Motherfuck. I felt like a kid about to get spanked, and not in the fun way Vanya had teased me about at that chicken restaurant.
But I knew I deserved it. This was my job. I was supposed to be compartmentalizing all my bullshit so I didn’t take the team down with me, because no matter how good our offense was, if I was shitting the bed in the crease, we were cooked.
Deep fucking fried.
I hated walking down the corridor without a guide or my cane. My goalie stick was too short, andmy pads were clunky as fuck, but I made it into the locker room without incident. I could hear a couple of the guys chatting, but they got quiet when they realized it was me who’d come into the room.
Most of them knew better than to bother me when I was in a mood, and unfortunately, I wasn’t any happier this season than last.
I knew at some point, I needed to stop being the team dickhead, but right now, it was creating a circle of space that I needed. Leaning back against my stall, I unstrapped and peeled away my pads, then my sweater, then my shorts. Piece by piece, I unwound from my gear until I was sitting on the bench in my jock with my butt cheeks cooled by the polished wood.
“Yo, Adams…”
I bristled but tried not to snap when I turned my head. It was Gavin, the rookie forward with RP, who’d just been picked up from his community league in Ottawa. He reminded me a lot of Tiago, with less of an accent and currently more vision.
“What’s up?”
“Do you think you’d be willing to run some drills with me later today? My slapshot is weak, and it’s killing me out there.”
I wanted to say yes. I would have given anything to say yes, even though the last place I wanted to be was back on the ice. But the alternative was hopping in the car Jonah had called for me and taking the drive all the way out to the whatever Meadows place my dad was staying at.
I’d been putting it off for months, but he was starting to decline pretty fast, and I knew deep down I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t go see him at least once before he passed.
And today was the day.
“Sorry, bud. I would if I could, but I have a fuck-ass appointment, and my car’s going to be here in half an hour.”
The bench squeaked as he sat down beside me and nudged my knee with his. “No worries. You okay? You seem a little…”
“Don’t say it,” I begged.
He laughed, and for some reason, that made me feel a little better. “Yeah, alright. But why don’t we grab a bite after the game tomorrow. You’re the only one I haven’t been able to bully into a beer.”
“I don’t drink. But if you buy me fried mushrooms, I’ll probably give you my undying loyalty.”
He laughed again and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll drive.”
Freezing, I turned my face toward him. “You’re joking, right? I let Tiago drive me around right before he had to give up his license, and we almost fucking died.”
“Tiago Nadeau? From the Legends?” Gavin asked.
“That’s the one.”
He snorted. “My sight’s better, but I actually never got my license. I was diagnosed when I was eight, and my parents thought it would be too cruelto let me drive for a little while, only to have it ripped away from me.”
“That’s…” I didn’t really know what to say to that. If my mom could have gotten away with it without having someone call CPS, she would have put all three of us behind the wheel and plastered the videos all over YouTube.
“Anyway,” Gavin said, saving me from another awkward moment, “the ride will still be on me. My sister and her wife are coming to the game, and they always drag me to the lesbian bar over on Fifth. It’s a great atmosphere but basically useless for me.”
I snorted. “As long as they have good food, I’m in.”
He shook me gently, then let go as I leaned back for my pile of clothes and cane, and then I made my way to the showers, doing everything I could to keep my mind on the game tomorrow and off everything else that was threatening to choke the life out of me.
I wasn’t quite asleep, but I wasn’t fully awake when the car rolled to a stop in front of the facility my dad was now living in. It was in the perfect halfway spot between Salem and Boston, so the drive wasn’t annoyingly long.
In fact, it wasn’t long enough.
As I grabbed my cane and phone, I felt an uncomfortable sensation crawling up my spine. I needed more time to deal with this, damn it. I wasn’t ready. Itwas so much more than just seeing my dad in this state. It was knowing that there was zero point in trying to get accountability out of him anymore. The disease had robbed him of his memories, and now it was robbing him of himself.
