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As awful as it was when he slipped away early in the morning the day after Faith and I got there, it was peaceful. All four of us were together and he went without pain. His suffering is over now.
I did my best to keep busy during the days that followed, because I’m not good at sitting around talking. Dad didn’t want a regular funeral service, so his body is being cremated and we’ll hold a celebration of life service for him in about a month. I cleaned out his closet and donated nearly all of his clothes to charity so Mom wouldn’t have to do it. Faith and I also went through the family photo albums and chose some pictures for the celebration of life service because we thought it might be painful for our mom.
The first day, I fielded phone calls on my parents’ landline. Friends, neighbors and former teammates’ of my dad kept the phone ringing off the hook. Some wanted to pass on their condolences briefly, but others fished for details and bent my ear with stories about their own ailments. I was glad when Faith offered to take over phone answering duty.
I turned my phone on a couple of times, but the amount of texts and phone messages from my own friends and teammates was overwhelming. And I never saw the one message I was hoping for—one from Reese.
She may know about my dad’s death. It’s been on the news. I feel bad she’d find out like that, but his turn for the worse came on fast. The doctors thought Dad would have at least another good month, my mom told me after he passed away.
As the waves of grief wash over me, Reese is the only person I want to be with. If I could just be with her, I wouldn’t even needs words of comfort. Her presence would be enough.
I hate that we fought. If I could do it over, I wouldn’t jump all over her about the New York job—wondering if she’s going to accept the job is killing me inside.
One of the team’s assistant coaches, Matt, picks me up from the airport.
“Hey, boss,” he says, giving me a hug. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Anton told me to ask if you want to talk about it or not.”
I sigh wearily. “You mean when we get to the arena? Not really.”
Matt claps me on the back. “Done. I’ll text and let him know. We’re all thinking of you, so that covers that. We’ll just focus on hockey tonight.”
“Dad would have wanted it that way,” I say, leaning back against the seat.
On the drive to the Boston team’s arena, Matt makes small talk about tonight’s game, not caring whether I answer him or not. It’s so damn nice to let go of the sadness over my dad for a little while. People don’t seem to realize how exhausting it is to listen to endless condolences when you’re not sleeping well and you just want to be alone with your family.
I’m half-listening to him and half thinking of Reese. This silence between us has gone on long enough. When Matt drops me off at the players’ entrance of the arena, I go inside and find a quiet corner, dialing Reese.
“Knox,” she says, sounding both surprised and relieved.
“Hi. Are you busy?”
“Not really, just…let me close the door to my office. I’m at work.” After a second, she says, “Okay…hi.”
“So…how are you?” I ask.
“How am I? Knox, you just lost your dad. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” I close my eyes and look down at the ground. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was sick, I just…there’s a lot we need to talk about, and I want to do it in person.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“Tomorrow’s an off day for me. Can I come over to your place?”
“Sure. I’m caught up here; I can get away for the afternoon. How about 1:00?”
There’s distance between us that wasn’t there before. Formality. And I hate it.
“Okay, I’ll see you then,” I say. “And, I miss you.”
After a pause, she says, “I miss you, too.”
It’s something. As our call ends and I find a security guard to let me into the visitor’s locker room, I feel a little lighter just from hearing her voice.
As I enter the locker room, most of the guys ignore me, which is fine by me. Some of them make eye contact and nod, which is all the acknowledgement of the situation I need.
“Glad you’re back,” Coach Johnson says when he walks by me.
“Me too.”
And I am. These guys are my crew. I can’t imagine another team ever feeling like the family I have in this locker room. Players come and go at times, but our core group has been the same for several years now.
In the back of my mind, though, I’ve started to think about whether I could get management to trade me to New York if Reese decides to move there. I don’t want to leave my team, but I don’t want to lose her, either.
