1. Wren

1

WREN

Ten years later

" W ren, do you mind helping me water this plant?" my sweet, elderly neighbor, Alice, asked as she caught me walking up the pathway to my home. A small smile had lifted on my face, something I've been doing a lot more of lately, especially since the day she moved in next door. A little quirky, but with a heart of gold, she quickly became someone I adored spending time with.

Even if it was just sitting on her flowerpot-and-plant-covered front porch, where we drank sweet tea and talked about anything and everything. I found myself wanting those easy, peaceful nights more often now as going out seemed less appealing. Not that I was going out much anyway, but I'd take meaningful conversations and the best sweet tea I've ever tasted over a night out.

"I must have shrunk overnight because now I can't reach my damn begonias." She grunted as I made my way up her steps with a grin directed at the five-foot woman who was using her cane to lift herself up higher onto her toes.

"Why don't you go sit down and let me finish watering the rest," I offered as I slowly approached her side and went to grab the watering can. A small huff flew past her lips in annoyance.

"I didn't want to bother you, but she was looking a little droopy and I didn't want her to go another day without water."

Smiling, I began watering the rest of her plants.

"You don't have to worry about bothering me, Alice. If anything, I'm the one that bothers you too much." I chuckled while she pointed to a few more flowers that needed to be watered and once I was done, I took a seat in one of her white rocking chairs next to her.

"You're never a bother. I just don't understand why a young, beautiful lady like yourself isn't out enjoying what the world has to offer." She leaned farther back into her chair as her eyes settled on something in her front yard. "Wouldn't you rather be out with friends? Making memories? Meeting someone?"

Instantly, a sharp pain broke out in my abdomen. It was an ache that was forever embedded in the edges of my heart and every day, no matter the length of time that had passed, it always felt the same.

Like I could no longer find air.

Like the world had come crashing down, destroying every ounce of hope and happiness that I had been given.

That he had given me, and it was suddenly… gone.

One moment he was here, then the next, not. And it never got any easier. Ten years later, I still desperately clung on to the past because I refused to let his memory fade away.

I refused to let the memory of us fade away.

"Oh, Wren…" Alice interrupted, causing my hazy eyes to refocus. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I speak before I think."

With a somber smile, I peered over at her and noticed the regret shining in her eyes. I hated that I had made her feel bad, but the mention of even trying to meet someone new felt like a knife to the chest. I knew she hadn't meant anything by it. I knew she was coming from a place of love and concern, but I was happy where I was in life. I was content living here. Anywhere else felt wrong. Just existing in a world without him in it was hard enough, so that's why I chose to move here after graduating. In his hometown where I could feel close to him.

"Don't be sorry, Alice. I'm just… not ready for anything new." I reached across the small table that sat between us and gave her arm a soft squeeze. I talked about Hayes often, just as she did her late husband Joe. Bittersweet memories of the past that almost seemed imaginary to us now. We laughed and cried together, but mostly we just listened while the other reminisced.

I kind of like to think that she was meant to move in next door to me. That we were meant to cross paths at some point in time and become friends.

"And there's nothing wrong with that." She placed her palm over the hand I had on her arm. "I just want you to be happy, Wren. You deserve to be happy."

My mouth tilted upward as our eyes connected in an exchange of emotions. She was once like me, a young woman who had given her whole heart to a man who had left her too soon. She understood the sheer pain of losing someone and how much courage and strength it took to finally find peace again. When I looked at her, I didn't just see the sweet but quirky old lady who lived next door, I saw someone who recognized me.

Without judgment.

"I am happy. I promise. Who needs a man when I have you?" I teased, lightening up the mood with a soft chuckle and smile.

"Oh, there's nothing special about me. I'm just the crazy neighbor who prefers plants over people."

She had to know that I saw her as so much more than that. Was she a little crazy? Yes, but I think everyone had their moments. And preferring plants over people? I did too. If anything, she and I were the same.

"And I prefer you over people."

We continued going back and forth for a while and before I knew it, an hour had passed. With my stare focused on a falling leaf, I noticed a black SUV pulling into my driveway. I recognized it immediately.

"Having some company over tonight?" Alice asked as I watched Shelia exit her car and wave her hand hello in my direction.

"Apparently." I laughed and pushed myself out of the chair. "You going to be okay if I go?"

With the swat of her hand, she motioned for me to get off her porch.

"Oh shoo, I'll be fine. If I need you, I'll call." Her sass caused a burst of chuckles to fall past my lips.

"All right, all right." I laughed some more while slowly retreating down her front steps. "If I don't see you later tonight, I'll see you tomorrow." Peering over my shoulder, I looked back at Alice as she slowly lifted herself out of the chair. I sauntered across her lawn and over to mine where Shelia was standing next to her car holding a leaning tower of Tupperware.

"Hey, I didn't know you were going to stop by tonight," I announced while offering a helping hand.

"I didn't either, but I made a bunch of baked ziti that Greg and I will never finish and thought you might like some."

"Well, you thought right. I haven't had dinner yet and I'm starving." Taking the top two containers from her, I began to walk toward the front door of my house with Shelia following behind.

"It should last you a couple of days if you don't feel like cooking anything for lunch or dinner."

Using one hand, I opened the door and stepped inside.

"I haven't had a chance to get to the store yet, so this is perfect." I beamed while we both removed our shoes and made our way into my quaint little kitchen. Along the way, I couldn't help but swell in pride as we passed by the wall of photos.

With the help of Greg and Shelia, this place went from looking like a complete dumpster fire to something that made my heart flutter every time I stepped foot inside. From the neutral colors of the walls to the small little touches we added to every room, it finally felt like home.

"Well, I know how you feel about cooking." She chuckled. "I figured you'd be taking a break from using the oven anyway."

A few weeks ago, after catching my dinner on fire and having the fire department show up, I swore off using the oven and stove for a while. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of that night, so for now, I've been making crappy microwaveable meals until I found the courage to use it again.

"I think it's cursed." I frowned and shot a brief glare at the GE Appliance. "I've had issues with it ever since I bought it."

Shelia smiled.

"Issues?" She chuckled while setting the containers on the counter. "Hence why I'm apprehensive to use it again." I laughed along with her as I rummaged through the cabinet for some bowls. "I've had nightmares about it spontaneously turning on and exploding. If oven-phobia is a thing, I definitely have it."

Pulling two bowls from the top shelf, I brought them over to the center island where I silently offered to fill one for her, but she shook her head and whispered, "No, thank you."

Nodding, I used a spoon to transfer over the pasta to my bowl.

"Well, I don't blame you," she agreed on a laugh while pulling out a stool and sitting down. "If I almost burned our house down, I'd have nightmares too."

Smiling, I slid my bowl across the counter and took a seat next to Shelia.

"So, where's Greg? I was surprised to see he wasn't with you," I asked while filling my mouth with a savory bite of saucy noodles and cheese.

"He fell asleep on the couch after dinner." She chuckled on a grin. "You know how he gets after eating. Always thinking he needs a nap after a meal."

Smiling, I shoveled another bite into my mouth and peered over at the woman beside me. For a second, I found myself lost watching her.

Physically, she was the same, just older. Soft age lines covered her face while her once golden hair was now a mixture of gray streaks and muted blonde. But I hardly paid any attention to her aging. Twenty or eighty, Shelia would always be beautiful.

Now when I looked at her, I only saw strength. I saw the resilience of a mother and how she overcame something that could have easily broken her down. In her own turmoil and grievance, she guided me through my own suffering. We cried together. Listened to one another. And during those agonizing years of confusion and acceptance, we formed a bond that was now unbreakable.

She was my family.

Greg and Shelia both, and I couldn't bear the thought of ever leaving them. It felt like a sledgehammer to the chest, so I quickly shook off the thought before it became any more painful.

"How's your writing going?" she asked. "I haven't seen you post anything for a while now."

My cheeks immediately went hot. Shelia knew about my blog since the day I started it. She encouraged me to write and after months of contemplating, I finally did it and I haven't looked back since. I poured my heart and soul into what I shared with the world and unbeknownst to me, there were thousands of other people out there who had felt the same. Grieving spouses, heartbroken mothers and fathers, they somehow found my stories and began to share their own anguish. Blue's Words , I had named it. A space where I'd share memories, or thoughts, and others could share their own.

It became a safe space for many. Free of judgment, we all just wanted to be heard. To tell our stories. To keep the memory of our loved ones alive.

"Um, it's going okay." I chuckled as I set my fork down. "I've been struggling a bit with what to write next, but I'm sure I'll be able to think of something soon."

Giving me a brief smile, she rested her hand on top of my arm and gave me a squeeze.

"I'm sure you will." She squeezed my arm once more. For a minute, she appeared to be lost in thought. With her stare heavy on the profile of my face, I prepared myself for an onslaught of emotions. "I'm so proud of you, you know?"

My throat hardened from her words. Her beautiful eyes glistened with tears and immediately I looked away before I erupted myself.

"Stop. You're gonna make me cry." I laughed, feeling a single tear slide down the curve of my cheek and down my chin.

"I am, though. I am so proud of all you've done and accomplished," she continued. "Greg and I are so thankful and so proud to be a part of your life, Wren. You have no idea how much we love you."

It hurt too much to cry. Nearly a decade of my life was spent with red-rimmed, sore eyes and although right now these were happy tears, it was still painful.

"Shelia…" I shook my head in hopes she would stop, but instead she reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers.

"Trust me, I didn't plan on making us both cry when I came here tonight." She laughed through her tears, causing my hazy eyes to meet hers. "I just… I wish I could go back in time, when you were the lost twenty-two-year-old girl, or the mad-at-the-world twenty-six-year-old, and tell her just how proud of you I was."

My heart clenched in the worst possible way.

"You let us into your life when you didn't have to, and we know…" She choked up. "We know we aren't your parents, but we will always love you like you are ours."

Dropping my head, I inhaled deeply.

"Always, Wren. And Hayes."

My head instantly lifted.

I'd seen Shelia smile many times. I'd seen her sad and every emotion in between but the way she was looking at me now nearly knocked me off my axis.

"Hayes would be so proud of the woman you've become." She tried to smile, but it fell short on a cry. "Not would be, he is. I know he is… So proud, Wren."

My lip quivered.

My eyes burned with the tears that desperately wanted to fall as I held tightly onto her words the best I could without falling apart. Though it was nearly impossible, I managed to close the distance between us and throw my arms around her in a hug. The expression on her face, the heartrending sound of her cries, I couldn't take it.

We had held on to each other for the longest time. Soaking in the importance of this moment and what it meant to us.

What we had overcome and the hurdles we were still overcoming.

"He'd be proud of you too, you know," I whispered. "He'd be proud of both you and Greg."

She didn't say anything in return, but she didn't have to.

The steady drops of tears on my shoulder was all the response I needed.

Hours later, we were officially full of pasta and hanging out in the living room when Shelia spoke.

"Okay, I lied," she broke the silence over a Dove commercial. Immediately my brows clashed together as I shot a confused look in her direction. "I didn't just come over here to drop off some leftovers."

Her shoulders fell sluggishly as she refused to make eye contact with me.

"Okay." I laughed. "Then why else did you come here?"

Bringing my legs up onto the couch, I watched as she gnawed profusely on her bottom lip. With her lack of eye contact and constant fidgeting, I could instantly sense her uneasiness.

Frankly, her uneasiness was beginning to rub off on me and I knew within seconds of her not responding, I had to react. So quickly reaching for the TV remote, I pressed down onto the power button, forcing her to finally glance over at me.

"I…" she began, but then suddenly stopped as she took a deep breath in. Whatever it was she wanted to tell me had her stressing.

Heart hammering, I smiled at her in reassurance.

It couldn't be that bad, right?

"I… I'm just going to say it. Greg and I need your help, Wren."

My heart sunk imagining the worst. Was something wrong with Greg? Or could there be something wrong with her? Every and any scenario you could ever imagine was currently playing my head and wreaking havoc on my already pounding heart. I couldn't even process what she said, let alone speak.

"Wren." She snapped me out of the trance I was in. "It's nothing bad, I promise. I should've clarified that before I said we needed your help."

Sighing in relief, my shoulders slowly sagged along with the racing tempo of my heart. If thinking the worst was a sport, I'd be a professional athlete.

But could you blame me?

"No, it's okay." I shook my head, trying to let her know it wasn't her fault for causing a mini panic attack. "But whatever you need me to do, I'll do it."

Thinking I would get one of her signature smiles, I did, but it didn't reach her eyes. If anything, she looked hesitant to tell me.

"You will? Without even knowing what it is, you'll do it?"

Chuckling at her ridiculous question, I nodded.

"You could ask me to unclog your toilet and I would do it."

Shaking her head on a chuckle, she massaged the spot in the center of her forehead.

"Well, that makes me feel a little better about what I have to ask you to help us with then."

Oh boy.

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad."

Right?

Sighing, she smiled once again. Somberly.

"I came across a video on Facebook the other day." Her voice sounded distant. "I don't even know why I felt the need to watch it, but I did."

Confused, I waited silently for more.

"You know, it's been almost ten years since I've watched hockey?" Her gaze was set on the black screen of the TV in front of her. A look I couldn't decipher was spread across her face as both her hands intertwined in the center of her lap. "I couldn't stomach it. The pain it gave me was… unimaginable."

And just then, unwanted memories came flooding in. Without warning.

A hand, but it wasn't just any hand.

The most warm, inviting hand was waiting for me to grab onto as I hesitated to step out onto the ice in front of me. I was nervous. Beyond nervous, but I knew I was safe. With him, I would always be safe.

Then placing my hand in his, he slowly walked us out onto the ice.

"You got this, Blue. I'll be holding your hand the whole time."

Fuck.

Don't.

Don't cry.

Shaking off the memory, I refocused my attention back on Shelia.

"It was a hockey game. The Orchids against some other team. I wanted to scroll past it, and I almost did. But something told me not to."

I had no clue where this story was going, but something deep inside my gut told me I wouldn't like it. Whatever it was, it began to twist and pull at my stomach until I had to rest a hand over my aching belly.

"Near the end of the video, one of the players was hit pretty hard. He wobbled around a bit, holding his shoulder, and I waited for him to get pulled off the ice. But he didn't."

She laughed, but the tone and richness of it was completely off. Like she was on the verge of crying but something stopped her.

"He went right up to the player who did it and pushed him flat onto his ass."

As if replaying the video in her head, she continued to softly chuckle to herself. I couldn't figure out what about it was so funny. Or why she was even telling me this story. But right before I could ask her what this had to do with me helping them, she opened her mouth.

"That's when I knew." She smiled. "A mother's instinct is never wrong, even if he isn't mine."

Sucking in a breath, I almost couldn't believe what had just fallen from her mouth. She didn't flat-out say his name, but she didn't have to. I already knew.

"Shelia…"

"I can recognize that temper from anywhere, you know?" Her sad eyes found mine as I tried to regain my breathing. "How it takes him a second to react. Like he's arguing in his head about what to do, but we all know what he's going to do." It didn't take long before her eyes turned glassy and a single tear streamed down her face.

I hated him.

Or at least, I tried to hate him.

In my eyes, only a coward would leave their family and the people they love without saying goodbye. Ten years with no contact. Ten years without a call, a letter, a text, anything. It was like he fell off the face of the earth.

We all knew he was a big shot NHL player now, not that I kept track of him or anything. It was hard to miss when his name was brought up constantly in the news and on social media where old classmates and friends would praise their former hockey god.

Greg and Shelia even tried reaching out multiple times. Whether it was a call or a handwritten letter, they never gave up hope. I could remember them watching some of his first professional games and seeing the excitement and joy on their faces. They were so proud of him at that moment.

Tears and all, I knew just how badly they wanted to be there, cheering him on and supporting him. But I understood why they never went. They didn't want to disrupt his life, so instead they watched him from afar. They saw him as family, as a son. It killed me knowing that they were hurting because of him.

They held on to the hope that someday he'd reach out but as the years passed, that hope dwindled.

As if losing one son wasn't enough, they simultaneously lost the other.

"I miss that boy more than you can comprehend."

A painful tug on my heart caused my eyes to slam shut.

"I know you do."

Though it wasn't a topic we discussed, I knew just how much it pained them knowing that Mal was no longer in their lives.

"And I don't blame him for leaving. He was hurting just like we all were and wanted that pain to go away."

I had understood that. Hell, even I wanted to leave at times to get away from it all, but I couldn't. Leaving here felt like I was leaving Hayes.

"We all wanted the pain to go away, but he chose to run away from it instead of dealing with it."

I tore my eyes from hers, feeling guilty for admitting my true feelings, but I couldn't help it.

"He did," she said softly. "But that doesn't make him any less of a son to me. We all make mistakes and we all deal with things differently. Even grief."

Peering down into my lap, I took a deep breath.

"And you think he's still grieving? Ten years later?" I questioned.

There was a short pause as if she needed time to think. Then on a sigh, she answered.

"I think he got caught up in his new life and never properly mourned the loss of Hayes. And at this point, reaching out seems beyond the bounds of possibility."

It still wasn't an excuse for him to cut them out of his life completely and it was something I don't think I'd ever understand. He could give me a million reasons why he decided to leave, and none of them would be reasoning enough.

"Leaving is one thing. And I'm happy that he was able to make a career out of playing hockey, but for him to alienate himself the way he did, without so much as a goodbye and for so long…" I shook my head as my anger began to flare. "I don't think it's a matter of it feeling impossible to reach out but more so that he doesn't want to."

"Wren…" Shelia said somberly, and instantly I wished I could take back what I said.

I wanted her to have hope that one day Mal would realize that he made a huge mistake but I was afraid that the day would never come.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it in that way… I just…" I shifted my legs on the couch and finally met her stare again. "I'm worried that he'll never realize the mistake he made and I don't want his actions or reasoning to cause you any more pain."

Sadness washed over her face and I hated it.

"I told myself I was going to wait to ask you. At least wait until Greg was present, but I need to get it off my chest before I go insane."

My chest sunk.

Worry plagued me, especially seeing the apprehensive look in her eyes.

"Okay." I nodded while swallowing down the painful lump in my throat.

She then took a long, steady breath in and out as if she needed a moment to prepare.

"We need your help, Wren. To get Mal back home," she said on a single breath. "I can't let another ten years go by without seeing my son. I feel like a part of me is missing and every day I regret not going to him when I knew he needed us." Her eyes slammed shut like she was in pain.

Immediately, I sprung off the couch and took the spot next to her.

"That's why we need you." She reached for my palm and held on tightly. "I saw how he was with you at the hospital that night. I saw a side of him that night that I've never seen before and I have a feeling if he were to see you again, he would listen to you."

My heart rate began to take off as shock engulfed me. It all hit me at once, the idea of seeing Mal again, talking with him, reliving the past, it made me want to vomit.

"Shelia… I…" I began to stutter through my words, not quite knowing how to react or what to say.

"I know, Wren. I know. You don't need to answer now. You don't need to say anything. I just needed to get that out in the open." She squeezed my hand reassuringly as a somber smile curled on her lips.

The word yes was on the tip of my tongue. I wanted so badly to say it but as if I had smacked directly into a wall, every doubt, every fear, came rushing in, causing me to freeze up.

"Shelia… I want to, I just… I don't…"

Fuck.

I was severely screwing this up.

"Shhh, it's okay. Let's just forget I asked, okay? Greg and I will talk it over and figure something out." She tried putting my mind at rest, but how could I?

There was no way I could ever forget this conversation and the obvious torment both Greg and Shelia were living with on a daily basis. It nearly destroyed me to hear that. Now she had it in her mind that the only way to get him was through me.

How was I going to persuade a grumpy, pissed-off-at-the-world hockey player who I highly doubted ever wanted to see me again? Chances of success were little to none, but I couldn't tell Shelia that.

With her hand still wrapped in mine, she went back to watching TV as if nothing ever happened. And me? I was still dealing with the shock of it all by staring intensely at her side profile.

"Shelia…" I went to say again, but she cut me off with another firm squeeze of my hand.

"It's okay, Wren. Promise."

The rest of the night she never brought it up again. Even though I felt the need to bring it up every chance I had, I didn't. I was still processing it myself. Once she left to go back home, I opened my computer.

For a while I just stared at the screen. A blank page of my blog that had yet to have any words on it. I needed something new to write about. Something different to my other entries, and all at once, it had hit me.

And on a final, much-needed breath of air, I began to write.