“No. I tried to give him sex advice, but he didn’t want it.”
She laughs.
“That’s a joke but also it’s not funny.” I rub the back of my neck. I tell her about Trev and his wrist injury and how I’ve been working with him after practices to try to help with his scoring drought. “He got a goal last night,” I add proudly.
“He did.”
“You were watching?”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, I was giving him advice about the surgery which apparently, he didn’t want.” I grimace.
“Ohhh.” Ayla regards me with those gorgeous dark-blue eyes, her expression soft and understanding. “You were trying to help.”
“Yeah. Ended up pissing him off. He complained to Benny, who talked to me. He said Trev felt like I was pressuring him to have the surgery.”
“He doesn’t want to?”
“He doesn’t want to be out for a few months when we’re in a playoff run.”
“Ah.”
“And that reminded me of what you said. How you felt pressured to move on after Kane died.”
She nods, her mouth full and soft.
“You said you felt like I was judging you.”
She gives a tiny nod and pushes her bangs out of her eyes.
“And I guess Trev felt like that, too. And I’m an idiot.”
One corner of her mouth tweaks up. “You’re not an idiot.”
The server brings our food. We both ordered omelets, which come with hash browns and toast. I dig into my western style. Ayla has spinach and feta cheese.
“So,” I continue the conversation, “the more I thought about it, I realized I needed to talk to Lenny.”
“That was brave of you.”
“Fuck, yeah.” I grimace. “But it wasn’t that I was afraid of talking to her. Okay, it was. But it was because I was going to have to admit I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“That’s how we learn. How did it go?”
“A lot better than I expected. I think she was surprised. I told her about us.” I pause. “She’s happy we’re trying to work things out.”
Ayla smiles.
“I told her the same things I told you… about when Dad died…”
She listens intently as she eats her omelet and I talk.
“I told her that I wanted to look after her and Viv and Mom. That I tried so hard. How I hated all the feelings I had after Dad died, and I just wanted to be strong. And I apologized for being too controlling. For embarrassing her in front of her friends. For being such an asshole, she ran away from home.” I look down at my plate, my back molars grinding together. “And then even more of an asshole when we found her.” I pull air into my lungs and let it out. “I think she understood.”
“That’s good.”
“She apologized, too.”
