Page 5 of Josh’s Play

“Now, I didn’t say all that. There’s a Hockey House, you say?” She lowered my leg and tapped my shoulder. I had been trained over the past few weeks to rise slowly.

“That’s what we call it. It’s just a couple of the guys from the team. We all live together in a group house. Over on Windmill, past the Hughes Terrace apartment complex. When it’s not hockey season, you can basically assume there will be a party on Saturday nights. We always have a keg and the grill going. I’d … It’d be cool if you came.”

“The Hockey House, creative.”

By this point in my recovery, I knew the drill. I was leaning down and slipping my sneakers back on, ready for my meander on the treadmill. I looked up, smile at the ready again, but caught Josh’s gaze on me before I even got to Diane. He was unabashedly staring, and it sent shockwaves through me in a way Diane’s hands all over me never did.

He was resting on his elbow again, our eyes locked in a clear communication that I couldn’t stop while his physical therapist delicately poked at his hand. He winced and looked down at it, ending our staring contest. I stood and let Diane lead me past him, to the treadmill.

As if I had no free will of my own, I paused at the table, placing a gentle hand on Josh’s shoulder. “You alright there, Frankenstein?” He smiled up at me with his whole face as if he hadn’t just been wincing in pain, those blue eyes dancing under the too-bright fluorescent lights that should have given the room an air of harshness but instead just lit him up like a fucking angel.

“Still just a little raw. Everyone promises me I’m healing, though. I should have these fuckers out soon. Right?” he asked the woman currently wiggling his finger, and she nodded curtly.

I was on the treadmill walking, walking, for God’s sake, at an excruciatingly slow pace, when Josh passed by, waving his now re-bandaged hand at me, and smiling that smile.

I tried for a casual up nod. “See ya, Frankenstein.”

“Good luck with the walking.” He cracked another smile as he left the room, a smile that felt like it was cracking my heart open.

Chapter Three

Josh

If I’d had two functioning hands, I would have looked up Campbell Ryan on the hockey team’s website without delay. As it was, my hand was throbbing, and all I wanted to do was get home, prop it up on a pillow, and watch a brainless movie or two.

I kicked my shoes off in the foyer, then collected up a can of soda, a bag of chips, the TV remote, and three throw pillows. They were all arduous tasks. Most of my tasks were, but I tried not to complain, thinking about Vera tumbling around in the waves. I would have been terrified. My niece, of course, took it all in stride, only upset at the drama my broken finger caused after the incident.

My phone rang at the same time the front door opened.

“Shoes in the closet!” my mom yelled as I picked up the phone.

“Hi there, Vee, how’s camp going?”

My mom and Hunter entered the room. Mom was glowering, but I held up my hand, at the same time saying, “Hey, Vee, I’m gonna put you on speaker. Grandma Nat just walked in with Uncle Hunter.”

Hunter, still dressed for his game, dropped to the coffee table and massaged his pitching shoulder with his other hand.

Without missing a beat, Vera continued to explain about how lunch worked at camp. Also without missing a beat, Mom’s scowl turned into a smile. She waited for a brief pause, usually the only kind one got when talking to Vera. “What activities are you doing? Did you get to swim? What about arts and crafts?”

Vera was off again, describing her day. I could hear my brother in the background, and Vera paused. “How’s your finger, Uncle Joshy?”

“It’s doing great, little one. I got it checked out today, and everything is healing nicely. Nothing to worry about,” I said loudly enough that hopefully her father could hear me in the background.

“Grandma, I want pizza, but Daddy says he already cooked …” Vera was off, and my mother commandeered my phone to talk to her granddaughter.

Quietly to me she whispered, “You could at least kick your shoes off into the closet.” I held my hand up as if to say, no, I can’t. Her face called bullshit, and we both knew I would do just that next time.

“How was your game?” I spoke softly as Mom and Vera continued their conversation. Mom took my phone over to the reading nook on the far side of the room so Hunter and I could talk more naturally.

“Good, we were leading, so Coach only let me pitch three innings.”

Watching him massage his shoulder, I responded critically, “Maybe that was a good thing?”

“I’m fine. I’m gonna shower up, then head over to the gym to use the hot tub. I take care of myself, Josh! Travel ball is fun and all, but I’m a junior this year. The scouts weren’t watching me today, but Coach thinks they might be once school starts. Matt says he’s sure of it too,” Hunter ended softly, his eyes to the floor.

Matt was the director of a baseball camp where Hunter had spent time over the past few summers and a trusted mentor.

“It’s fucking crazy, dude. I remember when we were kids, and you started playing; now you’re talking about the fucking major leagues.”