“Of course.”
He turns to my mother. “You will go. You will enjoy.”
My mother rolls her eyes. “I will shop. You will go.”
He shrugs. “Okay.”
Then I see it.
The way he surreptitiously trails two fingers along her forearm.
She glances down and touches his fingers with hers.
Contact only lasts a second. That’s all it is, but now I understand what he was talking about. She rolled her eyes at him like she’s annoyed about the birds but she’s not. Not really. Maybe she’s not interested in the birds but she understands how much he enjoys it, and that’s important to her. His happiness makes her happy.
Just like it makes me happy when I see Holly happy.
She came home from the day with my father and aunt full of laughter and stories, talking nonstop about how they spent their time. Calling the birds by name, showing me pictures. And I can already see that she bonded with my father. They share something now, and it’s the start of a relationship.
A real one.
Something genuine and special, with my father.
An interest they share that I couldn’t have predicted.
To my utter shock, I’m envious that my father got to experience that with her before I did. Something that’s important to her. I couldn’t care less about birds, but now I see that I should take an interest in things she enjoys. I don’t have to love the birds but I can appreciate the fact that she loves them. And occasionally enjoy them with her. It’s not like I hate birds—I just never gave them any thought.
It’s the equivalent of one of those random caresses my father mentioned. A way to bond with her. To show her that I care without having to say anything.
Because I’m bad at that.
Because I don’t know what I’m doing.
Because I want her.
It’s that simple.
If I allow myself to stop and take a breath, I’ll remind myself about all the ways this has disaster written all over it but I don’t care.
She’s my wife and she’s mine.
Whatever happens in the future is a problem for another day.
Today, I’m going to start letting her know she’s more than just a contract.
I tried before, when I mentioned taking her out on a date, and she essentially blew me off. That ends now. I will make the effort, even if she’s resistant at first. I know it’s because she’s protecting herself. I understand that. What she needs to understand is that I would never knowingly hurt her.
But tonight is game four—and we need this win.
Tomorrow, I need to start being the man I want to be instead of expecting her to figure out the man I am.
I walk through the arena with renewed purpose, and for the first time since we got married, I’m completely calm. Focused on hockey. Ready to win.
“Hey.” One of the newer guys on the team, Cash Newman, sinks down next to me and starts taping his stick. The team picked him up just before the trade deadline and he’s been a beast on the ice. I love watching him out there. We don’t know each other well but everyone has heard his name in the hockey world. He came from the minors and then suddenly became a superstar. It’s been fascinating to watch him grow and mature on the ice.
Now he’s my teammate and maybe even becoming a friend.
I watch the way he smoothly tapes his stick, his hand and the roll of tape moving in a rhythmic motion. I do it too, so this is nothing new, but I’m hyper focused tonight and it’s somewhat soothing.
