Page 129 of Keeping the Score

“Be the shark,” she whispers.

Yeah.

Later, after we’ve opened all the presents, eaten Christmas dinner, and Mom and Dad are playing with Tilly, I go up to the rooftop. I’ve been getting back to meditation and it’s a good thing. My stress and anxiety and negative thoughts were spiraling, which is understandable, given everything that’s been going on, but not as much as it could have.

What’s helped? My trust in Andi. I trust her to be there for me. That’s huge in quieting my anxiety.

But meditation is always good, and part of it is thinking about my goals and how I feel about them. Things have changed. How do I feel about my goals now? I still have hockey goals and I’m still determined to be the best I can be. But I also know that it won’t be the end of the world if I don’t achieve them. Because my other goals—to be a good father, a good partner to Andi, a good friend and teammate—are more important. And I can succeed in more ways than just playing the most games or stopping the most pucks.

Becoming a father has brought out a better version of myself. A version of me I didn’t even know existed. I still work hard. Butnow I love even harder. I never knew love could feel like this… like the whole world is clutched in Tilly’s tiny fist. You don’t know what this type of love is before you have kids—and you’re not meant to.

I never knew love could feel like what I feel for Andi. She, too, has also brought out a better version of me. The love I feel for her is different but just as powerful. I never thought anyone would love someone as screwed up as me. And yet she does. I want to live up to her love and trust and faith in me and be the man who deserves that. Because her love is everything to me.

Andi once asked me if I believe in soulmates. I told her I believed in them for other people because my soul is freaky. But I’ve found someone who loves my freak. Is that a soulmate? There’s always been a sense of connection with Andi. It wasn’t love at first sight; she was married. There was a physical attraction, yes. But as I got to know her better, she challenged me. She asked me questions about things I didn’t want to talk about. The parts of me that are hurt and hidden. And when I talked about those things, she understood.

I’ve always felt like I’m on a journey. Becoming a father changed that journey. I feel like Andi is a partner on the journey. And I know I don’t want to do it without her.

EPILOGUE

ANDI

August

The heat and humidity have been stifling all day. The overcast sky is gloomy. But it’s not dampening the mood of our housewarming party.

We’re in the back yard of our new house, which we moved into last month. It’s a beautiful space, with a stone patio, flowerbeds full of perennials, and lots of comfortable chairs. Ford is over starting the barbecue, talking to Marek and Ben. More of their teammates are by the cooler. My parents and Ford’s parents are seated around a table, talking away.

“Mama!” Tilly comes running across the patio, her steps still a little choppy. “Mama!”

When she first started calling me that, I thought my heart would burst. And I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Ford and I talked about it. Of course she sees me as her mother, even though we’ve told her about Willa. We’ve told her how much Willa loved her. She’s still pretty young to understand all that, though.

I crouch down to her level. “What, honey bun?”

“Kiki.” She gestures.

“What’s wrong with Kiki?”

“Baba ga met buh.” She points, her expression serious.

“Oh.” I have no idea what she’s saying. At fifteen months old, she talks up a storm with facial expressions and gestures and we have entire conversations. She seems to know exactly what she’s saying, even if nobody else does. It’s adorable.

“Pay,” she says, frowning.

“You want to play with Kiki?”

“Yuh!”

“Okay, where is she?” I take her hand.

At that moment, Kiki appears, gamboling across the patio toward us. We just got her a few weeks ago from Bright Side, where I still volunteer. She’s a mix of something with a lot of Australian Shepherd so I fell in love with her. She’s a year old, so she’s still very puppyish.

Chasing her are Cain and Alec, Holly and Turks’ two boys. And behind them is Elodie, looking frazzled.

“Kiki!” I crouch again and she runs to me. She’s so pretty. I give her a rub. “Good girl.”

“Googrrr,” Tilly repeats.

“Yeah, that’s it. Can you say dog?”

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