Page 41 of Safety Net
She and Henrik talked a bit longer before she ended the call with her typical invite to stay with her whenever we were free on the weekend.
"Things are getting hectic around here," I said.
"We'll be there next weekend," Henrik said simultaneously.
I glared at him when we hung up.
"What?" he asked. "I miss home. And Grandma. And none of us is getting any younger."
I looked to Finn for help, but he offered, "I would like to see her. I want to get to know her again. She seemed like she liked me before."
"She liked you a lot," Henrik assured.
"More than me," I grumbled as I opened my phone to take note of all the assignments I had due this week. My calendar was bloated with obligations between classes, Anthony, and the musical. I highlighted everything I had to do with Celeste in pinkand marked them as a high priority. Seeing her in my calendar provided a sense of ease. If only I could find a way to spend a little time with her every day. Even if it was only for a few seconds. What I'd give for a second of her time.
"And still likes you," Henrik said.
I glanced up in time to see a rare smile from Finn. "I'm happy to hear it."
"Lucky you," I mused. "Because I'm unhappy about being railroaded into sharing all my business."
Henrik sighed. "Okay, first of all, it's your grandma."
"I don't see how that changes the fact of something being my business."
"I needed backup. You're all over the place. Messing around during practice. Taking on a sixteen-credit course load during your favorite time of year and then…this. It's all our business if you're going to mess around before the biggest year of your life, Lincoln."
He gestured to my art.
"Hey, this is a fucking masterpiece." I reached over, gathering my paper up in a messy pile. "It's not messing around. It's Celeste's life's work."
"She's twenty years old," Henrik said.
"You can be a twenty-year-old and have a life's work," I argued.
"Fine." Henrik shrugged. "But if that's true, then what's going on with your life's work? Why are you half-assing it in the mornings and staying up hours to do this?"
"It's obvious why," Finn said softly.
Henrik shook his head. "I don't believe it's all for a crush...Jesus, Lincoln, you're over-extending yourself for a crush?"
"I can make decisions without my heart and dick, thank you very much," I told them. "And you two are not the ones to cast stones. Mr. Panic Over a Doorknob. And Mr. Dear Eden."
Finn covered his mouth, chuckling, while Henrik remained unamused and on my ass.
"I'm all for your head over heels interest," Henrik said. "I am. But I'm more for you not getting in your own way and working toward your goal. Your dream. You told us you didn't know what to do after college, and now you're spending all your time working on someone else's goal. I'm sorry for roping in Grandma, but Lincoln, it's the only thing I can think of to trigger you to admit what's happening."
"Nothing's happening—" I tried.
"Could you just be honest for once?" Henrik asked. "At least with us. It's us, Lincoln."
"I am," I snapped. "What the hell do you want me to say?"
"That you don't want to play hockey," he said. "That you spent all high school and college following our dreams. Our footsteps. And now that the rudder is gone and the rest of the boat is splitting apart, you're looking for a replacement. You're looking for another guide. You can't decide without someone else leading the way."
I scoffed and looked everywhere but at them. "You think you've got everyone figured out."
"Maybe not everyone, but I've figured you out, which is why it's hard not to want to jump in and save you every practice. But I will do it. I will do it if you look at me and tell me hockey is what you want. We will fix whatever is going on if you want hockey."
