Chapter Eighteen
Logan
My mom had called ahead to my dad and he was waiting for us in the driveway when we pulled in. He was practically dancing with excitement and I couldn’t blame him. Even the chance of playing hockey, the chance of getting back in the game, in the life—it was a gift. Absolutely.
But my mom and Dawn were quieter as they stood waiting for my dad to get over his hugging fit. Still happy for me, but not as pure about it as Dad was, and I understood where they were coming from, too.
“The clinic thinks it’s because I’m younger than most of the people they’ve worked with,” I told everyone as we sat in the living room and my dad pressed me for every detail I could remember. “I’m still growing, at least a little, and my body’s still in the building-up stage. So they think that helped. And they say that nerve damage is always hard to predict, and that was one of the biggest problems—I mean, how well could I skate if I couldn’t even feel my foot and it kept flopping around like it was at the start? But that’s—it’s gone. It fixed itself.”
“You fixed it,” my dad said triumphantly. “All that rehab, all the work you put in—it paid off!”
“It’s still early,” I said quickly. Kind of weird that I was worried as much about him being disappointed as about being let down myself. “It might not turn into anything. They want to do more tests tomorrow, and maybe the next day, and then give me some more exercises and get me skating and monitor me really closely while I’m doing all that.”
I probably should have found a way to talk to Dawn about that part in private. “I’ll need to stay here for another week or so,” I told her. “That’s all—I mean, they’ll reassess after the first week. We’ll know more then.”
She nodded. She didn’t seem upset, exactly, but—I don’t know. She didn’t seem anything. For someone who was normally so honest and open and expressive, she was also apparently good at shutting down when she wanted to. Or maybe when she needed to.
“It doesn’t change anything,” I told her quickly.
“Of course it does,” she replied. “And I’m really happy for you. This is more than you could have dreamed, right? That’s great.” She stood up a little too quickly and said, “Bathroom,” as her only explanation.
I watched her leave the room and felt totally lost. Hockey. I was getting hockey back, or at least the chance of it. That was perfect. Dawn was—damn it, Dawn was perfect, too, but a week? Was a week apart going to be that big of a deal? “Maybe she can stay,” I said, mostly thinking out loud.
My mom sighed. “She has her jobs back in Corrigan Falls, doesn’t she? Taking a week off would cost her money. And this could turn into more than a week, Logan. We’re hoping it’s more than a week, aren’t we?”
“Besides, you need to be focusing,” my dad said. “This is a huge chance—it’s a gift, a miracle! You can’t let yourself be distracted. She’s a great girl—lovely girl—but you’ve known her less than a month. You’ve been in love with hockey since you were three years old.”
I didn’t have the words to argue with him. He was right, in terms of the facts. But there was something about what he said that didn’t feel right. I hadn’t known Dawn that long, no. But she was Dawn.
“You’ll have to talk it through with her,” Mom said. “Be honest with her. She’s a tough young woman—give her a chance to show how strong she can be.”
I was okay with the honesty part, but I was kind of worried about Dawn showing how strong she could be. What if she used that strength in a way I didn’t want?
…
Dawn
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. No tears, thankfully. My eyes are generally good at staying dry. But when I tried a smile the face staring back at me looked like it was grimacing in pain.
“Enough melodrama,” I said out loud. So my fairy tale wasn’t going to come true. So what? If I’d been bold enough to give Logan’s mom a lecture about how his injury wasn’t a tragedy, then I had no damn excuse for swanning around acting like his recovery was something earthshaking.
I needed to go back to the living room and be pleasant. I needed to stop thinking about myself and start thinking about Logan. This was his dream. It was a happy, happy day for him, and there was no way I was going to let myself ruin it.
I tried another smile, this one not quite so broad, and I was pretty sure it looked better. Still not full-on joyful—kind of like the Mona Lisa, really. Was it possible that after centuries of mystery, I’d finally figured out what her expression meant? This is what girls look like when their boyfriends leave them behind for the best possible reasons.
I splashed some water on my face, glad I didn’t wear much makeup I’d have to worry about re-doing, took a deep breath, and opened the bathroom door.
I wasn’t prepared to see Logan hovering there in the hallway, waiting for me. “Can we talk?” he asked.
Totally reasonable request, but I was confident I wasn’t going to be able to make it through a heart-to-heart without totally blowing my I’m-so-happy-for-you act. So I said, “Actually, do you have a computer or a tablet I could use? My phone screen is kinda small.”
“Uh, yeah, I can ask my mom. Are you looking something up?”
“Bus schedules. Or maybe the train? I guess I’m probably going to Toronto first and then I’ll make my way back up to Corrigan Falls from there. So the train might be fun; I’ve never taken a train. Have you?”
Logan squinted at me. “I’m sure my dad can still fly you back, even if I’m not going on this trip. Or I can fly back with you, if you want.”
Yeah, he’d need to pick up his stuff. “How did you get there in the first place? With the Jeep—you must have driven, I guess?”
He was clearly getting impatient with my transportation obsession, but the conversation was working for me. Lots of little details, ways to distract myself and not think about anything bigger—just what I needed.
“Yeah, I drove,” he said. “Look, my dad’s already planning to fly tomorrow, and like I said, he enjoys it. He can take you back, and I can come for the ride, if you want. So you don’t need to worry about—”
“What about the camp?” I asked. “I know you thought it was just a make-work project for you, but you should still call and give them notice or something, right? And do you know the times for your appointments tomorrow? You can’t be flying around with your dad if you’re supposed to be getting scanned or whatever.” What else, what else? More logistics, more details. “Is this all supposed to stay a big secret? Everybody’s going to want to know what happened to you—I can make something up, if you want, but we should get our stories straight ahead of time, right? Maybe just keep it vague—medical stuff? Is that what I should tell people?”
He was starting to look a little dazed, which seemed fair considering I was feeling the same way. “Do you have to call the team?” I added, pressing what advantage I had. “And your agent or somebody? Is there financial stuff with your insurance? This is a big thing, right? Who helps you figure it out? Probably your dad? So he shouldn’t be flying around tomorrow, not if you need him here. Doesn’t that make sense? So is there a computer or a tablet or something I can use to look for trains?”
“Maybe you could stay?” he said. “Oliver is hanging out with Mrs. McMann while you’re away—maybe he can keep doing that? And your other jobs could fill your shifts, right?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I need to get back. Responsibilities, y’know?” Like my responsibility to myself to save money for school, and not let myself get sucked off track. “So should I ask your mom about a computer, or…?”
And finally Logan surrendered. “Mom?” he called. “Is there a computer Dawn can use?”
“My laptop’s in the kitchen,” she answered back.
Logan nodded me in that direction. “But don’t book anything. I’ll talk to my dad and look at the appointments, and I bet we can still fly you back. That was the deal, right?”
“The deal’s changed,” I said, and I was pretty sure my Mona Lisa smile was in full force. “It’s a good thing, Logan. Congratulations.”
And I escaped to the kitchen to start searching for transportation back to reality.
…
Logan
We took a cab back to my apartment that night, and Dawn let me pull her in against me in the backseat. When we got to the building, we held hands through the lobby, up the elevator, and down the hall. And she didn’t try to shake free once we were inside my apartment. But I felt like I was hanging onto the shell of her, not Dawn herself.
“Even if I end up staying here at the end of the week, you’ll be moving to Montreal in less than a month.” I tugged on her hand and she turned to face me, but her gaze was focused on my forehead, not my eyes. “And I can come visit, or you can come up for another couple of days—we’ll sort things out. I mean—” The timing wasn’t right, not by a long shot, but the feelings were real and I was beginning to get a bit desperate, like if I didn’t say stuff now I’d never get the chance. “I’m crazy about you. I want you in my life—I want to be in your life—I want us to be a couple, for real. Not just a summer thing. So if I can’t be in Corrigan Falls for the rest of the summer, that doesn’t mean you and me miss our chance to be together. You know? I don’t want to break up with you—we can be long distance for a few weeks, can’t we?”
Her smile was sweet but kind of sad, and when she stretched up and kissed me it felt more like good-bye than I wanted it to. “Let’s not worry about it,” she said. “You’ve got a busy week, and your dad’s right—you should be focusing on that. There’s no point in us trying to figure out the future when we don’t even know what’s going on. I mean, the doctors are still doing more tests—they don’t know anything for sure, yet. So we can’t make any real decisions.”
“Yeah, we can,” I insisted. “We can decide this isn’t a big deal. I mean, it’s a big deal for me—for my career. But it’s not a big deal for us. For you and me. Either way, we can still be together, right?” It should have been obvious, but I needed to hear her say it. And it took her way too long to answer.
Finally, she said, “I’ve already been a hockey player’s girlfriend.”
“What? We’re not all the same person, you know! You’ve already been Toby Cooper’s girlfriend. That’s all. And I don’t know what went wrong with you guys—I mean, I kind of get it, but not really—but I do know that I’m not Toby. If he made you feel like you were, I don’t know, not important or something that doesn’t mean I’ll make you feel that way. Whatever he did, or didn’t do—”
“It wasn’t Toby’s fault,” she said. Her voice was so small I leaned forward a little, trying to be sure I caught everything she said, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it. “It wasn’t Toby, it was—it was the world. As soon as I started going out with him, that’s all I was. Toby Cooper’s girlfriend. The hockey player’s girlfriend. And the worst part of it?” She shook her head. “I bought into it, too. Nobody else was interested in me for myself, and after a while I forgot there even was a me for myself. I was an accessory. An assistant, someone working to make sure that nothing distracted Toby, nothing upset him on game days, nothing got in the way of him meeting his damn destiny and getting to the NHL. I believed all that crap, Logan!”
“But—” I struggled to put my thoughts together. “You know better now. You’ve learned from that, right? So you can do things differently, now.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’ve learned. I’ve learned that it isn’t good for me to have a boyfriend who’s a serious hockey player.”
We both stood there for a moment, absorbing those words and what they might mean. “You can’t expect me to choose,” I whispered. “You can’t expect me to give up hockey.”
Her eyes widened. “No,” she said, and I could tell she’d honestly never even considered the idea. “You love it. It’s part of who you are. I know that; I’d never expect—” She stopped, then snorted almost bitterly. “I’d never ask you to choose because I know damn well what you’d pick. Hockey’s your dream. I get that. And you thought you’d lost your dream but now maybe you haven’t, and that’s excellent, Logan. I’m really, really happy for you. I am.” She stretched for another kiss, this one a little longer, a little deeper.
Then she said, “We don’t need to sort through all of this tonight. We don’t have the facts, right? There’s no point trying to make decisions when we don’t even know what’s going on. Your dad’s flying me back tomorrow—you win on that one. So for now, for tonight, can you let me win? Can we not talk about hockey, just for tonight? Can we pretend it’s only you and me?”
Well, that was hard to argue with. So I let her kiss me again, and I let her work her cool hands in underneath my shirt and then down to my belt, and then a hell of a lot farther. It was our second night together, and I wanted it to be the beginning of a long, long tradition, and I tried to focus on that. Tried to figure out ways to show her how special we could be, to convince her we were worth fighting for.
But through it all, as sweet as she was, as generous and hot and perfect, I got the feeling she’d made up her mind just as clearly as I had. I got the feeling that while I was trying to start something new, she was saying good-bye to something she’d already given up on.