Page 72 of Lucky Shot
He glances down at his hand and then lets it drop. “Oh yeah. Fine.”
I must not look convinced because he adds, “I’m good. Don’t go worrying about me. I’m healthy as can be.”
“I think your cholesterol numbers would disagree with that assessment.” I try to joke it off, but the tightness remains.
He hums his dismissal at that, but the reminder of everything that happened has me walking to the fridge and pulling out an apple. I peel and cut it, then give him half.
The look he gives me is akin to Aidan’s expression when I put green beans on his plate. He grumbles some more but takes the apple slices.
I take my share of the apple outside to the back patio. It’s my favorite place of the house. The view, the quiet, all of it. Withoutrealizing I’m looking for her, I scan the lake and over by the cabin for Ruby. She’s nowhere in sight, but the front windows are open.
I was having fun with her today. More than I’ve had in a long time. And it carried over through the afternoon. That hit messed with me in ways that go far beyond the physical. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to step onto the ice for a game and not wonder if the next injury is the end. We played no-contact today, but just messing around together and remembering the good instead of dwelling on all the bad was nice.
It’s small but it’s a start.
Sometime after midnight I give up on sleep and head downstairs. Dad’s snores are the only noise in the house. I close his door on my way to the kitchen, so the light won’t wake him and then I pull out a mug from the cabinet to make some tea.
Maybe it was too optimistic to think that because I had a breakthrough on the ice that my sleep would improve as well. I’m restless, plagued with nervous energy about hockey, my dad, Aidan, and every other possible thing in my life that could go bad.
Tea in hand, I step out onto the back deck. The night air is cool against my bare chest. The moon is full tonight, shining bright down on the lake.
The cabin lights are still on but there’s no sign of Ruby. Most likely she left them on when she went to bed, but I still find myself picturing her inside, maybe lying awake, unable to sleep like me.
I settle into the couch on the deck and pull the throw blanket around my shoulders. Sleep doesn’t feel any closer, but there’sa peace out here that never fails to calm the voices in my head. The ones that have me questioning if I’ll ever get another good night’s sleep again. Or if I’ll ever be able to play hockey again, if my dad’s going to be okay, and if someday not that far away, Aidan will be in my same position.
I let my head fall back and stare up into the sky. The warmth of the mug feels nice in my hands, and I focus only on breathing and clearing my mind.
I’m not sure if it’s the sound or the movement that finally catches my attention, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand as I sit up, gaze darting to the cabin and then scanning until I spot a figure down by the lake.
Something or someone is moving around down there. Too big to be a raccoon. A kid maybe? We get an occasional teenager, or group of them, that wander onto the property occasionally.
Then the figure moves and her hair blows in the wind. Ruby.
My heart rate settles down, but my gut swirls with unease. I stand, set my tea on the table in front of me, and head for the lake without thinking. My bare feet pad quickly down the steps and through the grass. My pulse picks up speed again as I get closer.
Ruby has her back to me. A long T-shirt hangs down mid-thigh on her. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail that swings around as she…what the hellisshe doing?
She’s tossing something into the lake. Rocks, I think. More noises greet me as I approach her. Grunts and little screams. She leans down to gather more pebbles, and I get a look at her profile. Her mouth is pulled into a tight line and there’s a stubborn, frustrated set to her jaw. She rears back and throws, slingshotting her arm and squealing as the rock soars ten or twenty feet and drops into the lake.
She does it again and again, finally stomping one foot.
“Why isn’t this more satisfying?” she asks…herself? The lake? The rock? I haven’t a clue, but the fire in her tone and fight in her body language has a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
“What the hell are you doing?”
My voice startles her, and she spins around, rock held up like she’s going to launch it at my face.
“Woah.” I hold my hands up in front of me. “Don’t fire.”
Her body goes slack, and she drops her arm back to her side. “Nick. You scared me.”
“Sorry. I was on the back deck and saw someone down here.”
“Right.” She glances toward my house and then back to me. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.”
“It’s late. I thought you’d be sleeping,” she says, facing the lake again.
