“It was such a barn burner. My heart was literally pounding when Luke sent that last stone down the ice. I can’t believe they won by one point. Who knew curling could be so exciting?”
I wipe my mouth with my napkin then put it back on my lap.
“Um, Luke, probably?”
Connor’s phone vibrates on the table. I don’t miss the way his eyes flash with concern before he types out a response.
“Everything okay? Is it Nana and Papa?”
Connor and I were basically raised by our grandparents. Connor remembers our mom a little bit, but she took off a few days after I was born. Apparently our father took off nine months before that, the day he found out she was pregnant again.
It took a long time and a lot of therapy to come to terms with the fact that neither of our parents wanted us, but ourgrandparents are true angels. They never complain and show up to everything they can.
I’ll never know how they were able to keep up with two kids in hockey. They’ve given us everything. Literally.
“No.”
That’s all I get. Grumpy, closed-off Connor is back. Great.
“No, as in everything is not okay? Or no as in, it’s not them?”
His eyes never leave his phone when he responds. “It’s not them. They’re fine. Papa’s hip is healing great. But they’re sad they can’t be here.”
My papa fell and hurt his hip a week before they were supposed to fly to Sweden. I know how badly they wish they could be here to see me at my first Olympics, but it won’t be my last. Not if I have anything to do about it.
I watch as Connor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. His chest rises and falls twice before he opens his eyes again.
He types out a quick text then flips his phone face down on the table again.
Connor and I don’t talk about much outside of hockey and mundane things like the weather. He was never open to talking with me when Luke’s sister passed away or about any of his past relationships. Although, he only really had one that I know of. I wish I knew how it ended. All I know is that Connor’s never been the same since. Not really.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Connor? What was the emergency that kept you home earlier this week?”
Connor’s hands freeze above his plate where he was just cutting up his French toast. A second later, he continues what he was doing, refusing to look up at me.
“Nothing. A friend just needed some help.”
I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. I stay like this until he finally looks up at me.
“What?”
“That’s it? You had to miss all but one of my round robingames because a friend needed some help? What did they need help with? Were they moving? Did their car die? What was so important you couldn’t be here for me?”
My breath catches on the last word, and I don’t even realize when a tear falls down my cheek.
I’ve never expected much out of Connor. I know his life as an NHL defenseman is busy and demands most of his time and attention. But apparently him being at my first Olympics meant more to me than I thought. The NHL is on a break for the Olympics. I thought just maybe he’d show up for me.
Connor places his utensils on the table and reaches his hand out to rest it on my arm.
“Hey, Charlotte. I’m sorry. I really am. There was no way I was going to miss the elimination games or medal game. I just had somewhere I really needed to be.”
He keeps his hand on my arm but I refuse to say anything. He still hasn’t explained why he couldn’t be here.
Connor must notice how hurt I am because he continues. “A very good friend of mine had a medical emergency. I needed to be there until I knew she was okay.”
She?
I have so many questions. There’s never been a woman before. I want to know so badly what’s going on in his life but the look on my brother’s face tells me everything I need to know.
