Copying and pasting the email address into the share portion of the app, I selected the PDFs I needed and forwarded them on.
“Everything okay?”
“Oh, um, sure. Just had to send some of my mom’s medical files for her chart before surgery.”
I set my phone back on my thigh.
“Wow. That’s amazing. You keep track of her records for her? Like, you get the reports and store them in a folder?”
Would it really hurt to tell him about the app? I doubted he’d care.
“Yeah, so, I actually made an app that makes it possible to centralize all the tests, appointments, and results from different doctors via one automated email address.”
“I’m sorry. Did you just say you wrote a fucking app? Like, on a computer, sat down and coded something that now works on your iPhone?” Ash’s gaze darted around my face, as if leaning that I could code was a big deal.
I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just something I’ve always played around with, and I’ve got a knack for it.”
“Cade, fuck, I’d say it’s a pretty big deal! That’s amazing. Did you ever consider going to school for it? You were drafted in grade twelve, right?”
It was hard to absorb any of his praise as the thousands of small needles dug deep into the marrow of my bones. God, did I want to do something with coding? More than anything.
But I was sitting in my AHL assistant coach’s car, so I couldn’t very well admit anything that implied I didn’t want to be playing hockey.
Pulling both hands through my hair, I tried to force the phantom pain from my body. I wanted to drop this line of conversation, but Ash was waiting for my answer, and I couldn’t disappoint him.
“Yeah. I thought about it a bit,” I shrugged. “But going to university for software engineering wasn’t exactly compatible with my OHL hockey schedule, you know? So, I was luckywhen one of my mom’s doctors mentioned my app to a medical company rep, and they bought fifty percent ownership.”
“Wow. I hope you know how incredibly talented you are, Cade. I don’t know any hockey player who has the dedication to play at the semi-pro level and go after an interest the way you have. I hope you continue to find time for coding.”
“Sure, maybe,” I replied vaguely, not wanting to outright lie. “Ready to go in?”
Ash pressed his lips together like he was about to say something more but chose a clipped nod instead.
He didn’t say anything else as we got out of the car and walked into the lobby. Since we’d left at the last minute, all we had was a small duffel each.
I moved to the side of the lobby where the elevators were, letting Ash handle check-in.
Selfishly, I wanted to extend my ignorance about the price of the rooms he’d booked even a few minutes longer. My grocery budget was going to suck for the next month or so, once I paid him back for this room and the gas for the drive up.
Thank god for the team meetings that Coach Wilder had catered, or I’d never see a hint of protein that wasn’t the processed frozen garbage that was my normal fare.
My duffel sat limply against my back, reminding me I wasn’t where I was supposed to be right now. It felt strange not to be lugging hockey gear to and from the team bus.
I’d never stayed in a hotel room that wasn’t related to a hockey game. Even so, this wasn’t a vacation either. It was about two guys desperate for some sleep while I waited to hear from my mom after her operation.
A glance at my phone screen showed that Mom should be out of surgery within the hour. I’d asked the nurses at the main ER desk to make a note for someone to call me post-surgery.Hopefully, that message had been passed along because it would never cross my dad’s mind to keep me updated.
Frank Kelly only wanted me to care about the things that he believed were important. He found a way to belittle and shame everything else to the point where I’d had to bury all the real things that made me who I was.
I was so practiced at pretending to be controlled all the time that I now found it harder to access any part of myself that was authentic when I was with people I loved. Kait was good about calling me out when I’d sunk too deep into the numbness that stemmed from growing up with a piece of shit father like mine.
As for Mom, she’d overheard some of the comments Dad made to me over the years, but her illness took precedence over anything I was going through. Not that she ever said anything of the sort, but I’d never wanted to hurt her with the truth of how Dad treated me when she was already struggling with MS.
Money had always been so tight that I didn’t want her to have to decide between the care she needed, which sometimes came through whatever job Dad could hold down at the time, and the obligation to leave him if she knew about the handful of times he’d smacked me around over the years.
Ash approached the desk and offered the receptionist a warm smile that had the edge of something ugly growing in my chest. There was no way in hell I would ever admit I was jealous that he shared some of that addictive spark he carried around with a random stranger.
And I definitely wouldn’t admit that I wished I were the one who made him smile the most.
