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A camera captures Blake and Katleen whispering something to each other. The captain of the NY Monarchs has tears glistening in his eyes. This even makes Blake cry.
Evan’s mom comes back into the frame. “Your dad would be so proud of you.” she keeps saying.
I can’t see Evan’s face from this camera angle. It’s nice that the two of them have this moment to themselves.
The moderator talks about Evan’s dad, who was a famous college coach and brought many celebrities onto the ice from there. He’s a hockey legend, and now his son is following in his footsteps. No, he’s surpassing him.
My phone vibrates, and I reach for it. “Hey, Dad.”
“Are you watching right now?” he asks me.
“Yeah. Ricky and Carly are here.”
He lets out a sound of approval. He’s been back at the farm for a few days, renovating the attached apartment there so he can move in after the sale. “Good. I wanted to say congratulations. Please pass them along to Evan.”
“All right, Dad, I’ll do that.”
He mumbles to himself again. “And I wanted to see if you’re doing okay.”
“Oh.” His concern touches me. “Of course. My arm is healing as it should, and my head is practically as good as new. The doctors are pleased with me.”
“Ah, no, that’s not what I mean.” He clears his throat. “Actually, you should be out on the ice right now.”
Oh, Dad. “Right. That . . . ”
“I don’t want to tell you what to do, son. I just wanted to tell you. Okay? I’m proud of everything you’ve accomplished. You’re not dependent on . . . ” His words fade into a mumble again.
“Thanks, Dad, for saying that. Sometimes . . . ” I’ve never even told Carly and Ricky what I want to say. With them standing next to me, I am self-conscious. “Sometimes, amid all the hockey hustle and bustle, one does lose sight of oneself a little. But I didn’t want to go today. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable with my arm and everything so soon after the accident.”
“Ah. Okay. Evan may have won the Cup, but he shouldn’t forget that you’re the grand prize.”
I swallow hard to get rid of the lump in my throat. “I’ll remind him of that.”
My dad mumbles to himself again. “Good. Do that. I’m going to check on the chickens one more time before I go to bed.”
“All right, Dad, and thanks. I love you.”
“I love you too, son. Take care.”
As I hang up, Carly and Ricky lean in close to me. “And don’t forget that you always have us,” Ricky emphasizes.
“Without you guys, I’d have gone to the dogs already,” I manage to say.
As much as my injured arm will allow, they huddle around me in the middle. Evan is on the screen in front of me, and my heart is full of warmth. Everything’s going to be okay.
The next morning, I roll over, and Evan is lying next to me in bed.
His scruffy beard has turned into a monster by now. But it’s also nice and soft.
Evan doesn’t move. He’s out cold. I reach for my phone. Nine o’clock. Wow, I must have been really tired.
As quietly as possible, so as not to wake him, I crawl out of bed, go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and sneak back to him.
On my reading app, I continue reading the book I started in the hospital. That’s the only upside to this whole mess. I’m getting back into reading.
After another hour, Evan stirs, and I put my phone away.
He presses himself against me without opening his eyes. I stretch out my arm, and he rests his head on my stomach. Finally, I get to play with his beard again. I run my fingers through the thicket. “Congratulations, champ.” With my injured arm stretched out to the side, I manage to kiss Evan on the forehead.
