Page 95 of From Ice to Home
And as her husband, it’s my duty and responsibility to help her get to where she needs to be. I can’t just stand back and let her navigate through this on her own. We’re going to have to walk this out, together.
She starts busying herself with the duffel I brought in. I follow her as she carries it through the kitchen, into the laundry room. Setting it on the counter, she unpacks it, sorting through my clothes without a word.
Leaning against the doorframe, I watch her hands carefully handling my jerseys. I give her a minute, knowing she’s sorting through more than laundry.
“We have someone to do that for us, you know,” I say, knowing she knows about the staff I’ve hired to keep everything going around here.
Without looking up, she says, “I sort of adjusted Carmen’s hours.”
I frown, casting a glance back into the kitchen. It definitely looks like Carmen has been here. The floors are shining, everything’s in its place.
“Why?” I ask. “Have you been doing everything yourself?”
She shrugs. “I was going to be here the whole week anyway. She didn’t have to come in and clean up. I can do that myself,” she says, her eyes meeting mine for a second. “I think we’ll have her come help out a bit more next week. When everyone is here?”
“Everyone?” I ask, watching her start a load before walking back past me into the kitchen. “Who’s everyone?”
She opens the pantry door, the shelves stocked like I haven’t seen them before. Hannah takes out a few things, lining them up on the counter next to her. She’s deflecting. And she’s doing a pretty decent job of it.
“I thought we could invite your dad and Noah to come and watch your next game?” she says, her voice casual. “I know my family would also love to come.”
This time it’s me who’s not ready for a conversation.
Things are difficult with my dad…to say the very least.
He hasn’t watched a single one of my NHL games, no matter how many times I’ve asked him to bring Noah. To say that it hurts is an understatement. Part of me has used that and driven it into my game, playing harder each and every time. Although it’s always been a way of covering the hurt.
“Your family is more than welcome, Sanders,” I say, my voice steady. “We have enough room for everyone and I’d love to have them here.”
She pauses, sensing there’s more. “But?” she asks.
“But my dad won’t come.”
She stills at the counter, her gaze finding mine, concern written in her eyes.
“Why not?” she asks.
I exhale, forcing out the truth. “He’s never watched me play. Not one NHL game.”
There’s a flicker of shame moving through me as I say it out loud. I hate that it gets to me that much, that I’ve given him this much power over me, even without meaning too. I just wish things could’ve been different.
Her eyes widen, the look on her face turning into sympathy and then guilt.
“Don’t even think it, Hannah,” I say quickly, knowing she’s blaming herself for my dad’s lack of enthusiasm about my career choice. “This has got nothing to do with you or us. That’s his decision and his alone.”
“But if I—-”
“But if he’d been able to let things go and be happy for me, he would’ve been here. And he would’ve allowed my little brother to come too.”
I know Noah watches the games. But whenever I’ve sent tickets, my dad had some reason for him not to come out to New York. I’ve tried to keep my relationship with my dad assteady as possible, but sometimes it’s hard, since it feels like it’s mostly one-sided. I’ve stopped counting the number of times I spent in the locker room, after the game, checking my phone for a message that never came. Just one: ‘Nice goal,’ or ‘We watched.’ Anything. But there’s always been silence.
She steps toward me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head against my chest. Something cracks open inside of me. Not big or dramatic, just unexpected. I don’t think I’ve realized how much I’ve been holding on to this until now, until she’s here.
Steady, warm, and not letting go.
“I know it’s not easy, Lucas,” she says, her voice quiet, yet strong. “But maybe this isn’t about what he deserves, but about what you need.”
I sigh, breathing her in.I know.
