I spot my dad and mom right away. They’re in the left corner by the door with Crew. And Tenley. Why is she with my parents? Mom waves and smiles at me. Dad nods and tries to smile but it looks more like a grimace. He is still not over this accidental marriage thing. We’ve talked once, briefly, since it was leaked. He just kept saying, “I don’t understand. Make it make sense, Nash.” And, well, I couldn’t. He did agree with the team’s request to not divorce until later so at least I felt good about abiding by that request. I just hate that it also accommodated Tenley’s stupid documentary.
I walk over to them and immediately hug my mom. She squeezes me tightly. “Great job baby!”
Dad pulls me into a dad-hug which is one arm around my shoulders and a hearty pat on the back with the other. He pulls back. “You and Crew on that first goal was a thing of beauty.”
“Thanks.”
Everything gets silent. Everyone is staring at me. Tenley clears her throat. I glance at her like I’m seeing a pesky mosquito buzzing by my head. Crew whispers, “Umm… hug your wife dipshit. Eyes are everywhere.”
“Do I have to?”
“Shut up,” Tenley says with a broad smile on her face so no one knows she’s actually being a bitch. “Hug me. Pretend I’m a hockey stick or that stupid beanie you love so much.”
She wraps her arms around my neck. I fight off a shudder and wrap one around her waist. It’s tiny and tight. “It’s called a toque and it’s lucky.”
“I’m not Canadian. It’s a beanie.”
She lets go of me but I keep her snug to my middle with my arm tight around her waist. “You married a Canadian. Adapt.”
I let her go and she smiles brighter. “Dick.”
“Brat.”
“Oh how I love young love,” Mom announces with a sarcastic sigh.
Tenley smirks at my mom. “Oh yeah. We’re end game goals for sure. If you’ll excuse me I think we’ve made enough of an effort. I’m going to go congratulate my brother.”
I watch her turn and walk across the room. Yep. My jersey. My name across her narrow shoulders. My dick starts getting restless in my pants. “No, you caveman.”
“Who’s a caveman?” Crew asks and I feel like an idiot for chirping my dick out loud.
“Never mind,” I mutter. “Are you guys staying long?”
Dad nods. "We'll be here for the next game too. And then we'll see you back in L.A."
Normally this would be great news. I love having family around for playoffs. But I can literally feel the tension between Dad and I and I’m not looking forward to more of that. I can only hope time will make it go away because I don’t know what else will. Dad spots Jordan talking to Coach Braddock and he heads that way.
Crew runs over to the door as soon as Liv walks in with Grady.
Now it’s just me and Mom in the corner and she’s staring at me like I’m a puzzle she is trying to figure out. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Good. We won.”
“I don’t mean Nash the player. I mean Nash my son,” she clarifies. “I have a weird feeling about you.”
I look down into her eyes. Mom is smart and stubborn and also a total softy on the inside. She is hyper-aware of just about everything. Her life wasn’t easy growing up in my uncle’s hockey shadow, and she had a rocky relationship with drugs that landed her in a rehab. She was a strict parent but not a tough one. That’s the only way I know how to explain it. “This whole thing is annoying. With Tenley. I’m mad at myself.”
“I get that. You are too hard on yourself on a good day,” Mom replies and reaches out, squeezing my arm. “If you ever need to talk… I’m here. Day or night. Don’t worry about your dad. Just call me, okay? I know that living a lie can be really hard on your mental health. I didn’t tell your dad about my past when we first met and it kind of wrecked me. I don’t want this situation to do that to you.”
“Thanks. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
“It’s okay if you aren’t though,” she reminds me and I nod even though I don’t believe her. I need to be perfect. I need to handle everything. There’s a championship on the line. I can’t fuck up. “You know what would probably help?”
“What?”
She smiles gently, like she used to do when we were kids and she’d start to count to three but rip off our band-aids on two. It’s a this-is-going-to-hurt-but-it’s-for-your-own-good smile. “Try actually being friends with her.”
“With who? Tenley? No,” I say, lowering my voice so no one overhears.
