Page 10 of Moms of Mayhem
Our injuries weren’t the same, but he was throwing me a rope.
My phone buzzed again, this time from the far-less-eloquent Logan Parrish—our line’s forward and hands down the cockiest Alberta farm boy I’d ever met. The kind of guy who grew up chasing moose on a snowmobile and thinks duct tape can fix emotional trauma.
Logan
Bro, you dead? Or just being a duster and ghosting the boys?
I shook my head, half-smiling.
Me
Not dead. Just dealing with some stuff. I’ll catch up tomorrow.
Logan
Atta boy. We’ll save you a Gatorade and a warmup fight with the vending machine. Don’t get soft on us out there, Grandpa.
The phone landed on the table with a soft thud, and I leaned back against the couch, the quiet pressing in on me like a heavy blanket.
I knew Mikko meant it when he said it got better. I just hoped he was right. Because right now? It didn’t feel like it ever would.
5
My thumbs drummed on the soft leather steering wheel, and I peered out into the dark, snowy night. George Strait crooned a 90’s love song in the background, the sound low enough to make the tension in the car feel loaded. “Ready to talk yet?”
Jace kept his headphones around his neck, which told me hedidwant to talk, but he’d turned his whole body away from me. I flicked my gaze toward him, staring at the golden-brown curls I’d always loved—my color and Ryan’s waves. It was an absolute mop lately, but wet from the shower and shoved under a backward Mayhem hat, it curled at his nape.
“The snow is pretty tonight. Maybe we can go sledding on Sunday.” I tried to steer the conversation toward neutral ground, shoving all my anger and frustration down. The last thing we needed was for me to elevate Jace’s anger, even if I was disappointed in how he’d chosen to handle it.
Jace grabbed for his headphones, and I reached across the center console, resting my hand on his arm. “I can’t let this go, bud. You know that wasn’t okay.”
He dropped his hands back to his lap and made a grunting noise that told me he’d spent a lot of time with my brother in the last few months.
“You do know words, I’m positive. How else would I know about every Pikachu?”
My sarcasm finally caught his attention, and Jace shot me a bored look. “It’s Pokémon.”
I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep my smile from showing. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
He rolled those pretty hazel eyes, and I silently high-fived myself for getting him to talk to me at all. “Want to get out your cards and tell me all about them like you used to? We can order a pizza, and I won’t even get mad when you leave them all over the living room.”
With a shake of his head, Jace said, “I thought being a young mom meant you were supposed to be cooler than other adults. Turns out you’re also lame.”
I shrugged, then patted his shoulder. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I wasn’t cool even when I was your age.”
“Then how’d you end up with Dad?” he asked. “Wasn’t he the hockey star everyone wanted?”
I drew in a breath, thinking through my answer. No matter my frustration with Ryan, he was Jace’s dad, and he wasn’tallbad, even if my memories were now tinged with his betrayal. There was a time when I thought we’d been a happy family, or, at least, happy-ish.
Glancing his way, I pondered whether Jace was old enough to know the truth of how his father and I came to be, or if I should keep feeding him the same “college sweethearts” line we always had.
Jace tipped his head back on the headrest, then tilted hisface my way. “I already know you got drunk at a hockey party you weren’t supposed to be at.”
A nervous laugh bubbled out of me, and my hands tightened on the steering wheel. “It did go something like that, yes. Who told you that?”
“Ty,” he answered, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, pulling them back and forth.
Don’t hide your own problems from him,my therapist’s words rang in my head.Show him it’s okay to make mistakes, own them, and learn from them. That you can be better because of them.
