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“I graduated with a degree. I’m on track with hockey. What are you worried about?”
She stops walking, which forces me to stop as well. She glances around, checking to see if anyone is listening, but they’re all busy hugging and chatting. “You’re still seeing that woman.” It’s a statement.
“Why does it matter?”
She pokes at her cheek with her tongue. “I don’t want you to make life-altering decisions influenced by someone you’ve never formally introduced to us.”
“Is that you asking to meet her?”
“Has she managed to get the divorce papers signed yet? What about the husband? Have you seen him around?”
A week and a half ago, I started to suspect that he may have switched cars from the black BMW to a blue Kia. I can’t prove that it’s him because the windows are tinted and always rolled up, but I’ve taken down the license plate and I’ve seen it a few times. Unfortunately, there are two other blue Kias in the neighborhood, also with tinted windows, belonging to students. Now I see blue Kias everywhere, and I’m forever checking the license plates. So is Clover. But I’m not telling Mom that.
“I don’t think anything I say right now is going to make you happy, and you need to focus your energy on Lavender and getting her on a plane to New York. Your issues with my life choices are still going to be here after you’ve dropped her off.”
“Don’t think I won’t corner you when I get the chance.”
“I know you will.” I kiss her on top of the head. “I love you, and I know you love me back, and that’s why you’re being overbearing. I’m an adult. I can make adult decisions. You’re emotional because your baby girl is about to spread her wings and fly. This conversation can wait until another day when your feelings aren’t on fire.”
She huffs, likely aware that I’m right. “I love you too. All of my gray hairs came from you.” I know she’s joking, and she doesn’t mean it the way I’ve taken it, but the sting is still there.
“I know.” I smile, but it feels stiff. “I’m sorry for that. I’m trying my best to atone for my mistakes, but I don’t always get it right.”
“Vi, honey, we need to get going so the kids have lots of time to get checked in,” Dad calls.
She frowns. “What did you just say?”
“I’m sorry about the gray hairs. Come on, everyone’s waiting on you.” I guide her over to the Bowman’s massive SUV and help her into the passenger side. My dad and Rook are up front, the moms are in the middle and Kody and Lavender are in the back. I step back as Kody’s dad pulls out of the spot. Lavender waves, grinning like she’s won the lottery, and Kody looks somewhere between excited and like he wants to vomit. I keep waving as they pull away, but I don’t love the concerned expression my mom continues to wear.
I thought Clover and I had gotten over our biggest hurdles, but maybe I’m wrong.
Twenty minutes later, I make a left down my street and notice the blue Kia parked halfway down the block. My brother’s car isn’t in the driveway, but Lavender’s is, and that’s where it will stay until she comes back at the end of summer.
River has a job at a sporting goods store, and he’s planning to stay in the city since Josiah has a job here too. It seems like our house is destined to be empty a good part of the summer, seeing as I plan to spend my nights in Clover’s bed, at least until her lease is up at the end of July.
I drive past my house and slow as I approach the blue Kia on the other side of the road. I grab my phone, roll down my window, and hit the brakes, snapping a picture and making sure I have the license plate and the house number in the background before I keep going.
For the very first time since this thing with Clover started, I don’t circle the block and leave my truck at my place. Instead, I pull into her driveway. And I don’t walk around back to the sliding glass door. I walk up the front steps and knock.
It swings open a moment later. She’s no longer wearing the dress and cardigan ensemble she had on earlier. Instead, she’s in a pair of black skinny jeans and one of my old school T-shirts, from freshman year, before I packed on another forty pounds of muscle. I was going to donate it to the Salvation Army when I cleaned out my closet a month ago, but Clover saw the bag in the back seat of the truck and snagged it for herself.
“Hello, graduate.” She’s holding two champagne flutes in her hands and a bottle of bubbly.
“Hello, girlfriend.” I step inside, take her face between my hands, and dip to brush my lips over hers. “I’m not planning to need a glass, but it’s cute that you thought we might be civilized enough to use them tonight.”
* * *
Once school has officially concludedfor both of us, there’s a tangible shift in my relationship with Clover. While we still don’t frequent restaurants inside the college catchment area, we’ve stopped driving way outside the city. Sometimes I’ll leave my truck at my place, but if I have an early shift at the gym, I park in her driveway.
And every time I see that blue Kia, I take a picture. Even as June grows hotter, the windows remain rolled up so I can’t see inside, but at this point, I’m positive it’s Gabriel. He stays away from Clover, as per the order of protection that was filed shortly after her contract with the university ended, but I worry that he’s on the edge of too close.
She and I have fallen into a routine of domestic comfort. Her lease is up at the end of July and Clover plans to move to her cabin in Pearl Bay. She’s secured a position at the local library on the outskirts of Lake Geneva.
Our relationship feels more solid and stable than ever, but with the new draft class and contract talks hanging over my head, the nightmares have been ramping up, right along with my anxiety levels.
My dad has taken to calling every other day to check in. I should want to practice. I should want to know what my agent is saying, whether they think I’m NHL ready, or if I’ll be sent to an AHL affiliate. But the more I talk about it, the more stressed I get.
“Are you okay, son? Why don’t you come visit for a couple of days and we can follow the draft together, get ready for the contract deadlines, hear what your agent has to say? I’ll book us some ice time. We can shoot the puck around.”
