Chapter Fourteen

CHRISTMAS MORNING started off pretty great.

Ethan had gotten Riley a jersey from Martin Brodeur’s junior hockey team back in Canada—the St. Hyacinthe Laser. Riley was so excited, he kissed Ethan in front of his entire family, and they all smiled and pretended they hadn’t noticed how both boys turned bright red afterward.

Riley got Ethan a pair of tickets for the New York Rangers versus the New Jersey Devils game the next day, which was the night before they had to leave to go back to Jacksonville. They were glass seats, which made Ethan squeak. Then he kissed Riley in front of his family—a little more exuberantly—enough that his mom cleared her throat and Britt threatened to film them on her phone and put it on YouTube.

Then his mom opened Riley’s gift, which was an envelope that read simply “The Kennedy Family” and had a red bow affixed to it. In it was a simple note, explaining that Riley would like to make his family’s jet available in the spring, as well as a suite at the Ponte Vedre Inn in Jacksonville, at some dates that worked best for the Kennedy family—so they could come and see Ethan play. Riley also noted that he was going to reserve the suite during the week of the Kelly Cup Finals, because he intended to make sure that the Sea Storm would be playing in them.

She looked confused and then said they couldn’t accept such an elaborate gift. Ethan interrupted and said, in a tighter voice than he meant it to be, “It’s all right, Ma. Riley’s family is loaded.”

His mother hugged Riley, and so did his sisters, while Ethan sulked into the kitchen to do the dishes. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t. Except he was, and he shouldn’t be. Fuck it. He just wished he could do that for his family! And maybe he could have, if he didn’t smoke and buy his boyfriend expensive presents. Great. Now he’d ruined Christmas. Why couldn’t he just thank Riley and let it the fuck go?

His mom came into the kitchen while Ethan was scrubbing the pancake griddle.

“I think Riley’s upset,” she said. “And so is that pan. What did it do to you besides provide you with a delicious breakfast?”

“Sorry,” Ethan snapped and slammed it down. “Sorry I’m not perfect. Okay? And I’m not—whatever,” he muttered in a snit, and he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and went out onto the fire escape—just like he used to do when he was a petulant teenager who lived at home.

His mom came out a few seconds later, wrapped in a coat. “Give me one of those,” she said, holding her hand out.

Ethan stared at her, shocked. “Huh? What? No. You’re my mom. You can’t smoke.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ethan Patrick Kennedy, what have I told you about pretending I’m a saint?”

“That we’re Catholic and we have enough of them?”

“Exactly. Now give me one.”

Ethan gave her one and lit it for her, because he was in a mood, but he was still a gentleman.

“Ethan, I have to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it.” His mom took a drag of her cigarette and gave him a stern look. “I’ll understand if you want to yell at me. But remember, it’s Christmas.”

“Ma,” he said, embarrassed, and ducked his head. He sighed. “What is it?”

“Your father paid for your hockey equipment.”

“What?” Ethan stared at her. “My who?”

“Your father. You do have one.” His mom exhaled again, and she did so with such ease that it was clear it wasn’t the first time she’d smoked. Ethan was suddenly curious about his mother and the life she lived before meeting his father. Had it been a happy one? Seeing her as a person instead of his mom was weird… but cool too. “I couldn’t afford it, Ethan. And it was so good for you, honey. It gave you—it made you happy, and I wasn’t going to let that be taken away from you because we didn’t have the money.”

Ethan swallowed hard past the sudden lump in his throat. “You shouldn’t have done that. I know you didn’t want anything to do with him. It wasn’t worth it.”

“Ethan,” she said, her voice choked up. Ethan didn’t think he’d ever seen his mother cry before, but he was pretty sure he was going to. “Sweetheart, I’ve never told you this before because I never…. It’s not that I don’t want you to know. It’s just that I haven’t found a time where it made sense to get into all of this. But I think this is a good time.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, briefly, and rubbed his back before continuing.

“He hit me, Ethan. It was the first time, I’ll say that much, but the thing is, honey, I come from a long line of women where the first time is never, ever the last time. Because no matter what a man does to you, it’s not as bad as being alone raising three kids.” She exhaled and looked up at the smoke as it rose toward the gray, December sky. “He used to say that all the time. In case I might forget.”

Ethan suddenly wanted to be on the ice in the middle of some heated rivalry game where he could skate up to some other guy and punch him in the face. Except no. He didn’t want that at all. He wanted to go up to his pitiful excuse for a father and punch him in the face. The fact that his mother took anything from that bastard after he left, especially for Ethan, made him so mad he couldn’t breathe.

His mom started rubbing his back again, like she did when he was upset or sick as a kid. “Honey, I know. Listen to me, before you say anything. Your father hit me, and I fell on the floor. And you, my little fierce Ethan, you immediately came in the room to see what was wrong. And I was lying there on the floor with my hand on my face, and you said, ‘Mama, are you okay? Is everything okay?’

“And your father looked right at me and said, “Maura, tell the boy everything is okay.” And I almost did it, Ethan. I almost told you to go back to your room. To go check on your sisters. Something. But I thought about every woman in my family who’d told that lie, and how it wasn’t okay and it never would be. And I thought—” His mother started crying, but angrily dashed at the tears and kept talking. “I thought, ‘If I say it’s all right, then he’ll believe me. And what have I taught him? That his mother is weak, that she’s afraid?’ Your father hit me because he was weak. Because he was afraid. So I didn’t let him bully me. I fought back—just like I knew I wanted you to fight back. Or your sisters.”

Ethan stared hard at his hand, his tattooed knuckles clenched tight around the cigarette, and let her finish her story.

“So I stood up, and I said, ‘No. It’s not okay, Ethan.’ And then I told him to get the hell out of my house and leave me and my kids alone. And do you know what he did? He laughed and he said, ‘What are you going to do, Maura? You can’t do anything but have babies. Who’s going to take care of you and the kids?’ And you—” She laughed, even though her voice was thick with tears. “—you kicked him in the knee and said, ‘I will. Go away.’ And do you know why you did that?”

“Because my mom’s a badass?”

“Language,” she said, hitting him lightly on the arm. “But yes. You did it because I fought back. And I fought back, Ethan, because of you. You saved my life, and if you think I wouldn’t do whatever I could to save yours, you don’t know your own goddamn mother.”

Ethan looked at his mother for a long moment and took in her narrowed eyes and her chin tilted in defiance. It was like looking in a mirror.

All he said was “Language, Ma.” He reached out, pulled her closer, and buried his face in her shoulder. “I still wish you didn’t have to take his money.”

“Oh, Ethan,” his mother said, voice choked. “You’re as stubborn as I am. Don’t you understand that you mean more to me than anything? I can’t be ashamed of asking him for money, because I’m too proud of what it helped you to accomplish.” She pulled away, wiped her eyes, and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Now do you know why I told you that story?”

Ethan did, but he mumbled something and stared at his shoes instead of owning up to it.

“Nice try. I told you because that boy in there, Ethan? He doesn’t feel sorry for you. He loves you, and he wants to do something to make you happy. Because of what you did for him.”

“I’m not this great of a person,” Ethan informed her, blushing hotly. “I’m really not.”

“You are. Don’t you say such a thing.” His mom leaned her head against his shoulder. “And stop smoking. I brought you into this world, and it was not so you could suck poison into your lungs to hurry your way out of it.” She turned her face up to look at him. He wondered how he’d never noticed they had the same eyes. “Now don’t you think there’s something you need to say to someone?”

“Yeah,” he said, and nodded. “There is.” Ethan put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “Thanks, Ma. For everything.”

“Oh, stop,” she muttered, but hugged him back just as tightly. They sat like that for a long time, and finally she kissed him on the temple and went back inside. Ethan lit another cigarette and looked up when Riley came out to join him. He laughed because Riley trying to fold his tall frame out the window and onto the fire escape was sort of hilarious.

“Hi.” Riley gave him a cautious smile. “I bet you’re mad. I knew you would be.”

“Well, I was. But I shouldn’t be,” Ethan muttered, grabbed him, pulled him in, and kissed him. “Thanks. I’m sorry I acted like a dick.”

“It’s okay. I should have asked you, but I didn’t want you to say no.”

Ethan studied him and then knocked him with his shoulder. “So what if I did? You know, you can argue with me. You being quiet doesn’t mean you’re mad, and me being loud… well, that’s pretty much me all the time.” He grabbed Riley’s arm and pulled it around his shoulders. He was freezing. Jacksonville was thinning his blood.

Riley’s expression became way too serious. “I meant what I said, you know. I would give anything for what you have.”

“Well, you asked for it,” Ethan told him. “Ma’s gonna start sending you e-mails and asking if you’ve done your laundry or balanced your checkbook. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Nope.” Riley gave him that small, happy smile that Ethan liked so much. “Will it bother you if I want to spend every holiday with your family?”

“Do I have to be there?”

Riley leaned in and bit him on the neck. “Yes. Sleeping on the floor wouldn’t be as much fun without you.”

“True,” Ethan said. He smiled and leaned in to kiss Riley and wished they could do something else. “But you know… maybe you should at least text your family and tell them Merry Christmas. Yeah?”

Riley had his stubborn look on again. “I’d rather just make out,” he groused, but he sighed. “I’ll text my sister. Happy?”

“Yup,” Ethan said and climbed in his lap.

“I said you two should talk, not end up in a Cinemax movie,” his mother called from the house.

Riley turned bright red, but Ethan had absolutely no sympathy for him. He wanted two sisters and a bossy mom? That’s what it was like.

“Hey,” Ethan said as they went back into the house. “You know when we go to that game tomorrow and you watch the Devils get their ass kicked by my team?”

“You mean, the game tomorrow where your team loses?”

“Whatever. The Devils suck. But after that maybe you could use your millions to get us a hotel room? I got one more Christmas present for you.”

Riley helped him in through the window. “Oh yeah?” he asked, looking intrigued. “What is it?”

Ethan leaned up and bit his ear gently. “Me,” he said and then pulled back with a very, very smug grin.