Molly waited until practice was well underway to come out from her hiding place and stand behind the boards. She couldn’t exactly report on the state of the Snow Pirate’s pre-playoff game if she was hiding in the locker room and not actually watching their pre-playoff game.
She wasn’t sure standing closer to the ice would help, considering her head was in the clouds, but it couldn’t hurt. She’d found a lump in her breast while showering a few days before. After a Google search, she’d learned that no matter what age you were, a lump of any kind needed to be checked out. Despite wanting to ignore it and pretend she hadn’t found it, she’d pulled on her Big Girl Pants and made the call.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket as Will ran puck control drills up and down the length of the ice. The little orange cones appeared haphazard, but by this stage, even Molly could have run the drills blindfolded – and she couldn’t skate for shit.
Everyone said Coach was a hard ass, relentlessly pushing the team to greatness, but Will was every bit as bad. His hunger for the cup drove everyone forward, not least of all himself.
Molly pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans to find a text from Mom.
Mom: I have a problem I’m not sure how to handle.
Molly’s stomach clenched. Was Mom sick? Was Gram sick? Had she finally snapped and killed Dad because of his shitty dad jokes and needed help burying the body? Why was her instinct to jump to worse case scenarios? She probably needed to unpack that with a therapist, but she wasn’t blind to the internal shift from zero-to-freak-out.
Molly: You still have a week to pick something up for Dad’s birthday. Just take him to that shitty place he loves to eat, buy him new socks, and call it good.
Mom: Finn’s mom just called.
Hell no. The woman had abandoned her grieving son. They had no space for someone like that in their lives. Sure, she’d gone to a mental health facility to get treatment, but once she’d come out the other side, recovered, she’d moved on with her life, and Finn hadn’t been in it.
Mrs. O’Brien had divorced Finn’s asshole dad, remarried, and had another child with the new man – but she hadn’t made an effort to reconnect with Finn.
Molly: What did she want?
Molly needed to run interference on whatever shitstorm was brewing for Finn. Or at the very least head the woman off at the pass until March. March was a new month, a better month, a month where Finn wasn’t beaten to shit by grief, or something else, something heavier.
Molly had always suspected Finn blamed himself for Liam’s death but they’d never talked about the details. She’d never wanted to press him for information that clearly pained him to think about.
Molly: Reconciliation?
Mom: I think so. I got the impression she might need something from him too, though. She asked for his cell number.
Molly groaned. Mom wasn’t an idiot, she knew Finn’s wishes and wouldn’t just hand out his digits like they were candy at Halloween. But by the same token, she was also a mother, and perhaps Finn’s mom had tugged at her bleeding mom-heart.
Molly was halfway through typing “Please don’t tell me you gave it to her,” when another message came through.
Mom: Didn’t give it to her. I took her number though, just in case he wants to call her.
Mom: You know Finn better than I do. Do you think he’d be open to hearing from her? She seemed insistent that it was important.
Would he? For all his anger and resentment toward his past, deep inside, Finn was still just a little boy aching for the love of his parents. He probably would be open to talking to her, especially since it sounded urgent.
Molly: I’ll handle it.
Mom: I don’t mind approaching him about it if you don’t want to break the news, but it’s so sensitive and I don’t want to upset him. (We both know it’ll upset him anyway.)
Molly smiled. Finn was like the youngest of the family. The one who got away with just about everything because his older siblings had already put their parents through their paces. Mom made a point of nurturing Finn in a way she didn’t with Molly or Will. It was as though she made a concerted effort to ensure Finn always knewsomeoneloved him, even if he didn’t think his own family did anymore.
“You’re still here?” Will’s voice made her jump. Sweat dripped into his eyes from his floppy hair.
She tucked her phone in her pocket. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about Dad’s birthday.” She hoped she was convincing. That wasn’t why she’d stayed, but if he bought it, it didn’t matter.
Will nodded. “I was thinking we’d take him for dinner at that place he likes.”
Molly laughed. “That’s what I told Mom to do.”
Finn appeared over Will’s shoulder and her cheeks flared. “What about sending him for a racing experience? One of those track things?”
Her heart swelled. Her dad was a motorsport fan and loved anything with an engine and wheels. It was a great idea, though Mom would probably object to letting him behind the wheel of something so speedy.
