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We get closer to her car, she unlocks the door, and we climb in. Her scent permeates the car’s interior, and after putting on my seatbelt, I cozy into the soft leather and exhale. I did it.
My mom drives a white Volvo, it’s very clean. She starts the car and the radio plays, and she’s listening to the same station I had on in my car. I turn my head to glance at her again, and she’s beaming as she continues to wipe away stray tears. It’s been so long, it’s hard for me to not stare. She keeps looking at me too. We’re on our way home. Together.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I just knew.” She smiles.
EIGHT
At thirty-one, I’m certainly on the older side of the sport. I’ve been doing blue-line shuffles and wall-retrieval drills for the last hour, and my knees are feeling it. This is one of the most demanding sports out there. These days, my joints practically pop and click just from ripping ass. Although we’re generally smaller than football players, the hits we take are more brutal. My body aches, and I already know I’ll need to up my physical therapy. We’re having a decent year, but every game counts, so we all need to be playing at our best. The pressure to succeed can be overwhelming, and we have a lot of work to do if we want a shot at playoffs in the spring.
Another half hour of individualized drills with the defense coaches and I’ll be able to go home. We wrap up on the ice and head back to the locker room. I yank off my gear, hit the showers, and go over everything my trainers say I need to improve upon. The older I get, the harder it is for me to play better than the year before. But my conditioning plan is primarily minor tweaks.
While zipping up my bag, I grab my jacket and dig my phone out of my pocket to check for messages. I’m supposed to be getting a call to schedule a sports massage. When I unlock my phone, there are seven missed calls from Jack. Blood drains from my face.
What happened?
I call him back. While the phone rings, my mind strays to the worst possibilities. Is someone hurt? Did something happen to Lori or Ken? Was there a car accident? Is it Audrey? Are Maddie and Liam okay? I break into a sprint to get to my car as quickly as I can, knowing I might need to meet him at a hospital.
No answer. I call again.
Finally, he answers.
“Dude! Where have you been?” he yells so loud I have to jerk the phone away from my ear.
“The fuck, man? Is everybody okay? I’ve got seven missed calls from you. What the hell is going on?”
“I’ve got some news, Burke,” he chokes out.
Oh my God, somebody died.
He was trying to get ahold of me, and I didn’t have my phone on me. I’ll never forgive myself for this. When I reach my car and start it, my phone connects to the Bluetooth. His voice plays on the car speakers, but during the connection, I missed the last thing he said.
“What? What is it? Do I need to meet you somewhere?”
“Are you sitting down?”
“Damn it, Jack! Yes. What happened? You’re freaking me out—”
“It’s Birdie.”
My heart drops.Please don’t say they found her body, don’t say they found her body.A wave of nausea hits me, and I grab the handle, ready to open the door.
“She’s here!”
I pick up on the inflection in his voice. He’s... ecstatic.It can’t be.
“A-alive?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for the worst.
“Alive.”
My eyes fly back open, and I’m stunned into silence.
“We’re still making sure everything’s legit. I’m on my way over to Mom and Dad’s right now to see her. Dad said she’s been living in Vancouver. Police want to do a paternity test—I’ll let you know as soon as I know for sure.”
NINE
