JAMIE
Before falling asleep,we lay in bed and check for open seats on Ethan’s flight back to Minneapolis tomorrow. Luckily, there are still a few middle seats left in economy, and I grab one. It won’t be the business class experience I had on the way out here, but something tells me I won’t care in the least.
As I’m booking the tickets, I briefly notice the red badges all over Ethan’s phone – calls, texts, and Instagram notifications so copious that most of the numbers are maxed out.
“Jesus. And I thought my notifications were a mess.”
He smirks at me.
“I’ll be honest, I haven’t really looked at, well, any of them. Just the group chat and a few from the boys. I figure the rest will still be there whenever I get around to them.”
“Are the guys being good? Supportive?” This is one of my biggest fears, that he’ll start getting pushback and decide that it isn’t worth it, that he made a mistake.
“The ones I’ve heard from have been. Mac and Lindy reachedout. Pretty sure Alexei is planning to take out a hit on anyone who says anything in the group chat, but I’m sure there are some who want to. I know there are a few who aren’t saying anything.”
As reassured as I am that he’s aware there will be people whodon’tsupport him, even those who are closest to him, I wish he didn’t have to deal with that, didn’t have to ever face that feeling. I turn on my side, resting my head on his shoulder and stretching my arm around him, trying to wrap him up safe and tight.
For a few minutes, we just lay there in silence. As happy as I am that we’re doing this thing, I can’t help but be deeply aware that it will probably hurt him in some ways.
“Do you…want me to look? Maybe get rid of anything you don’t really need to see?”
I worry about how he’ll take this – will he think thatIthink he isn’t strong enough? Iknowhe is – I just wish he didn’t have to be.
Instead, he heaves a sigh.
“Would you?” He looks like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.
I start with his text messages, happy to note that several teammates have continued to show support. There are even several from people he’s played with over the years, and a few from players on other teams. After checking them, I mark them as unread again.
“I’m leaving the ones I think you’ll appreciate, ok?”
He nods. As I scroll, I get to a name I know will hold nothing good. Marty Tremblay. Even without opening it, the preview shows exactly the type of filth I’m expecting. I take a deep breath.
“What is it?”
“Can I ask you a question? And can you take a minute before you answer, please?”
He nods, looking a little confused at the request.
“Why do you speak to your dad?”
He starts to speak, then remembers his promise to wait. He sits there, chewing his lip so aggressively I’m worried he’ll draw blood. Finally, he speaks.
“I guess because…I have to? Don’t I?”
The questioning look in his eyes tells me he’s not sure.
“Does he add anything to your life? Or does he only take?”
A look of realization dawns on his face, but I still see fear in his eyes.
“Could I…could I block him? Is that something I can do?”
I get the sense the question is not just one of technology.
“What are you worried will happen if you do?”
He reaches for me, and I go back to his arms.
