Chapter 42

42

Why did some of the saddest days have to be the sunniest?

Georgia placed her sunglasses in her tote and took a seat a few rows back from Jim’s family. Though this wasn’t the church they used for Dani’s service, it smelled the same. Incense, perfume, and tears.

Jim had passed away a few days ago, a day after the Rebels won the first game away in Nashville, but before they lost the second. “Going out on a win,” Debbie had said, though she was crushed he wouldn’t get a chance to see them lift the Cup again.

There had been no sign of Banks on the game broadcasts in Nashville, though she knew he’d traveled with them. (The house was empty when she stopped by to pack up her clothes and Cheddar’s gear, for which the coward in her was grateful.) After Tara had assured Georgia that she didn’t tattle to her husband, she had told her that when a player was injured, they didn’t even sit on the bench or behind it. Instead they spent the game in the press box, which sounded awful. With all that media attention, how was a player supposed to move on? How could he grieve?

Because Georgia had no doubt that was what Dylan was doing now. Mourning his season and his career.

Debbie turned, then left her seat to come see her.

“What are you doing back here?” Before Georgia could offer an excuse, she touched her arm. “Come sit with the family.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. Dad would have wanted you there. We want you there.”

Georgia took her seat with the VIPs, kissed the cheeks of a couple of family members, and listened while Debbie filled her in on who was who. Her gaze arced over the flowers that practically covered the altar.

“There’s one shaped like a hockey stick.”

Debbie smiled. “From the Rebels. Nice of them, wasn’t it?”

“Very.” At Debbie’s raised eyebrow, Georgia quickly added, “And nothing to do with me.”

“Probably your husband. He called last week to ask if Jim wanted to attend the first home game of the series against Nashville. I told him he wouldn’t make it. It was so kind of him to think of us, though.”

Kind, but unsurprising. Her big guy had a big heart.

Debbie didn’t pry about why Banks wasn’t with her today, though the Rebels were playing at home tonight, and he was in town.

“Maybe you should take him up on the offer anyway. Jim would want you to go.”

She chuckled. “Probably, but I’m sure Banks has given them away to someone else. Everyone will want those tickets.”

“I’ll ask him.”

Debbie fussed a little but didn’t protest too much. She wanted to attend the game.

“Everyone is so generous. A new charity gave me this suit along with a personal shopper experience at Ann Taylor. Even had a car pick me up.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“Yeah, there are caregiver support organizations, but they’re more geared towards home help or mental support. They usually consider anything like this as a luxury. Too extra.”

“These things are important, too. And that suit looks good on you. Very sharp. You could wear it at your new job.”

Debbie took her hand. “I’m so glad you came.”

Georgia wished she had her sunglasses on because her eyes felt a touch watery. “So am I.”

After the service, Debbie invited her back to the house for a celebration of Jim’s life. Once seated in her Mini, she sent a text to Banks:

I have a favor to ask. It’s for Debbie Draven, Jim Dixon’s daughter.

Three dots appeared, then vanished. Her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Liar.”

She swiped at a tear. He thought he knew her so well.

“How’s Jim’s family doing?”

“It’s a tough day. They got your flowers.”

“The org never forgets a true fan.”

She knew it was him, but she didn’t push it. “Debbie said you offered playoff tickets to Jim last week. Would you still have them? I think she’d like to attend, but she won’t ask.”

“Of course. I’ll have the ticketing office call her to confirm.”

She smiled. “That’s good of you. I thought you might have set them aside for your family.”

“I told them to stay home. If I’m not playing, there’s not much point.”

He sounded so down that her heart broke for him. “I’m sorry you’re missing the series. How are you holding up?”

“Oh, fine.”

“Now who’s the liar?”

His chuckle was knowing, and she thanked the gods that, at least they had this, a little spark that might one day morph into friendship.

“Any chance you’d let me apologize?” He sounded gruff, but contrite.

“You’re allowed to have a bad day.”

“Georgia, that does not mean I get to use you as my punch bag. That wasn’t fair.”

No, it wasn’t. But she’d forgiven him before she walked out the door.

“We’re good, Dylan. Honestly.”

“Good enough to meet up and talk?”

She bit her lip. She’d love nothing more than to see him again, be his support through this tough time. It was a role she was used to. Caregiver, people-pleaser, background artist.

But that didn’t have to be her function. While she never considered herself second best when it came to her marriage with Banks, neither did she want to use him as a crutch while she figured out next steps. He deserved better than that.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea. We always said it was time-limited.”

“What will your parents think?”

She sighed. “They’ll be disappointed. But I need to stand on my own two feet, tell them what I want. Who I want to be, separate from Dani. You helped me see that and I’m so grateful. You helped me much more than I helped you?—”

“Peaches, that’s not true. You were always there for me, the person I could talk to about anything. That’s it, isn’t it? I’ve been a selfish asshole, making it all about me.”

“No, you haven’t. But you were right when you said I don’t know anything about hockey, about your world.” Flash cards would only get her so far. “We’re in different places, you and I.”

He sounded so resigned when he said, “I hear you.”

He had always been a great listener. She’d miss him terribly, but this would be best for him. He could settle with someone who could give him exactly what he needed, be there for him through this next phase.

On a deep pull of air into her lungs, she reached for the words that she suspected would kill her.

“Banks, I think we should get a divorce.”