13. Anthony

During my rookie season, my team went on an awful four-game road trip. Everything that could go wrong did. We lost all four games, and we only managed to even get a lead in one of them. A lead we blew early in the third period before giving up an empty net goal for good measure. Two of the games had been shutouts, and the fourth had been 7-2. By the time we were on our way home, three players were day-to-day, one was going on LTIR, and one hadn’t even been able to make the flight home because the hospital wanted to run some more tests (he did ultimately recover, but he was in a world of hurt that week).

I didn’t think I’d ever be more eager for a road trip to end than I was after that absolute shitshow of a week.

Turned out I was wrong, because holy shit, I was so fucking relieved to see my own driveway coming into view. The drive from the airport had taken a solid forty-five minutes (Seattle traffic was so fun), and Simon and I hadn’t said two words to each other the entire time. We’d roomed together, and then we’d sat together on the plane to keep up appearances, though fortunately we’d both slept for most of the flight, so we hadn’t had to interact much. By the time we’d reached his car and could finally drop the illusion that we were still in the honeymoon phase, I suspected he was as worn out as I was.

Early morning post-redeye drives had been full of sniping for a while now. Anything that had been brewing while we were traveling would come out, and we’d be at each other’s throats until we could finally get out of the damn car. Today, though… I just didn’t have the energy. And what was the point of fighting? We’d broken up. Our bullshit didn’t matter anymore, so I’d mentally packed it away just like I boxed up and stored jerseys and swag from teams I no longer played for. I wouldn’t say the drive home this morning was fun, but I was definitely happier to watch the familiar scenery go by than argue with him.

I was definitely ready to be away from him, too, and I almost released an audible sigh of relief as he turned down the driveway.

Thank God. Finally.

Simon pulled up in front of the garage door. He opened it but didn’t pull into the bay. With the engine idling, he turned to me and flatly asked, “What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? What time were—

Oh. Right. Thanksgiving was tomorrow. Fuck.

I shrugged. “Russell said we can get there any time after eleven. So… I don’t know. Maybe leave here around ten thirty?”

Simon nodded. “All right. Ten thirty.”

“Okay.” I reached for the door, but paused. “I, um… Wyatt’s coming too.”

He furrowed his brow. “Wyatt? He’s still here?”

“Yes.” I narrowed my eyes, silently daring him to yet again accuse me of screwing Wyatt.

His glare definitely made the accusation, but he just muttered, “For fuck’s sake. And Russell knows he’s coming?”

“Of course he does.” I glared at him. “Look, he’s staying here, and I’m not going to just ditch him for the day, okay?”

“Does Russell know about the dog?”

“Yes, he does. And he’s fine with her coming.”

Simon made a displeased noise. “We’re taking your car, then.”

“Okay.” I was too tired to fight. I just got out, took my things out of the trunk, and shuffled inside. The rumble of his X5’s engine fading into the distance didn’t even make my chest hurt like it usually did. I’d almost always felt like a failure when he left, especially after we’d been fighting in the car. Like I’d tried to sort out our issues but only succeeded in making it worse. Him leaving instead of staying had always left me a mess because it always felt like my fault that we’d been fighting and my fault that he’d rather go back to his apartment than stay here. Every time he left, it seemed like he took another piece of me with him, and that fucking hurt.

Today I was about as emotional over his departure as I would be about a UPS driver driving away. I wondered what that meant.

Probably that I hadn’t had a chance to process our breakup, and once I’d had some time away from him—not to mention some sleep—then it would all sink in and I’d feel like shit. Couldn’t wait.

I trudged into the house. Usually the cats came thundering down the stairs to greet me. This time, there was a quiet thump, then another, and both trotted into the kitchen. Had they… Had they been sleeping in Wyatt’s room?

Hell, probably. They were extra cuddly at night, especially after I’d been gone, so it was no surprise they’d joined him. I was just glad he apparently didn’t mind. If he had, he would’ve shut the door.

I smiled to myself as I crouched to greet my boys. I always felt bad leaving them alone. There was a reason I had someone cat-sit whenever I had to be away for more than a couple of nights, but even these shorter trips made me feel guilty.

“Did you guys miss me?” I asked as they arched their backs and purred. Moose rubbed against my legs. Bear flopped onto this back, and when I scratched his belly, he purred even louder. They were a balm to the soul these days. It was nice to have someone who was happy to see me.

Wyatt didn’t emerge from the bedroom and none of the lights in the house were on, so he was probably still asleep. Fine by me—it was stupid early and I was ready to pass out myself.

I left my suitcase in the kitchen—something I never dared to do when Simon was here—scooped Moose up onto my shoulder, and said, “C’mon, Bear. Let’s go get some sleep.”

He was immediately upright again, trotting beside me as I carried Moose to the stairs. Given that he wasn’t the brightest creature on God’s green earth, he didn’t completely understand physics, so he tried to weave between my legs as I walked up the steps.

“Dude,” I said, trying to avoid him. “Do you want me and your brother to die? Is that it? Because you’re not a beneficiary on my life insurance. It’s not going to be all sunshine and catnip if you murder us.” I almost stepped on his paw but managed to miss. “Cats who kill their dads go to Al-cat-traz. You know that, right?”

He jumped past me, threw himself down on the step, and started rolling around on his back and flailing his huge paws in the air.

I rolled my eyes, steadied Moose, and carefully stepped over Bear. I made it to the bedroom without Bear knocking us down the stairs, and I set Moose on the pillow that had once been Simon’s. I paused, expecting a pang of sadness over that. Simon wasn’t coming back. We were over. That pillow was Moose’s from here on out.

But I felt… nothing. It wasn’t even that I was numb. More like there was nothing there to feel.

Eh. It would catch up with me eventually. I gave the boys a couple of treats, then went into the bathroom to take a leak and brush my teeth. Within minutes, I was sliding into bed next to my cats.

Usually, this was the point when I’d suddenly be wide awake. Exhausted and desperate for a nap, yes, but my brain would start spinning too fast about too many things. It would take a good half hour or more of tossing and turning before I’d finally lapse into restless sleep.

This time, Bear curled up beside me like he always did.

I wrapped my arm around him.

Listened to both cats purring.

And fell right to sleep.

I slept until almost ten,which I hadn’t intended. Felt good, though. Less like I’d spend the rest of the day in that post-redeye zombie state.

The boys didn’t mind, either. Moose was on his back with his tail encroaching on my pillow. Bear was stretched out beside me with a paw over his eyes. I reached down to scratch behind his ear. He didn’t move, but a low, loud purr started up.

I couldn’t help smiling. I loved these rare lazy mornings with the cats. I didn’t even have practice today. We usually played the night before Thanksgiving, but the way the schedule had shaken out, we’d scored three days off. Saturday, we’d be back to it—morning skate and a game against a division rival. Today, tomorrow, and Friday? I could be an absolute sloth.

Except I had promised Wyatt we’d go pick up a few things for him today, hadn’t I? And I doubted he and his PTSD would enjoy the Black Friday crowd if we put it off until after the holiday, so we needed to do this today.

Besides, if I lounged around in bed too long, I’d screw up my sleep pattern, and then I’d be a mess for Friday’s game.

So… fine.

I got up, and I paused to stretch. Neither cat so much as twitched. I chuckled. “Lazy asses.” Then I headed into the bathroom for a shower.

When I came out, though, both cats were gone. That was unusual. They always hung around and waited for me to get dressed. Moose had learned that if he did just the right amount of purring, chirping, and walking around with his back arched, I’d give him treats. Bear had learned that Moose was smarter than him and could con me out of treats. They were both, shall we say, food-motivated.

Which was why it all made perfect sense when I made it downstairs and found the pair of them sitting on the kitchen island, intently focused on the eggs Wyatt was making.

He turned to me and smiled. “Morning. I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Oh, good. Because I kind of spaced out that there was someone here, and I wasn’t exactly quiet.” I grimaced. Nodding at the cats, I added, “They sure heard me.”

“Is that why they both left in such a hurry?” He focused on sprinkling some grated cheese over his eggs. “I kind of vaguely remember them jumping down, but didn’t think much of it.”

“Ah, so they did sleep with you.” I crossed the kitchen to the coffeemaker and pulled a cup from the cabinet. “They didn’t give you too much hassle while I was gone, did they?”

“Pfft. Nah. They were great company.” He offered up pieces of cheese to both cats, having apparently learned it was better to feed them at the same time than play the “but I didn’t get one” game. Moose was a pro at that—gobble up his piece, wait until Bear got one, and then fix pitiful eyes on me as if I’d forgotten to give him one. Manipulative little shit.

As I made myself some coffee, I said, “So, I got a later start than I’d planned, but we still have plenty of time to go out shopping if you want to.”

Wyatt froze and looked at me with wide eyes. “You… really want to do all that?”

“Well, yeah.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t just making conversation. Lily’s got her follow-up with Dr. Green today, you both need some things, and we’re better off going today than this weekend. Since… Black Friday and all that.”

He shuddered, which made me think I was right on the money that he wouldn’t be comfortable in that dense of a crowd. Focusing on his food again, he murmured, “I’d really appreciate it. I just don’t want to, you know…” He turned to me again, his expression bordering on shy. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not.” I paused, then decided maybe some candor would ease his uncertainty. “Listen, back when I played youth hockey, my dad lost his job. All of a sudden my parents could barely afford to pay the electric bill, never mind keep me in hockey gear. There was a pro player who sponsored our youth league, and he not only covered my gear and all the expenses that come with playing hockey, he helped our family out for a few months while Dad found another job. So…” I half-shrugged. “Consider this me paying it forward.”

“Oh,” he said softly, and I was relieved to see him relaxing a little. “Okay, I guess, um… Yeah, we can do that.”

“Awesome.” I smiled. “Let me grab some breakfast—er, lunch, I guess—and then we can go.”