Page 116 of Home Ice

“I really wish she had too.” I let go of her hand and top up her tea, wondering what sort of relationship we have from here, but determined to do it. “Carly did a great job. Now it’s my turn. I love that kid so much, and I’m going to do everything I can for him. Including being supportive about him living here. And making sure he gets to play the sport he loves.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop being bitter about hockey.”

“Hopefully, you’ll give Kasen and me a chance to change your mind.”

She doesn’t agree, but then she doesn’t disagree either. So that’s something.

We make plans to sort everything out in more detail before I head back to St. Louis, and I leave her to clean up and show myself out.

Only I get as far as the front door before I hear something.

Coming from the hall.

I creep closer to a closed door that I swear I hear sobbing coming from and give it a soft tap.

“Ah … everything okay?”

I’m not expecting the door to fly open and be tackled by all one hundred and fifty pounds of teenage boy. It’s actually so unexpected that it takes me a second to work out that his arms are around me.

Kasen is … hugging me.

Fuck.

My eyes prickle as I hold his shaking body close, torn between my heart exploding that this is actually happening and worry over what the hell got him here.

“I … I miss her … so much,” he chokes out into my shoulder. The pain in his voice almost breaks me.

My swelling heart shatters into a million pieces, and I squeeze him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry.” I run my hand over his curls, lost and confused about what I’m supposed to do here, and desperately wanting to make everything better. My eyes are wet, and Kasen is soaking my shirt right through, and all I can do is hold him, and it doesn’t feel like enough.

“I wish she told you sooner too.”

His words make me freeze. “You were listening?”

“Why couldn’t you … be an asshole? Why … why didn’t you not try and fuck off back to St. Louis?”

“Because that’s not who I am.”

“I wanted to h-hate you. But now … I think I h-h-hate her … instead.”

And instead of that sending me sobbing with him, clarity seeps in. “No. You don’t.”

“But—”

“You’re allowed to be upset. But neither of us hate her. Loving her doesn’t hurt me. Like having a relationship with me isn’t betraying her.”

His crying deepens. He clings to me tighter.

And for the first time ever since meeting Kasen, we don’t feel like a work in progress.

We feel like we work.

I stay for longer than I’d planned to. Long after he’s calmed down, and I’m able to look around his room and piece together more of the things that make up who he is. Kasen lounges on his bed, watching me move through his space, and after a long stretch of silence between us, finally asks, “What was my mom like? In school?”

I pick up a picture of them together, and my lips tug into a smile. “You.”

“What?”

“She was like you. It used to scare me sometimes, how easily she’d win our arguments. She was the kind of person people gravitated to because she was smart without being cocky about it. She was confident without it being showy. And she was a genuinely nice person.”