Page 106 of Dirty Puck

You could hear the waves behind her. She was wearing that old cream sweater she’d always said made her feel “put together,” even though it had a stain on the sleeve she never could scrub out.

“Play it,” Bree’s voice said in my head, giving me the reassurance I needed to watch. So I did.

The screen lit up with Ma’s face—so warm, so familiar. Her eyes sparkled the way they always had when she was up to something.

“Hi, baby,” she said, smiling softly. “If you’re seeing this, it means you’ve made it to Christmas. That means I’m not there beside you in person… but you know me, I never go far.”

Tears welled in my eyes locked to the screen.

“I didn’t want to make this too heavy,” Mom continued. “I know how sad I’d be if our roles were reversed, so I want to make this ahappymemory. That’s what Christmas should be. That’s whatyoushould be. Light, and laughter, and stubborn hope.”

She chuckled, looking down, her fingers fiddling with the corner of a blanket in her lap. “God, I miss hugging you already.”

My throat tightened.

“But, Baker… if I could give you one gift this Christmas, it’s peace. Peace in knowing that you’re already everything I ever hoped for. You were always good, always kind. You took care of me, even when I didn’t need you to. You are the greatest joy, the greatest accomplishment of my life—and now, sweetheart, it’s your turn to feel that too.”

“Dammit, Ma,” I whispered, my hand to my mouth.

“I hope, by the time you watch this, you’ve started to recognize that overwhelming feeling of joy and accomplishment with Bree and Benny because there’s not one job in theworld more important than being a loving, supportive partner and parent. Maybe you and Bree will have another child, and maybe you won’t. Stanley Cups are wonderful but won’t even come close to the feeling you’ll get when Benny looks at you with complete trust in his eyes. And when you hold the woman you love in your arms, you’ll realize how incredibly lucky you are to have it.” She paused and grinned, just a little. “And because you’re smart, you’llneverlet go.”

I found myself gripping the corners of the laptop so tightly, I started to lose circulation.

“I’ve seen how you love, Baker. Full-out. Fierce and gentle. That kind of love is rare. It’ll protect your boy. It’ll carry your relationship with Bree. It’ll carryyouwhen things feel too heavy. Don’t be afraid to lean on it.”

Her smile faltered just a bit, and her eyes glossed.

“I’m not scared, baby. I want you to know that. I’ve had a beautiful life. And you were the very best part of it.”

She glanced off screen at something, and I just knew Bree had been with her that day, helping her record it. God, hearing my mom say all of that—knowing what she saw when she looked at us—must’ve made it fucking gut-wrenching for Bree to leave. And me? I felt like a complete asshole for not telling her how I really felt sooner. For making her carry that weight alone. Finally, my mom turned her gaze back to the camera and looked straight into the lens one last time.

“I’ll always be with you. Just like this. Every Christmas, every game, every time you laugh so hard, you cry. I’ll be there. And I’ll be proud. So, so proud.”

A soft smile. One I could still picture with my eyes closed.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. I love you to the moon and back.”

The screen went black.

And for the longest moment, I just sat there. Breathing herin. Letting her voice settle into the cracks of me that still ached.

Bree stood in the archway between the living room and kitchen leaning against the wall, eyes shining. “She knew.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “She knew everything.”

Outside, the waves crashed against the shore. Inside, Benny stirred and rolled over, crinkling the wrapping paper some more.

And in that moment, even with tears running down my face, I smiled.

Because she’d been right.

Iwasn’talone. I never would be again.

Not with the family she’d left behind… and the one I was building.

After wiping my eyes, I closed the laptop and walked over to where Bree stood. Mom’s message was unexpected and so, so welcome, but now I needed coffee and laughter, and I got both when I walked into the kitchen to see Claudia fixing breakfast wearing an apron that read “I’m the reason Santa has a naughty list.” She was humming to herself, stirring something on the stove that smelled like cinnamon and love.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, kissing Bree on the cheek and ruffling my hair like I was a damn child. But I didn’t even flinch because I secretly loved it.

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