Page 69 of Out Of Time

He didn’t have it in him to tell his father that he hadn’t lived his life in the present anyway. He thought of his sterile, pictureless home, and the relationships he had denied himself,with teammates, friends, and women, and how he hid from them all until he met Remi. He thought about the ocean, mere feet away from his back door, and how he had taken it for granted, until now. He thought about each sunset he closed the curtains on, and each sunrise he slept through.

He thought about the Cup, and how if he held it now, before things got too bad, he might be able to see the flash of the lights against the crisp, clean silver and how he might still be able to make out the names of the men who came before him. He knew he had to be honest with his team, even if it broke his heart, even if it broketheirs. He knew the only way they would have a chance at the Cup was by him walking away from it.

Max looked at his father and noticed the gentle line on his brow, Max had that line too. He noticed the way he seemed okay, relaxed, happy even, surrounded by his wife and his rescue dogs in his comfortable home, with his mobility cane close by.

Was there a life after hockey?

Yes.

Was there a happy life after hockey?

He looked over at Remi and she gave him a simple smile, her single dimple a reminder of the first time he met her, stumbling over his own two feet, breaking the lamp; the writing was on the wall. It had been for a while now. The wheels were in motion long before he accepted it. And like his father, he had chalked up his condition to anything else: anxiety, low blood sugar, not enough sleep. But it was time to face the music. It was time to see it for what it was, no pun intended. He needed to talk to the right doctors, get the diagnosis on paper, and take his first step toward helping his team win the Cup without his skates, pads, or his custom mask and stick. Without him in front of the net.

“Thank you,” Max finally said. “I know this hasn’t been easy for either of us.”

“It hasn’t been, but maybe we can try our hand at this whole relationship thing over time. I know I won’t ever be a father in your eyes, but maybe I can be a friend, and a sounding board as you navigate this new way of life.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Max said, and he wasn’t being cruel, he just wasn’t sure he could commit to anything with this man just yet. Not now. Not when he had so much to unpack that didn’t involve long-lost parents and emotional voids he carried since childhood.

“That’s more than I can ask for,” his father agreed.

Nancy appeared as if on cue. “Should I see them out?” she asked knowingly.

“Yeah, Nance, I think we’re done here.”

“Bye, Jim,” Remi offered, “thanks again.” He didn’t say anything in return, he just gave her a nod before they turned to leave the cramped kitchen.

The sun was long gone when they got out to the car.

“Thanks for driving, Rem.”

She leaned in and kissed his cheek

“I don’t mind driving, you know that.”

“I know. But while it’s just me asking you to drive at night for now, there will be so much more that I’ll have to ask of you later,” he warned.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to hold you back,” he said quietly.

She pulled him in to kiss her, a kiss fueled by reassurance, leaving no room for doubt in the way her lips praised his.

“The only way you’re holding me back is by not getting in the car fast enough. I need a donut and the beach, and I need you, as you are, as you will be, no matter what, Max Miller.”

“Yes… to everything,” he said.

“Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes. Now get in the car right meow.”

Max sat in the locker room with his head down. If he didn't look at them, they wouldn't be able to see that he was hiding something. If he didn't look at his teammates, he wouldn't have to accept the fact that they looked blurry from across the locker room.

It was getting worse.

Each day.

Each minute.

The clock was ticking down to the moment he was exposed. His truths laid out bare, one loss at a time, one tally mark at a time, one bad save, one last fumble.

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