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“Raven needs medical attention from being outside and away from their mom, but the flying tackle didn’t hurt them,” I assure him, squeezing his leg.
“Raven?”
“It’s a gender-neutral name, and Raven seems perfect for a flying black cat. They’re wily and didn’t want to let go of me. Poor baby was terrified.”
“Hmmm.” Sky bites his bottom lip in his thinking pose.
“What?”
“You left your game, your team, to come home,” he says with genuine awe.
I lift my head, bewildered by his confusion. “You were missing and in trouble. There’s nowhere else I’d be.”
“Doing your job and telling someone qualified, the police are an excellent choice,” he says with flailing arms.
The movement shifts the IV, and I slide into bed with him. “Believe me, LA took the brunt of my frustration. But I couldn’t think about hockey after you typed kiwi.” I slot myself sideways next to him, careful of the tubes. “I’m never leaving you again.” Skin-to-skin contact will be the only thing to satisfy my nerves. Stupid hospital.
“Never seems extreme.” He fights a smile.
“Nope. Perfectly reasonable. I can shoot videos with you, quit hockey, and we can be together all day, every day.” I sound insane and should keep my mouth shut, or I’ll be on the receiving end of a psych eval.
“You’d last a week.” He chuckles.
“Excuse me! You doubt me?” I sift through his hair.
“I don’t doubt your intention, but you caged in a house for long periods of time with no physical outlet? You’d lose it.”
“You could teach me your dance moves. I’ll work up a big sweat.”
His lips turn up as he glances at me from under his lashes, and I brace for his sarcasm.
“What will get you sweating?” My mom looms in the doorway, her face pinched.
My first instinct is to leap out of bed, but I’m not making her comfortable at Sky’s expense anymore. “Dancing,” I answer.
“Less dangerous,” she says neutrally, and takes my seat. “Sky, are you okay? When I saw the news, I jumped on the first plane to get here.”
“The news?” Sky squeaks.
“The bodycam footage was on the national news.”
“Mom, if you’re here to bully Sky into denying our relationship, you can go home,” I warn.
She hangs her head. “I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done to hurt you. I wanted you to have the best life possible.”
“The life you planned for me, not what I wanted,” I retort. Even though she’s clearly trying, my anger takes over.
“You’re right. I talked to our pastor regarding my dilemma.”
I snort, shifting better to see her.
“He said some enlightening things. He asked me if I preferred a fractured family and an absent son over accepting who he loves. I thought I was living by the Church’s teachings, but he said the Church never shuns love. Love is meant to be celebrated, not denied. I’m trying to reframe a lifetime of prejudice. I can’t claim to be reformed, but I’m working on it.”
“Thank you,” Sky whispers. He’s more compassionate than I am, but we can discuss it later.
My mother stands and leans over to hug Sky. “After watching you tackle that guy to prevent him from getting to my son, I know how wrong I was.” She wipes the tears from her face. “When can you go home?”
It’s unrealistic to expect her to change overnight, but she seems genuine and I appreciate that.
