Page 42 of Safety Net
"Of course, it's what I want." But I didn't look at him. I couldn’t. My gaze remained on the marble countertop, tracing the cloudy shapes and wishing this were an easier conversation. Wishing I believed in myself enough to feel worthy of wanting anything, including hockey.
Henrik stared at me momentarily before shaking his head and getting up. "Fine, Lincoln. Have it your way."
He left the room. It was just Finn and me. The silence lingered until Finn cleared his throat and said, "Would you want to tell me? I wouldn't tell anyone."
I met his gaze and offered him a small smile. "I know."
"So?"
"So…" I shook my head and wiped my hands over my face. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing and…"
"It's okay." Finn nodded, patiently willing to wait all day for me to get this off my chest.
It was easier to talk to him. My friend didn't remember who I was. Who I said I wanted to become all those years ago. Finn didn't compare the past to the present. He was free to live without echoes of expectation.
"I'm not sure what's going to happen to me," I said. "After this year. I could go back home, but the thought of that makes me so sick I can barely breathe."
"But your grandma…she sounded like she'd love that," he said. "To have you home."
"She would." I nodded. "And I'd be okay for a while. But if I go back there, I know how my life will turn out. I know I'll let her convince me to work with her. It won't be horrible, but it wouldn't be mine, you know? I want something to be mine. Something that will stay. I thought that something was hockey, but…"
There was a clock on how long I'd have until the last time I was on the ice.
"I guess I've realized I'm alone," I said. "And I know you all will say I'm not, but… let's be honest, this is what life is. Families split apart. They find their way back to each other occasionally, but I will be away from everyone most of the time. Because ofthat, I wanted something of my own. I thought it'd be us, but that was wishful thinking."
I tried to laugh because it all sounded childish out loud. I don't like the mushy layer of sentimentality that coated my every word. Being an emotional person wasn't something I avoided, but this was a whole different level of feeling. I wanted to put it somewhere I'll never have to interact with it again.
Finn didn't take his time like he usually did in conversation. He quickly said, "You're right; you're on your own. But I don't think it's as negative as you view it. It's not as lonely. I know you well enough to believe you will find something that feels like home. I know you enough to say don't discount the home you've already made with us. You're so focused on saying goodbye. Lincoln, we're right here. When the time comes to move on from Mendell, we'll still be right here. Families don't split; they explore. Then they return and share everything they've found in the world."
I studied my quiet, kind friend. "You know, you would have clowned me a couple of years ago for being this upset."
"I was an asshole then." Finn smiled and then tapped his finger on one of my drawings. "Look, I can't do half the shit you invented. But I can do this."
The drawing depicted a simple rocking bench adorned with vines and flowers. It was where Celeste's main characters fell in love.
"And my uncle can work on a few realistic modifications for the rest."
"You got yourself a deal," I said with a smile and held my hand for him to shake. "Welcome aboard. Honored to have you on our crew."
Finn accepted my handshake. "Honored to be here."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CELESTE
Lincoln and I decided to visit the Playhouse a few days before the rest of the cast to map out how we want our sets to appear on stage.
I spend an hour on my makeup before our meeting. Just the mirror and me. It was a meditation of sorts. The only meditation I experienced that breeds long-term results.
My makeup routine was sacred. The application process required consistent focus. Whenever I sat in front of my mirror and unloaded my supplies, I became grounded—in harmony with the present.
What I felt influenced which part of my face I emphasized. Tonight, I was hopeful. So, I mixed orange and red blush shades on my cheeks. I outlined my lips with my favorite brown and topped them off with clear gloss. My go-to getting-ready playlist filtered through my portable speakers. The playful hum of one of my favorite tracks,The Flower Garden, inspired a delicate floral pattern design on the corners of my eyes. It was more detail than I usually had energy for. But I knew I was seeing him. And I knew he'll notice. I want him to, and I didn’t consider that too much until I was behind the wheel.
I wanted someone to notice me. Not my music, me.
Not someone. Lincoln. Just Lincoln.
What did that mean for me? Most days, I felt so in touch with my feelings I might drown in them. Right now, I couldn't untangle a single thread of the knots in my belly.
