Her eyes bore into mine for a moment, before she grabs my wrist where it’s captivating her gaze. “You can’t talk to me like that, jerkface.”
“I’m sorry, D. You’re right, and I promise to tell you about it on the drive home, okay?”
“Fine.” That’s all she says before letting go of my hand, standing, and attempting to walk around me.
“Nope, come here.” I’m up before she has time to react, pulling her into my arms, “I’m not letting go until you return the hug.”
“You’re so annoying and I’m still mad at you.” Still, she wraps her arms around me, returning my hug, and I breathe in her vanilla scent.
“That’s on me. Let's go see how many more times we can beat my mom at board games.” This causes a small, poorly stifled laugh to escape her and I let her go, following her into the living room.
“You guys okay?” Dad asks as we enter the room, six slices of untouched pie sitting around a Monopoly board.
“All good.” Darcy gives him a stiff smile and takes a seat, lifting her piece of pie into her mouth.
* * *
“Drive safe,text us when you get home, please. Love you both!” Mom shouts, from her position on the porch, wrapped in my dad's arms. Shutting Darcy’s door behind her, I head to the driver's side.
“You got it! Love you both,” I call back, and slide in to see Darcy blowing them a kiss from her seat. The way she feels comfortable with my family gives me a warmth that radiates from deep within my chest. I hope she feels the love my parents have for her.
“Alright, Reed, get talking.” She says before I’ve even made it out of the driveway.
“Getting right into it then, love,” I tut, in another of my infamous horrible accents attempting to disarm my discomfort, “No tea or casual conversation in the parlor first?”
“Not right now, Tate. I need to know what got you so bent out of shape earlier.” She doesn’t play along with me, which can only mean Darcy is serious about us having this conversation while tonight’s events are still fresh in our memory.
“When I was in high school,” I begin, pausing briefly to clear my throat, “I wanted to play a sport. Basketball never appealed to me, I’ve never been a particularly good swimmer, baseball felt too slow, and football felt too aggressive.”
“And hockey didn’t?” She interrupts me, a shocked laugh leaving her mouth.
“You’d think. Hockey appealed to me because it felt the most competitive, and once I got out on the ice, I was a natural—moving like a rocket according to my coach and my mom. They named me right winger my sophomore year, and by my senior year, I was captain. Wingers tend to only be aggressive if necessary—or if they are Dominic Montez.” I glimpse her smile out of my periphery before I pick up where I left off. “I was offered a full-ride athletic scholarship to Florida U with the condition that I played for the team. My parents and I briefly discussed it before I gladly accepted the offer. The first two years went great, I led the team, aced my classes, and even met a girl.” I leave out that, the only relationship I’ve ever been in, led to me never wanting to commit to another person, sacrificing the life I enjoy for one person.
“You met a girl?” She sounds confused, like the possibility of me dating anyone was otherworldly.
I don’t blame her. I have a reputation for being single and enjoying a comfortable bachelor lifestyle. For a long time, I just enjoyed my time with women, and then we’d mutually agree to head in separate directions. I’ve always set a clear boundary with them.
“We’ll get to that in a moment. Picture this, it’s senior year and I’m being scouted by multiple NHL teams. I've got the girl that I might spend the rest of my life with and we are in the final college championship game. I’m speeding down the ice with the puck towards Missouri’s net when I get checked into the board at full force.” I pause for a moment, talking about this takes me right back to that moment. The screams from the fans, the way my body buckled underneath me, the blinding pain I felt as it happened. “My right kneecap goes straight into the board with the most horrific cracking sound and I’m on the ground immediately. I got rushed to the ER to find out that the way my leg twisted after the check twisted quite a few ligaments in my leg including my ACL.”
“Oh my god, that’s awful.”
“We did a surgery to stabilize my knee cap and an ACL reconstruction surgery. I did physical therapy for six months but was never able to reach my full form back. I missed my chance to be drafted. To top it off, the girl only stuck with me in hopes that I would recover and she would become a WAG, maybe even Mrs. Reed. When I told her I was no longer going to be playing, she broke up with me.”
“I’m so sorry you went through that, Tatum.” Darcy sniffles from her seat beside me, tears falling down her face. I gently place my hand on her thigh, squeezing lightly.
“Don’t cry for me, Mama, I’m happy now.” She places her hand over mine on her leg, not removing my hand or squeezing but just letting it rest there.
“Does it still bother you?”
“Once in a while I get a little stiff, but it’s manageable. It’s part of why I put so much effort into staying in shape.”
“Is this why you wanted to work in the NHL? To stay close to the game?”
“It is. I graduated with a business degree, and it worked out where I was able to get my foot in the door with the Mantas.” We pull into the gated underground garage for our condo building as I answer her.
“Do you miss playing?” Darcy asks in a solemn tone.
“Yeah, I do, but I’m happy where I ended up. Had I kept playing, I may not have stayed in Tampa, or I could have reinjured myself and made it worse. I might not have met Mav, who met Kodi, who then brought you into my life.” With that, I park the car and we head to the elevator that will take us up to our condo.
