Page 136 of Slew Foot
“No, I’m not knocking it,” Mickey assured him. “I like to bake and Rafe knits, so …”
“Nice.” Tom flashed him an easy smile. “Baking’s not so great when your head feels like shit though, I’ll bet.”
“No.”
“Hmm. I’m trying to think of some of the other stuff I tried. Oh! Do you like animals? You could volunteer at a shelter, maybe.”
Mickey considered the idea. “I—I could look into it.”
He probably wouldn’t be a ton of help there on days he was feeling dizzy but the thought of being surrounded by animals seemed kinda nice.
He liked cats and dogs and he’d had a Schnauzer mix named Gunther when he was growing up. Gunther had been high energy and had been so excited every time Mickey took him for runs through the neighborhood or shot balls at him in the garden behind the house with his hockey stick.
“Good,” Tom said. “And you know, it helped me a lot that I had Krista. And my kids.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
Tom knocked shoulders with him. “So lean on Rafe through this, dude.”
“I …” Mickey’s throat spasmed. “But I want him to be able to lean onme.”
“Nothing’s stopping him from doing that while you lean on him. It can bemutual, you know.”
Mickey hesitated, unsure of how to word this without giving way too many details of their sex life to his teammate. “But we are, uh…”
Tom snorted. “Like you are on the ice?”
Mickey rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t find a way to make you both happy.” Tom shrugged. “I’m talking out of my ass here because I don’t know anything much about that kind of thing. But Krista and I got married young and we’ve been through hell and back together. She’s my ride or die lady and if there’s one thing Idoknow after all these years of marriage, it’s that you can’t fix anything without talking about it. But you might fix it if youdo.”
“True,” Mickey admitted.He thought about it some more. “True.”
“And good luck, man,” Tom said, rapping his knuckles against Mickey’s thigh.
“Thanks.”Mickey bumped shoulders with him in appreciation. He was a good guy.
“Anytime.”
Mickey nodded still staring out at the ice.
But Tom shifted to look at him. “Hey, Mickey. Imeanit.”
Mickey turned to look at him, surprised by the intent look on his face.
“If life starts to feel too dark and hopeless, come to me. Or Rafe or Hoyt or Racine oranyone. Whoever feels the safest. Don’t suffer in silence. The worst part of a concussion isn’t how fucking awful you feel or even being away from the game. It’s how hopeless it makes you. It’s the sneaky voice telling you nothing will ever get better. Your life will aways be like this. The world would be better off without you. Don’teverlet that voice win, you hear me?”
Rafe wound up talking to Gavin for way longer than he expected. They’d only wrapped up because Gavin had a meeting with Finn.
“Drop by any time you’d like,” Gavin said with an easy smile as he rose to his feet.
Rafe stood to clear away his lunch stuff, scraping the rice into the empty container. He couldn’t do anything about the stuff on the floor but … hopefully someone would come through with a vacuum.
He tipped the container into the trash and frowned when he turned and looked through the sliding door of the balcony overlooking the rink and saw a couple of guys sitting on the bench by the practice rink.
They were too far away to see their faces clearly, but Rafe recognized the red hoodie. It washis, something he’d bought at a concert a few years ago with a distinctive splash of color on the front that was impossible to miss.
Mickey had taken to wearing it lately, wandering around the apartment in Rafe’s massively oversized hoodie and his own shorts. Now, Rafe stepped closer to the door and saw Mickey was talking to Tom. He recognized him from the hideous neon green crocs he wore everywhere.
