Page 116 of She Wolf

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

“Come on, let me show you this.” We walk down the hall and turn into my room. What I’m looking for is folded up on the ottoman at the end of the bed where it always is.

“My mom made me this when I went into the juniors,” I say holding up the patchwork quilt. “I was on the road so often and had to stay away from home for long lengths of time.

She thought that if she made me this, I would always remember where I had come from, and where I was trying to get to. She said that it was little pieces of home and my past and that it held great memories.” He takes the folded material from me.

“Go ahead, shake it out,” I encourage. He grabs it by two of the corners and wafts it in the air. It doesn’t spread out very well because his arms are so short, so I help him the rest of the way.

“Wow! What is this?”

“It’s a quilt made up of all my old team and tournament shirts.”

His eyes widen and his mouth falls open. Recovering, he audibly gulps. “You cut up your jerseys?”

“No way. My mom’s notthatcrazy but these are the tees we had to wear. This one was from a tournament my hometown hosted when I was about your age. I didn’t play defense then—”

“You didn’t?” His eyes nearly bug out of his head.

“No. I was very fast and my coach at the time thought I’d be great on the wing. It didn’t work though because I filled out so much over the year, I lost the pace.”

“You’re fast now.”

“I am but I’m nowhere near as fast as I used to be. What I lacked in speed though I made up for in force and was moved back. Turns out it was always where I was meant to be.”

“What’s this one?” He points to the patch in the middle. “That’s from a Maple Leaf Classic I went to see when I was six. Mr. Johnson took me and I asked if I could spend my pocket money on the t-shirt but it was too cold to wear just that so I bought the t-shirt and Mr. J bought me the sweater. I wore both and the Leafs won. I kept the sweatshirt safe.”

“Did you know your mom was doing it?”

“No, it was a surprise.”

“It’s so cool,” he says following part of the stitching with his fingers.

“It really is. Anyway, I was going to let you borrow it. You can have it on your bed while you’re here.”

“I can? But this is so special to you.”

“It is but I think it would do better on your bed than folded up in here don’t you?”

He nods vehemently. “Thank you, Gunner.”

“You’re welcome, Jack,” I say kissing him on his head. “Now let’s get you to bed.” It feels right that he should have this little piece of me and my past.

He shoots off shouting for Coralie as he goes and tries to place the quilt as neatly as he can over his duvet—the royal blue trim standing out against the warm cream in here makes me think that I might need to decorate if this is exactly what I want the future to look like.

Coralie bustles in enthralled while Jack tells her the story of why my mom made it and where the t-shirts came from.

Kate appears at Jack’s door again just as he gets to the Maple Leafs part, her light brown eyes rimmed with red again.

This is not the summer she should be having at all. The only thing we can do now is make sure her last few weeks are everything they should be.

I don’t want her to forget about her mom but until she’s ready to help herself, she shouldn’t be dragging Kate down with her.

“So, first night. Are you feeling, okay?” Coralie turns around to ask her.

She nods and turns to me. “Your house is beautiful Gunner, thank you for letting me stay.”

“You’re welcome, Kate. Is there anything else you need?”

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