The last two weeks have been a blur of the most beautiful and special moments in my life. Nonstop celebration, press tours, happy tears, and endless love. Best of all, I got to spend it all with Shay right beside me, celebrating in her own right.
But the best is still yet to come because Shay, the Cup, the Keeper, and I are arriving somewhere incredibly special right now. It’s my day with the Cup, and there’s only one place I was ever going to go and one thing I was going to do.
It’s a sunny day here in Ann Arbor, just enough cloud cover for my liking. My mind starts to ramble, but I stop it the moment I catch it, forcing myself to be present and in the moment, however great or hard it may be.
Shay’s thumb brushes the back of my hand, her fingers interlocked with mine. Sometimes, I swear she can read my mind because she always seems to know exactly when I need her. My mom’s sitting on one of the benches, her face buried inher phone. But when she looks up, noticing us heading her way, she flies up with a gasping shriek.
“Matty!” she cries out and takes off, racing across the pavement. “My Matty!”
“Careful, Mama.”
I brace for her impact as she barrels into me, but she still manages to knock me back a step or two. Bending at the waist, I wrap my arms around her as she sobs into my shirt. I rub her back, up and down, letting her get her fill. Her fingers are digging into the middle of my back, but I don’t wince or say a word because I think she needs this just as much, if not more, than I do.
“You’re all right,” I murmur to her, petting her head. “I’m right here.”
“Oh, Matty,” she cries out once more and takes a slow, deep breath before stepping back and wiping beneath her eyes.
Her gaze falls to my now-wrinkled shirt that she hastily tries to fix with her hands, but it tickles slightly, and I laugh.
“Mom”—I reach up and gently grab her wrists, stopping her manic clothing assault—“it’s okay.”
Her pinched gaze flicks up to mine, and I nod, assuring her that the last thing in the world I could care about right now is this shirt.
“All right.” She huffs out a fast sigh and drops her hands to her sides before turning to Shay, a big smile taking over her face. “Ahh, look at you. You’re so beautiful, Shay. And thank you for coming with Matty.”
Shay snakes her arm around my waist and leans into me, my arm falling over her shoulders. “Nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”
I can see my mom’s shoulders lighten because she knows I have someone to hold close. But I can also see the pain in her eyes because her person is inside the nursing home behind us.My mom steps beside me, and we walk toward the entrance, the Keeper and his prized possession on a rolling cart behind us.
We get checked in, and a few residents eyeball the trophy behind me. I can’t help but wonder if they played hockey, if they’ve ever seen it in person. After we see my dad, I’ll be sure to stop in the commons area to take it on a little tour to anyone who wants to see it.
The air gets heavier as we walk down a hallway, my mom leading the way to my dad’s room. She says that he’s usually napping this early in the afternoon. But when she opens the door, he’s sitting up in his recliner, watching TV.
My heart leaps into my throat, and time slows as my dad hears us enter. I’m glued on to his side profile, everything else disappearing around me.
Will he recognize me? My mom?
Slowly, his head turns, and blue orbs I’ve spent my life looking into for advice, for love, for guidance lock on to mine, and my breath halts. And then the scales tip, his smile forms, and wrinkles crease beside his eyes.
“Matty,” he murmurs, standing up from his chair and waddling over. “Oh my God, Matty!”
He breaks through all my shields and emotional barriers as his arms wrap around my shoulders and he pulls me down, cradling my head into the crook of his neck.
Suddenly, I’m not thirty years old. I’m the little boy who crawled into his dad’s lap for comfort, the little boy whose first coach was this man right here. I’m little Matty who learned how to be who I am because of him.
My chest breaks open, and my eyes catch fire. I pull him tightly against me. My voice cracks as I say, “I love you so much, Dad.”
“I love you too.” He cries with me, not caring at all about whether or not I won the Cup, about how I performed on the ice,or anything other than being exactly as I am. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I missed you,” I whimper, clinging as tightly as I can to him and to this moment, unsure how many more times we’ll have where he’s truly here.
He pats my back and kisses the side of my head. “I’m right here, Matty. I’m right here.”
Fuck. I can’t even describe the emotion coursing through me. It’s agonizing and brutal, but beautiful all the same. Because how fucking lucky am I to have a dad so incredible to love this much? It’s a blessing and a curse, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. All I know is that he’s the best dad in the entire goddamn world.
“All right, all right.” I pull back, righting myself.
Finding tears in his eyes nearly guts me to pieces. This all must be just as confusing and scary to him, not always understanding the cloudiness in his mind.
