Page 72 of Body Check
“You don’t need to come to all my appointments,” Dad says. “You’ve got hockey to focus on. And school. And your mom tells me you’ve got a girlfriend?”
“Yeah,” I smile, thinking of Bridgette. “You guys are going to love her. But I am coming to your appointments. I want to know what’s going on. I want to be there for you.”
Dad just nods, looking grateful, exhausted, and even a little choked up.
I’m about two seconds from crying myself, so I scoot forward and grab a puzzle piece. I might as well make myself useful. After a half hour or so, Dad starts rubbing his eyes and heads back to the bedroom for a nap, so I follow my mom into the kitchen. I pour us both a cup of coffee and set hers down on the table while she taps on the alarm pad by the door.
“You really have to lock him in?” I ask, hating this new reality. Dad seemed good today, but I don’t know how long that’sgoing to last. And even on the good days, it feels like there’s a cloud hanging over us.
Mom sighs. “He’s been better these past few days, but yes. I feel safer if all the doors are locked, especially after what happened.”
We sit in silence for a minute, sipping our coffee. My mom starts talking first, which is no surprise. “I hate this so much,” she says, unable to keep the emotion from her voice. “But, we’re going to get through it. I have to believe that. And the appointment on Tuesday is about the clinical trial. There’s a treatment your dad might be eligible for because of his age. We’ll learn more about it then.”
I nod, because I can’t think of anything helpful to say.
“I really do want to meet this girlfriend of yours,” Mom says. “Bridgette, right?”
Again, I just nod. When I feel my mom’s hand on my arm, I look up. “We have to keep moving, to keep living,” she tells me. “It’s hard and strange, but we have to keep doing it.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree, clearing my throat. “I’ll bring her by soon. I want her to get to know you guys.”
“I can’t wait,” Mom tells me. “Oh, I’ll have to dig out your baby books. And some old home movies. You were such a cutie. Hmmm…we’ll have to be smart about the movies we show her, though. You were such a grump in some of them! We don’t want to scare her off.”
That makes me laugh. “Don’t worry, Mom. She won’t be surprised.”
An hour later, I walk into the hockey house. Half the team is in the living room, and Bridgette’s curled up on the couch, scrollingthrough her phone. I’m tempted to take her upstairs so we can hang out, but Blue catches my eye. Dammit. He’s onto me. He holds his hands up like the letter X. “Nope. You two will have to get all lovey-dovey later. Sit your ass down, Sparky. We’ve got a war to win.”
“Teams?” I ask, settling onto the couch next to Bridgette and giving her a kiss
“Yep,” Blue nods, holding up a controller and taking the seat on my other side. “The freshmen organized a tournament. Since you never play video games with us, we’re the last seed. But have no fear. We’re still kicking ass.”
“Who else is playing?” I ask
“Everybody. Those are the rules,” Deano answers. “Well, Ollie gets a pass. He and Fallon are in the kitchen making meals for your mom’s freezer. You know, since she’ll have a lot going on, Ollie thought it’d be good to have one less thing to think about.”
Well, shit. Bridgette was right. These guys have my back.
The game starts up and Blue and I are holding our own against Dean and Leo. The rest of the guys are milling around. It’s a little chaotic, but that’s nothing new.
Speaking of chaos, we hear a scream from upstairs, followed by the sound of a door slamming. Two seconds later, Mickey flies down the steps, looking freaked out.
“You okay?” Blue asks.
Mickey shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. “No. I just saw my best buddy having sex on my bed. Like, I get it. He’s a sexy man with sexy needs. But now I gotta wash my sheets.
“Hold up,” Dean says, clearly just as confused as the rest of us. “JT is having sex on your bed? The fuck? He has a whole ass house. And who’s watching the baby?”
“Not JT,” Mickey clarifies. “He’s my bestie. My best buddy is Mr. Tittles.”
“The stray cat?” Leo asks.
“He’s not a stray,” Mickey corrects. “He’s a man of the world. He’s not bound by societal constraints. And neither is his girlfriend. She must be new to the neighborhood cause I haven’t seen her before.”
“Is she also feral and smelly?” Dime asks, earning himself a glare.
“She looks like one of those show cats, actually. You know, the kind you see on TV at those cat beauty pageants. She’s super fluffy like a Himalayan, but her fur was kinda blue. Oh, shit, do you think she got into some garbage? Like ink or blueberries or something? Did they have garbage sex on my bed?”
Oh, shit. Bridgette and I share a look. This is not going to end well.
