has a whole life in New York, and it’s not right that she misses out on it.
“How do you feel about today’s game?” She asks, and I breathe easier at the topic shift.
“Vancouver’s a good team, and they’ve been getting better the last couple of seasons, but we’ve got this.” I nod with confidence. “I’m still not playing a whole lot,” I add in a lower voice.
“Have you told your teammates anything?”
“No.” This time it’s barely audible. “They asked me the other day about Silas not being there and I couldn’t even speak,” I confess.
“So they know something... delicate is going on.” Her hesitation is annoying only because I know she’s treating me with kid gloves, just like the guys have since that moment three days ago. The worst part is that I probably need it. “I think you should tell them, baby.”
“What?” I demand, reeling back. “I don’t even know what I feel, Mom. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on in my head. How the hell am I supposed to explain it to someone else?”
“By keeping it simple, Vin. You just tell them you’re heartbroken.”
Simple, yeah right.
Mom staysat my place when I go out to the rink for a very light practice before our evening game. She has some work to catch up on, she said, and I think it’s for the best.
She’s been glued to me the whole week, even coming towatch us practice. That’s had the nice effect of some of the guys getting used to her being a normal human being—though she is the best human as far as I’m concerned. But bringing your mom to work isn’t normal, for any job I think, and since it has been almost a week, I ought to start doing some things on my own.
Which is why I ask all the guys to gather around the locker room before practice.
“So, you guys might’ve noticed something’s been going on with me.” I project my voice a little louder and look straight in front of me, at Bear’s forehead, so I don’t have to meet anyone’s eyes, especially not Milkman’s. He’s the only one who really knew and is the only one I feel guilty about not telling before now.
“We have,” Mater says in a low tone.
“As some of you might know, Silas and I are—were,” I correct myself quickly. “Together. I honestly have no clue what’s going to happen, if we’ll be together again. We have a long, complicated history, and it’s just too convoluted to get into it, but what’s important to know right now is that Si’s going away because he’s...” Fuck, I don’t even know how to say it. “He’s getting some help.” I have to stop to clear my throat. “And as far as I know he’ll be back to work eventually. He’s not leaving the team in a lurch.” Though right now that seems like the worst thing he could do to get better, but he did say he’d be back.
