Chapter 14

Culver

"I'm really glad you've decided to tag along with me," I say as we walk down the hospital hallway.

"Of course." Hannah gives my forearm a squeeze. "I'm so inspired that you do this. Now that I have more time on my hands, I'd love to volunteer."

"That's great. But I should tell you—it can be hard. Some of these kids are really sick. I'll keep an eye on you, but if you need to get some air, just let me know?"

She thinks about it, then gives a definitive head nod. "I will."

It's been two weeks since our trip to the pool, where she conquered her fear and swam in the ocean.

Which means it's been two weeks since I saw her in the most sexy how is that even legal? bikini I've ever seen. That life drawing class I suffered through came in handy because Caveman Culver committed every detail, every cut out, every glimpse of skin that bikini afforded me to memory while Gentleman Culver remained committed to ensuring Hannah felt safe in the water.

And it's also been two weeks since she told me she was a virgin, and I, uh, offered myself as tribute.

We haven't spoken about it since then, which is fine. I meant what I said—that there is no pressure, and she can take all the time she needs. It's not something to rush into. I'll respect whatever she decides.

And if nothing comes of it, that's fine, too.

Well, maybe not fine, but Gentleman Culver will deal with it the way a gentleman would—by respecting her decision. Caveman Culver will take it out on the weights rack at the gym.

Our friendship is changing. There's no denying that. Even though we don't have to convince anyone that we're married, we are very much acting like a married couple. Possibly a middle-aged, very domesticated couple…but you know what? I'll take it in a heartbeat.

I wasn't lying or exaggerating when I told Hannah I was bad at dating.

I am.

On the ice, I can stare down an opposing team player barreling toward me at full speed, no problem.

But in real life, a date is a pressure-cooker situation for me. I find it hard enough to open up to someone on a deeper level as it is, but over dinner at a fancy restaurant? Forget it. The real me clams up and I go into fun, boisterous mode, which yeah, might be good for a little while, but it never allows for anyone to get close to me because I'm not showing them who I really am.

I'm just not cut out for romance and grand gestures.

But cooking a meal for Hannah and watching her enjoy it.

Or sitting outside on a nice day and talking about life, the kids, the latest annoying thing Doyle has done to irritate someone.

Or rubbing her feet on the couch.

Or holding her in my arms, getting lost in a world of coconutty kisses.

Man, I could do all those things forever.

I glance over at her walking next to me. She's pinned her name badge onto her well-fitted turquoise polo shirt, and I notice I'm not the only one lost in their thoughts, so I stop walking and ask, "What are you thinking?"

"Uh…" Her eyes dart about.

"What? You can tell me."

She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I was actually thinking about Trevor."

"Oh." I need a moment to shift gears from my own thoughts to the sudden topic of my twin. I gesture toward a couple of chairs, and we go over and sit down. "What about him?"

"I was trying to recall what memories I have of him."

"You were nine when he died," I say gently. "You may not have that many. And that's okay."

"I don't have many," she says sadly. "But I do have one. I remember it because it was a rainy summer afternoon—a rare thing around here. Your family was over for a cookout but because of the rain, everyone was crammed inside. Well, not everyone. Trevor grabbed me and we ducked out, just running and splashing about in the rain."

I smile. "That's such a Trevor thing to do."

"We didn't go too far from the house, but we came across a tiny kitten stuck in a small ditch that was rapidly filling with water. Without hesitation, Trevor waded through the mud and rescued the frightened animal."

Warmth fills me because again, that's such a Trevor thing to do.

She brushes her thumb over the top of my palm. "Chester reminds you of Trevor, doesn't he?"

I exhale loudly. "Like you wouldn't believe. Personality-wise, they're like twins. Both strong. Stubborn. Brave. Hilarious. This might sound weird, but sometimes when I look at Chester, I feel Trevor's presence."

She grips my hand tighter. "Feelings are never weird, Culver. They're just…feelings."

"I like that." I take a moment to let that really sink in, resting the back of my head against the wall. "I still miss him like crazy."

"He was your twin. I can't even imagine what that loss must be like."

"Isn't that bad, though?" I ask, frustrated with myself for being stuck in the past and unable to move on. "Shouldn't I be over it by now? He died sixteen years ago."

"I don't think we ever get over losing someone we love. Time doesn't magically erase the pain of the loss." She blows out a heavy breath. "We just get better at learning to live with it."

"Is that how you feel about your mom?"

"Yeah. I still miss her like crazy, too. But now, oftentimes when I think of her, I find myself wondering."

"Wondering?"

"Yeah. How things could have been different if she were still with us. What she'd look like, what she'd be doing. What sort of life I'd be leading. Would I have gone to college? Would I have traveled? Maybe I'd be living in a different state. Or even a different country. So many possibilities…"

She smiles wistfully, and I'm overcome by a strong urge to somehow give her the life she hasn't had a chance to live.

She glances in my direction. "Is Trevor the reason why you come here?"

"Partly."

I know that life isn't fair and everyone experiences trauma, but seeing a sick kid has to be one of the worst things. Trevor was diagnosed with glioblastoma multiforme, an aggressive grade IV tumor in his brain two weeks after our eleventh birthday, and despite all the treatments and fighting so bravely, he passed two months shy of thirteen.

I gently slip my hand out of her grasp and reposition it so that now I'm holding hers in mine. "When Trevor got sick, I spent a lot of time in hospitals. I hated them so much. I swore I'd never set foot in one ever again. But when I joined the NHL, the Boston Bullets would do team visits, and I didn't want to be the jerk who refused to participate. At first, it was tough. Everything reminded me of Trevor. The sterile hospital smell. The sounds. The lighting. But then I hung out with the kids. I saw their bravery in the face of unimaginable odds stacked against them. And then I remembered that side of Trevor. How hard he fought. How he was scared but pushed through anyway."

A single tear rolls down my face.

Hannah pulls out a tissue from her purse and hands it to me.

"Thanks," I say, taking it from her. "After that day, I decided to come back and visit on my own. I couldn't do anything for Trevor, but I could be a small bright spot for these kids. And I'd feel bad if I didn't come. In a way…nah, forget it."

"No. What? Say it."

I twirl the tissue absentmindedly between my fingers. I've never told anyone what I'm about to tell Hannah, and I feel so…so vulnerable.

I look over at her, and she smiles softly, bobbing her head as if to say, It's okay, take your time.

I exhale slowly through my mouth and then say, "I felt like it was a healthy way to honor him."

"What do you mean by a healthy way?"

Another long exhale. "After he died, I…I fell apart. I was missing my other half. And then on top of that, we moved from Comfort Bay to Starlight Cove, so I lost everything I knew. My school, my friends, your family."

"We still stayed in contact."

"We did, but…it wasn't the same."

"I know."

"I was so lost and so desperate to stay connected to Trevor that I…I started changing. I began wearing bright clothes like he used to. I became more outgoing like he was. I even switched from football to hockey because that's what he played. I play defense because that's what he did."

"I…never realized that."

"You were young." I get up and throw away the tissue in a bin. "Mind if we stand for a bit? My hip."

"Oh, sure. Of course."

Hannah stands up next to me, and I lean against the wall. "I missed him so much that I tried to become him. I'm starting to see now that that wasn't healthy. Helps to explain why I'm approaching thirty and have no idea what I want to do after hockey. I've spent my entire life trying to live the life that was taken away from him, and now I…I don't really know who I am or what I want, you know?"

"Oh, Culver." She brushes her hand across my cheek, and I lean into her touch. "I'm so sorry. I feel your pain. I mean, I can't relate to losing a twin, but I do know something about not knowing who you are because you've put yourself on hold."

"You do. I've always admired your strength. You're kind of my superhero."

She smiles and her light-blue eyes gleam under the harsh white hospital lights. "You're kind of my superhero, too."

She lifts onto her toes, and the delicate press she kisses to my lips is like a balm to my soul.

"You ready to go in?" she asks.

I nod, and I take her hand in mine as we head toward the children's ward.

"What do you usually do with the kids?"

"It's different each time, and it depends on the individual child. My approach is to meet them wherever they are. Sometimes, they don't feel like talking, which is fine. I wish them a great day and move on. Other times, we can chat or play a game, or if they're up for it and they have medical approval, we can go for a walk around the hospital grounds. I just play it by ear." I turn to face her. "Remember, if it gets too intense or whatever and you need a break, tell me."

"I will."

We step into the ward, and a nurse walks over to us. "Hi, I'm Melanie. You must be Culver."

"I am. Nice to meet you. And this is my fri—" The word gets stuck in my throat, but now is not the time to get stuck in a what are we spiral. "My friend, Hannah Cooper."

"Hi," Hannah says brightly.

"It's great that you're both here."

I take in the ward. "Looks pretty quiet today."

Most of the beds are empty. All up, I'd say there's about half a dozen kids in here.

"It is," Nurse Melanie says. "But there is one little girl who has been talking about you non-stop all morning." She discreetly points to a bed in the corner of the room. "Her name is Maddie, and she's a huge Swifts fans, in case the Swifts scarf, beanie, bobbleheads, socks, phone case, and bedspread didn't make that clear."

"Bedspread?" That's strange. "I don't remember there being a Swifts bedspread in the merchandise range."

Nurse Melanie smiles. "I saw her and her grandmother sewing it together."

"That's impressive," I say.

"It is. Wait 'til you see how many patches are dedicated to a certain defenseman."

My heart swells at the sweetness. "Okay. I'll start with her."

"Great. I'll be around, so just grab me if you need anything."

"Will do. Thanks, Melanie."

Hannah and I make our way over to Maddie, who has her eyes closed and is muttering something under her breath. It's only as we get closer that I can make out what she's saying.

"Just be cool. He's only a person. Just be cool. He's only a person."

"Hi, Maddie," I say softly, not wanting to startle her.

"Hi, person. Oh, no." Her hands fly to her mouth in horror. "I mean, Culver. I mean, Mr. Palladino."

I smile warmly. "You can call me Culver."

"Really?" Hannah chimes in beside me. "Because person does have a nice ring to it." Maddie giggles, and the awkwardness vanishes. "Hi, I'm Hannah. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too."

I rest my hands on my knees to admire the bedspread. "This is amazing," I say, blowing out a soft whistle.

"Do you like it?"

I look up at Maddie and smile. "I love it. Did you make this?"

She nods proudly. "With my grandma."

"Grandmas are the best, aren't they?" Maddie nods, and I can feel her nerves melting away. "Hey. I don't suppose…nah, forget it."

"What?" she asks, inching forward. "What were you going to say?"

"It's silly."

"Most things he says are," Hannah adds, prompting another giggle out of Maddie.

"What I was going to say was, if you had a sharpie, I could sign it for you. If you want me to, that is?"

"I would loooove that."

She doesn't have a sharpie, but Nurse Melanie gets one for us. After I sign her quilt, the three of us sit and talk about hockey, Maddie's favorite movies, how she doesn't like school but now that she can't attend, she misses it.

We gather in closer so she can show us some of her favorite TikTok videos. They all feature animals doing funny or crazy things—she's a huge animal lover.

We spend almost an hour with her, and it flies by.

"How old are you, Maddie?" I ask.

"Thirteen."

I steal a glance at Hannah. "That's a good age," I say around the lump forming in my throat.

"I'm really sick, Culver." She grabs my hand and blinks a few times. "I'm scared."

"It's okay to be scared. We all get scared."

"Even you?"

I smile. "Yeah, even me. You'll get better." I stop myself. It's natural to want to comfort someone who's sick, but I don't know what her condition is, so I shouldn't have said that. I change tack. "Things that hurt us or are really hard make us stronger. Better. But we have to keep fighting, keep pushing. Even when it's hard."

"Especially when it's hard," Hannah says, taking Maddie's other hand.

"That's right. The important thing is to keep going. Use your fear to your advantage. It's okay to be scared, but don't let being scared be the reason you quit trying."

"I'm going to remind you of that next week when we go to karaoke," Hannah teases.

I turn to Maddie. "Unless it's karaoke. It's perfectly fine to quit that."

Maddie grins. "I like your girlfriend."

"She's not my…" My eyes land on Hannah, and she smiles. "Yeah, you're right. She is pretty cool."

"Not to mention fantastic at karaoke," Hannah throws in, unable to help herself.

I let out a pained groan, which makes them both giggle.

I've been enjoying going along with Hannah's hot girl summer list. Okay, maybe I could have done without the life drawing class, but the rest of it has been fun.

But the karaoke she's got lined up for next weekend?

Hard pass.

I'd rather let spiders crawl over my skin than get up in front of people and subject them to my terrible voice.

And because Hannah loves karaoke, she's invited a group of our friends along, so not only do I get to embarrass myself in public, I get to do it in front of a bunch of people I know.

I'm praying for a miracle to get me out of it, but I don't like my chances.