“Finley?” A voice calls a moment before the announcer asks fans to stand if they’re able for the singing of the national anthem.
I raise my hand. “That’s me,” I say, turning toward the source.
And there in the aisle stands Zach’s family, who I’d recognize even if Zach hadn’t shown me pictures. His mom, Rosie, grins the same way he does, with equal parts joy and gratitude. His dad, Bill, stands behind her, hands on her shoulders to keep her steady. Zach’s protective like that too. His brother, Jeff, is Zach’s carbon copy, except he has his mom’s green eyes. Melanie, his sister, appraises me, her eyebrows knitting together like Zach’s when he concentrates. I love them instantly, for every bit of Zach I see in them.
All of us face the flag as the national anthem plays. As soon as it ends, Rosie shouts over the cheering crowd, “Come here, sweetheart!”
I hesitate, not wanting to leave Kennedy alone with her mother’s vacant seat.
“I’ll take your seat.” Deandra appears behind Zach’s family, decked out in Wolves gear, the most casual attire I’ve seen her wear. The fierce winged eyeliner and blunt-cut hair stillmake her look formidable, but I think she’d give off that vibe regardless of her clothes and makeup. I suppose fighting for a spot in a male-dominated industry will do that to a person.
“Go meet your in-laws,” Kennedy whispers, flashing them a smile. “And hurry before you block puck drop. This crowd will yell at you. We’ll catch up later, all right?”
“Thanks, Kens.”
I move toward Zach’s family, sliding past Deandra as she heads toward Kennedy. She whispers, “Good luck,” and lightly squeezes my forearm.
“It’s so great to meet all of you,” I say, raising my voice as the crowd cheers louder. “Here let’s—”
Rosie pulls me into a crushing hug, silencing my attempt at suggesting we settle into our seats. “Oh, honey, I’ve been dying to meet the girl my son won’t stop talking about.” She pulls back but takes hold of my hands. “I’ve never seen my boy this happy.”
Her words tug the center of my chest, and I swallow hard, determined not to cry in front of Zach’s family. I still surprise myself when emotion so easily pushes to the surface. I shoved every feeling down for so long, refusing to let it affect me.
To no one’s surprise, dating Zach Briggs has changed that for me. I’ll never reach his level of vulnerability, wearing every emotion on my sleeve, but I’m a far cry from the stilted, serious girl who brought him to her gym the first time.
“I’ve never been this happy,” I say through the clot of emotion lodged in my throat.
Bill and Jeff offer me handshakes before exiting the aisle to sit beside Kennedy and Deandra. Melanie makes no move to hug me or offer a handshake, but as we enter the row, she instructs me to sit between her and Rosie. Easier to grill me that way, I suppose. Zach warned me about his overprotective sister and said I shouldn’t take her standoffish attitude as judgment against me.
“It's so kind of your brother to pay for our travel,” Rosie gushes while we settle into our seats as the puck drops at center ice. “Your parents are here, yes? I want to meet the people who raised such terrific kids.”
“That’s them,” I tell her, pointing over my shoulder toward my parents, who sit on the other side of my brothers.
My parents turn as though they feel my gaze, and I offer a smile and wave. We’re still meeting each week with Dr. Warren, slowly building a relationship based on honesty and trust. As long as I’m forthright about my moods and activities, they respect my decisions, even if it makes them nervous. My mom waves back enthusiastically while my dad offers a quick nod before turning his attention back to the ice. He’s making an effort despite his hesitance to relinquish control of my safety. I appreciate he’s working on it and that our relationship is inching toward a better place as a result.
“I’m Zach’s mom,” Rosie calls, answering my mom’s wave with one of her own. “I love your daughter!”
“But you don’t know me,” I say before I can filter the internal thought.
Rosie spins back around. “Not as well as I’d like… but, Finley, my son has told me all about you, about how you treat him. The way you put his needs above your own.” One hand lands flat over her heart. “Gosh, the way you asked him to think about whether a relationship was what he wanted... it takes a strong person to do that.”
Zach knows how much I struggle with telling people I have bipolar disorder. I prefer to do it after I trust them, but I wanted to handle telling his family differently. I wanted them to know me fully, and they couldn’t without revealing the condition that affects every day of my life. So Zach told his family for me before this trip, and according to him, they were supportive. I didn’t fully believe it until now.
“He told me how you support him,” Rosie goes on, “by going to every out-of-state playoff game. Making his favorite foods when he gets home from a road trip, even if you can’t wait up because of your schedule.” She flings an arm toward the rink. “You love him because ofhim, not for what he can do on that ice. I already see how much Zach’s grown since he met you.”
I let out a laugh. “He knows how to load a dishwasher now.”
Rosie chuckles. “Yes, well. Itried, but it took a real incentive for it to stick.”
That’s what everything in my life feels like now, like it’s sprinkled with an extra incentive. Since meeting Zach, my drive toward my goals hasn’t changed, but I also want to make him proud. I’m working the same grueling schedule, but something’s different within me. There’s an extra flicker of awareness that he’s beside me, that my wins are his and that his are mine.
“Oh my God!” Rosie shouts suddenly as number ten sprints down the ice on a breakaway. “Go, Zach!”
The crowd hops to their feet as he approaches the net with only the goalie standing between him and a goal. Zach heads toward the goalie’s left, but at the last split second, he glides the puck in the opposite direction, giving it a flick into the air. It hits the net, and the siren sounds, followed by the team’s goal-scoring anthem and an eruption of cheers through the arena. The camera finds us, bringing our flushed and smiling faces to the screen at center ice as we hop up and down in excitement. Zach and his teammates do their celebratory hugs, driving him against the glass with their momentum. The camera swings to him next, showing his mouth open in a scream, eyes lit, one arm punching the air.
We eventually settle back in our seats, but there’s electricity in the air now. The crowd’s alive, engaged, and ready for more.
“Well, now that we’re all in a good mood.” Melanie folds her hands over her lap. “Are you ready for the real test?”
