Page 90 of Facing the Line

“Hey, Mom, how are you feeling?” Hadley asks as she opens the door, injecting a note of sympathy into her voice.

“I can’t get comfortable.” Marissa frowns, trying to fix a pillow in the mound behind her.

“Here, let me get that.” I rush to help. “You have to be careful twisting like that, it could hurt your abs.”

“Everything hurts my abs,” she mutters, lines of pain crossing her forehead. “This better be worth it.”

I don’t know much about elective cosmetic surgery; that’s not something I’ve covered in clinicals yet. It’s probably not where I’d want to work, but I smooth my features and nod.

“I’m sure it will be. Recovery is hard, but you can do hard things.”

This is different from my hospital experience so far this summer, but I feel useful. Necessary. I can help. I’ve been able to put my skills and bedside manner to the test in real time thesepast two days, and it’s been incredible. My chest fills with the rightness of it.

It was awesome to see Hunter in his element with the Wolves. But the locker room in Chicago made my skin itchy with anxiety. Getting Marissa home and taking care of her, knowing what she needs and being able to give it to her—it’s better than hockey.

My heart speeds up and I almost glance above me to see if there’s a lightbulb hanging over my head. Because I think I’m having a moment. But I’m sure of it. I’m meant to be a nurse. This is what I want to do with my life.

Hadley and her mom don’t seem to notice that I’ve just solved an existential crisis. I clear my throat and do my best to get Marissa situated, and she turns to Hadley. “There are some supplies I need. Better pillows, for one. And I can’t figure out the damn TV.”

Hadley raises a brow. “The TV? What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know.” She tosses a remote at me. “Brandon got it and left, and I don’t know the password.”

“You know,” Hadley speaks like she’s talking to a naughty preschooler, “You could set your own password.”

Marissa shrugs. “I don’t know how. Brandon takes care of all of that. Figure it out for me, okay?”

Hadley snatches the remote from my hands. “You can do things yourself. You don’t need a guy to do everything for you.”

Her mom frowns, affronted. “Of course I can. I do all kinds of things by myself while Brandon is away. I just don’t know the new TV password.”

I put my hand on Hadley’s arm. “Where’s the best place to go for pillows?”

Hadley drives us to a Neiman Marcus, distracted the whole time. Now that I’ve figured out my path forward in life, a weight has lifted off my chest. But I can’t get Hadley to laugh at a joke or crack a smile. There’s a permanent tightness in her expression.

As we stand in line in the swanky department store, I tug her to me. Her arms are full of fluffy pillows. Holding her chin in my hand, I stare into her eyes. I love that she's tall enough to make us eye level.

“Hey. You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

She sighs deeply, a sound I’ve heard from her on repeat these few days. “I just…my mom kinda drives me crazy.”

Not letting go of her, I scoot us forward in the checkout line. “I can see that. Why?”

“I hate this term, but my mom is a bit of a puck bunny.” Hadley glances at the floor, not meeting my gaze. “She’s always had a thing for hockey players, bounced around from guy to guy, and she’s just…okay with that. Brandon has been around for three years now, a long stretch for her. But still, he’s a dud. And I hate the way she changes based on who she’s dating.”

I don’t know Marissa, so I ask, “Changes? In what way?”

Hadley blows out a breath and lifts her eyes to mine. “Her interests. When she dated Todd, she loved hiking, because that was his favorite thing to do in the off-season. Or when she was with Marc, she got super into arcade games, because that was his hobby. And now with Brandon, it’s her appearance. I mean, I guess she’s always cared about that because of her modeling career, but it’s more intense than it used to be. They’re trying to get an endorsement deal for some fitness program.”

I took Hadley to the Taylor Swift music fest, and the pool, and the county fair this summer because I knew how much she’d love those activities. “Isn’t that a little… normal? To do stuff the other person is interested in when you’re in a relationship?”

A wrinkle forms between her brows. “Yeah, but it’s like she changes who she is. Because she doesn’t know who she is, and her identity is wrapped up in the guy she’s with.” She steps away, leaving me cold. “That’s why I’m not ready for a real relationship. I’m not even twenty-one yet. I need to figure out who I am, outside of the people I surround myself with.”

I swallow. Her words ram into me like a defenseman, leaving me bruised and battered internally. This isn’t a real relationship. Not a lasting one. I’m just the guy she’s sleeping with for the summer. I nod. “Yeah, okay, that makes sense.”

But I’m lying. Because my identity is tied to the people around me. I’m a son, a brother, a friend, a teammate. A caretaker. And it doesn’t bother me.

This is important to Hadley, though. Her eyes search mine for understanding, the lines of her shoulders tense and stiff. So I nod again and force a smile, shoving my free hand in my pockets so I don’t reach for her.

---