Nikos moved away, and a second later, I heard him speaking quietly. “Peter? Can you open your eyes for me? Your son is here. Peter?”
A moment passed, and I heard the sound of a body moving and shuffling, and small grunts, but other than that, my dad didn’t say a word.
“Should I keep trying?” Nikos asked.
I sighed and bowed my head. “Uh…probably not. I don’t…fuck. I don’t know what to do. I have no idea what I’m doing with all this.”
“He usually doesn’t sleep for too long. Why don’t you come to the front with me? I can get you something to eat while we wait for him to come around.” Nikos moved back to me, touching my hand with the back of his, and I absently took his bicep.
“How often does this happen? Like, really?”
“A few times a week,” Nikos said as he led me back to the front of the shop. We came to another stop. “There’s a chair to your right if you want to sit. I’ll fix you a plate. Does anything sound good?”
I grimaced. “No offense, but I don’t even know where I am.”
He made a soft choking noise. “Oh god. I’m so sorry. I forgot you can’t…which is ridiculous, right? You can’t see. It’s a bit obvious. I mean—oh, fuck me. I’m being so rude.”
I burst into laughter. Some of it was stress, but dear god, this man was sweet. “Please calm down. I’m a pro hockey player, okay? I’m almost impossible to offend.”
Nikos made a startled noise. “You play hockey?”
I felt offense rising in my chest. “Yeah. I know we’re not, like, asfamousas the NHL, but we’re still pro.”
“Sorry, no. I…I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not really a sports guy. My brother though—he plays.”
“Alexio?” I said, thinking of the guy with the voice. Maybe he was one of the Alexios I knew.
“Mm. He was drafted to Boston a few years ago, and we moved with him to keep him out of trouble.”
I almost laughed. Keeping hockey players out of trouble was futile. Especially those NHL dickheads. I tried not to be pissy with them. Most of them were nice guys. Well,someof them were nice guys. But they tended to treat us like we were trained circus animals doing tricks, not serious athletes.
Their attitudes left a lot to be desired, and when we had to deal with them for benefits or events, half the time, I had to remind them to stop fucking shouting because I was blind, not Deaf. But hey, maybe Nikos’s brother was cool. He seemed alright on the phone, so maybe he could have some benefit of my doubt.
“Anyway,” I said aloud. “Sorry to make it awkward.”
“My fault. But now I have to make it up to you. My mother would teleport across the Atlantic to murder me if I didn’t.”
I laughed. Sue me, I liked this guy. “Just, uh…you know what, I’ll take anything that has a ton of protein. Give me whatever you like best.”
“I can do that,” Nikos said softly. A moment later, I heard him moving around what I assumed was some kind of deli kitchen. “Can I ask something?”
“I wipe until there’s friction.”
“Uh…what?”
“Sorry. Inside joke.” I waved my hand at him. “Ask away.”
Nikos was silent for a moment, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I crossed a line. I tended to do that. A lot. “Are you not close with your dad? Or was the diagnosis too much?”
This time, I was offended, though his question was probably fair. “I’m not the kind of asshole who runs away when shit gets complicated. I just didn’t know what was going on. My mom dropped the news on us and then apparently fucked off to the other side of the world on some soul-finding mission.”
“She’s looking for a soul?”
“Trust me, she needs one, and I hope she’s successful.” When he was very quiet because yeah, I’d just made it awkward again, I cleared my throat. “I have a very complicated relationship with my parents, and apparently, my mom wasn’t joking when she said she was taking off to go live her best life in the UK. I didn’t realize she was actually going to leave my dad behind though.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” I said from behind a sigh. “It’s fucked. Sorry for swearing.”
