Page 81 of Keeping Score

I’d been skating at the local pond by myself and fell through a patch of thin ice. Ironic for a hockey player, I know, but that’s how it happened.

I’d loved the ice in a way that none of my family did, and sometimes I just went out there to be on my own. The house could get hectic with a bunch of sisters and two loud and bold parents filling up all that space.

With a house that full, it was easy for me to just slip away unnoticed. And I needed the quiet sometimes. To think about my own thoughts and figure shit out.

When I was around too many people, it was too easy to let myself get swept away. I was the kid who made people laugh. The one who lightened the mood when life got too heavy. And I was good at it.

But sometimes, it just felt like a role I played. When I came to skate, I sort of got to figure out who I was. What I loved to do. Without pressure from anyone to be anything different than what I was.

If I’d told my mom where I was going, it wouldn’t be mine anymore. It would be another thing I had to share with my sisters.

I wanted this time for me, so I never told my mom where I was going. But when I fell through that patch of ice, I regretted not sharing it more than anything. Not telling anyone about my dreams.

It was cold, but that wasn’t even the worst part. No, the frigid temperature numbed me until it nearly burned.

What was worse was the panic. The helplessness. When you fall through the ice, no one tells you about how the current moves you until you’re so far from where you fell in, you can’t even find the opening above you anymore.

I was flailing under the water, losing my goddamn mind as I slammed against a layer of ice thicker than concrete, and I remember thinking, No one knows I’m here. I’m all alone. No one is coming to save me.

But, you know what?

I’d been a goddamn idiot, because it turned out they knew the whole time. That’s what they told me after.

Because my dad came out running just a minute after I fell through. He shoved a branch through the hole I’d made, and I latched onto it with the last of the life I had in me.

My sister Tara had been there too, standing behind him, crying. I guess someone always came to watch me skate, but no one ever told me.

They thought I was embarrassed about it or something. Said they didn’t want to discourage me from something I loved.

After that, I never lied to my family again. Sure, they could be annoying and overbearing. Sometimes they were loud. Sometimes I could get lost in the role of brother or son or jokester. But they loved me. And I loved them.

I could put aside the rest.

But the pain, the terror from falling through the ice that day? I never forgot that moment. And I never thought I’d ever feel a bone-deep ache like that again.

But I’d been wrong.

Because this? It was a thousand times worse.

“She said no?” Cassie asked, covering her mouth to stifle a gasp. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty damn sure,” I muttered, letting my head drop into my arms as I leaned over their countertop. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Maybe we should move this conversation to the bathroom, then?” Liam muttered, flipping a pancake.

“Be more sensitive, Liam,” Cassie scolded.

“Yeah,” I said, head still down on the counter. “Listen to your wife.”

“What?” I heard Liam say. “I’m just saying better be sick there than the place our daughter is eating breakfast.”

I turned my head sideways on the smooth countertop to peek at Lily sitting beside me.

“Want some pancakes, Uncle Brody?” she smiled, face streaked with syrup as she held a forkful up to my mouth.

I groaned and turned my head back face-down.

“It’s okay, Lil,” Cassie said. “Uncle Brody’s not feeling well right now.”