by Joanne Rock
Somewhere in that little rant, some of Kyle’s anger seeped away. Possibly about the time Ax said he was gifted, whatever the hell that meant.
“You know that’s not true. Remember how I almost failed Advanced Finance?” They’d been college roommates, spending far more time on the ice than they had in the classroom.
“Because you got a girlfriend that semester.”
That was true, now that he thought about it. The class would have been a cakewalk if he’d actually attended.
“I busted my butt to make up for all that material I missed.” He worked hard then and he worked hard now. Didn’t he?
Around them, the noise level on the plane picked back up again now that the possibility of a blowout seemed to have passed. Kyle grappled with the idea that he was a stranger to hard work when he’d devoted hours and hours and whole off-seasons to perfecting what he did best.
Then again, Axel wasn’t the kind of guy to start trouble for no reason. Kyle knew him better than that. Ax wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think there was some truth to it.
“I know, man. And you make a hell of a lot with what you’ve been given. But even with women, you don’t have a lot of experience putting in the time to make a relationship successful. I tried it once and it was tough.”
Standing, Axel clapped him on the shoulder and cleared the trays away, taking them to the flight attendant at the front of the plane. Probably walking away from the conversation for good.
Leaving Kyle to wonder if he should rethink what had happened with Marissa. He couldn’t quit hockey. She hadn’t even asked him to. But maybe, if he dug deeper and worked harder, he could figure out more viable alternatives. Help Marissa see a way that she could be with him and still take care of her mom.
Because being without her now made him realize exactly how much he’d come to care about her. How much he wanted things to work out with her. He’d known even before the game in Pittsburgh that she was too important to let slip away, but he’d gone and done just that.
Sliding his earphones back into place, he turned up the music feeling less like he wanted to hit something and more like he wanted to fix something. He could do the hard work, whether Ax knew it or not.
How would he ever run a successful youth hockey camp if he couldn’t muster strength off the ice as well as on?
Besides, Marissa Collins was worth bringing his A-game.
Now all he had to do was figure out what it would take to win back a traditional, romantic woman… .
* * *
“MOM?” MARISSA PLACED her hand on her mother’s shoulder, careful to wake her slowly. “You have a visitor.”
Brandy Collins had been taking her new treatment for six days. The doctors had warned Marissa not to expect miracles. But she was just grateful to try something different after months of seeing little progress. How could she live with herself if she hadn’t exhausted every possible avenue for her mother’s full recovery?
Now, with Stacy and Isaac waiting a few feet away in the dining room of the big, old house that had been Brandy’s home for the past ten years, Marissa watched as her mother lifted her eyelids.
“Hey, baby girl,” she said softly, the endearment falling easily from her lips as if she recognized Marissa immediately. Her famous voice sounded scratchy from sleep.
“Mom?” Marissa felt a pang in her chest, the fresh stab of hope almost painful after all this time of waiting for any sign of improvement. And her heart was all the more tender in the wake of her breakup with Kyle, her emotions all over the place.
Could she trust herself now—trust her belief that she’d just seen genuine awareness in her mom’s eyes? Or was she simply desperate for some sign of healing?
“Thank you.” Her mother reached awkwardly for Marissa’s hand and squeezed it. Her eyes were clear and focused. Almost disconcertingly cognizant. “Thank you, baby.”
Marissa’s knees wobbled. They might have gone out from under her if Isaac and Stacy hadn’t swooped in to steady her. Adrenaline buzzed while the pair bracketed her, Stacy with a huge bouquet of local wildflowers and Isaac with a new CD of a classic seventies band that Brandy had frequently cited in interviews as one of her all-time favorites.
Was this the moment Marissa had been waiting for?
“Ms. Collins?” Stacy ventured. “How do you feel?”
Brandy blinked. Shook her head as if trying to clear it. When she opened her eyes again, that flash of recognition had vanished. The skin between her brows wrinkled as if she were trying to pull back a memory that wouldn’t come.
It was an expression that Marissa had seen on her mother’s face innumerable times over the past few months. The letdown was sharp, leaving her feeling deflated. Numb.
But there’d been a hopeful moment, right? Her throat closed around a lump, her eyes burning.
“It’s okay, Mom.” Marissa rubbed her mom’s arm to comfort her. And herself. “You’re getting better.”
She had to believe that. Her faith in her mother’s ability to heal had driven her through months of caregiving. But it had zapped her emotional reserves more than she’d realized, leaving her little to offer a great guy when he came along.
Brandy stared at her for a long moment, before her eyes moved to Stacy. She smiled and reached for the bouquet of wildflowers while Marissa tried to recover herself.
“One step forward, two steps back,” she whispered to herself, knowing that recovery would take time.
But she would be there beside her through it all, even if had cost her…so much. Would she look back one day and wonder “what if?” Regret that she hadn’t tried to make things work with Kyle? In many ways she already did.
“Marissa?” Isaac set the CD on her mother’s bedside and moved back a step while Stacy told Brandy Collins all about her new video blog. “Can I talk to you?”
It had been sweet of them to visit, although Marissa guessed Stacy wanted to check up on her after the way she’d lit out of Pittsburgh as if the hounds of hell were at her heels. And they were, sort of. They were named Heartache and Regret, and they bit with a vengeance. But even after a week away from Kyle, she didn’t have any answers for the problems that kept her apart from him.
Now, she moved back a step from her mother’s bed, praying that she hadn’t just dreamed the flash of recognition she’d seen in her mom’s eyes after all this time. Maybe the new experimental treatments would help.
“Sure.” Marissa picked up a silver water pitcher she’d filled for the guests, ice clanking against the sides. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“That’d be great.” Isaac took a glass and waited for her to fill her own. He looked around the dining room filled with her mother’s things. “You must have worked hard to convert this space to accommodate your mom.”
She smiled at the guitars hanging on the walls. The photographs filling every free space.
“If you ever want me to film the room for you and digitize it, we could project the surroundings for her somewhere else, so you could move her anywhere you wanted.”
“Excuse me?” She knew she was sensitive about her mom and the choices she’d made about her mother’s care, so she tried not to let the comment ruffle her feathers.
Kyle had suggested something similar and she hadn’t been ready to consider it. Now, Isaac sipped his water and gestured to the bank of windows overlooking the spring gardens.
“I’m in the graphics business. And we’re improving 3-D technology and multimedia mapping daily, ensuring people don’t have to wear glasses to enjoy a more fully developed environment. I could recreate the look of this room somewhere else if that would prove helpful to you. You know, if you think your mother would be more comfortable in a real bedroom, for example, instead of the dining room. I could film her current surroundings and set up a three-dimensional image—”
“Really?” She frowned even though she could immediately perceive the benefit of such a plan. She hadn’t wanted to sell the house because the doct
ors said familiar surroundings might anchor her mother. But it sure tied her hands when it came to paying for the expensive in-home care visits from any number of medical professionals.
“Easily. The new technology I have coming out is top secret until I get it to market, but I could make it available to you. It would look extremely convincing.” Isaac reached for the CD he’d brought and popped it in a player near the water pitcher. “I can come back with some equipment today, if you want.”
Marissa’s chest tightened again. It was kind of Stacy and Isaac to come in the first place. Visitor traffic had died off months ago. But it was even more kind of Isaac to offer his expertise and a tool to aid in her mother’s recovery.
She’d resisted moving her mom to a rehab facility, where patients were limited on how much they could bring. There’d be no room for her prized possessions. But if at least some of the environment was virtual, she wouldn’t have to hang priceless guitars on the walls of a medical institution. Her mother could have access to more immediate care while still benefiting from the comfort of familiar surroundings, surroundings that could help bring back lost memories and maintain a connection with her past.
If Marissa had known about this before, might she have been less inclined to push Kyle away? Certainly it would have opened up some more options for traveling. But then, maybe she’d allowed herself to be scared off from a relationship too easily. She’d been afraid of the knowledge that she’d loved him, for one thing. While she’d made peace with living in her mother’s shadow long ago, she hadn’t necessarily wanted to reciprocate that dynamic with Kyle. He was a superstar. A strong, talented, amazing man.
And instead of being a strong woman for him, she’d scurried away like a twit, too scared to embrace the possibility of a future for fear she’d end up hurt.
If her mom recovered right now, she’d tell Marissa to stop being a coward. Her eyes went to the other side of the room where her mom lay. She wondered what other advice her mother might give.
Don’t you dare hide behind me, young lady!
The words, so vivid in Marissa’s mind, and yet sounding distinctly like Brandy Collins when she was all fired up, set Marissa back on her heels. Where had that idea come from? By the look of her mom nodding vaguely at something Stacy was saying, Marissa knew Brandy hadn’t uttered them.
They were probably a truth she’d known deep in her heart all along—that she occasionally took shelter from her own life in the shadow of her mom’s, complicit in the helper role she’d always gravitated toward. She couldn’t use her mother’s injury as a reason not to take chances. Maybe she needed to take more responsibility for carving out the kind of life she wanted to have with Kyle instead of waiting for the ideal situation.
Wouldn’t she rather have an ideal man?
Tears threatened, and she didn’t think she could hold them back.
“Uh—Stacy?” Isaac called, apparently seeing the imminent waterworks. “You’d better come here.”
“It’s nothing,” Marissa insisted, not wanting the whole room to watch her weep. But her voice came out squeaky, advertising her emotions all too well.
She’d watched Kyle’s games on TV since she’d left Pittsburgh. He’d played well for an average player, but she knew it wasn’t his top form. Guilt had pinched her, as she knew he was feeling her loss as much as she was missing him. But not until today had she realized how little effort she’d made to work things out with him. Isaac had offered her a small piece of the puzzle—a way to start compromising with Kyle toward a more workable relationship.
But recognizing how emotionally depleted she’d been—running on empty to try to hold her life and her mom’s together—also made a big impact. It hadn’t occurred to her that she wasn’t making the best decisions now, not until she’d felt the deep disappointment after seeing Brandy look at her with recognition for only those few precious moments.
Footsteps clicking across the hardwood alerted her to Stacy joining them.
“Holy moly!” She picked up her pace when she saw Marissa and then frowned at Isaac. “I left you alone for two minutes and you made her cry?” She put an arm around Marissa. “Isaac, you should bring the dogs in from the kitchen. Tink and Belle will cheer her up.”
“That’s okay,” Marissa protested, smiling. “I’m fine. Isaac gave me a great idea. And helped me realize I made a big mistake with Kyle.”
14
MARISSA COLLINS WAS IN the market for a man, a tall, dark and gorgeous man. In fact, she’d set her sights on Philadelphia’s most wanted eligible bachelor.
And this time, she planned to keep the prize catch for herself.
She wove through the partygoers on the patio of a historic Philadelphia hotel, a few patio heaters employed to ward off the chill lingering in the April air. But this was a hockey-going crowd, come to celebrate the city’s division champs, so they didn’t mind a little bite to the breeze. Marissa wore a vintage smoking jacket over her wide-legged trousers, channeling her inner Katherine Hepburn. She could use a little of that Hepburn grit tonight.
In the pocket of her jacket, her cell phone vibrated against her thigh. She never would have heard it, since a DJ played rock-and-roll classics well loved by the locals. She paused by a low brick wall that wrapped around a seating area to retrieve the call. No, the text.
Have u seen him yet?
Stacy must be trolling the crowd, too, both of them in search of Kyle. And if Stacy had attended the event, Isaac must be here, too, as the two of them had been charmingly inseparable ever since they’d met. Stacy had convinced Isaac to help with the filming and editing of Diva No More—the visual component was his area of expertise with his graphics background. She’d insisted he needed more fun and balance in his life after the years of nonstop work on honing his graphics chip. Now the video blog had a look that was polished and edgy at the same time, with supporting parts shot in black and white, edited into Stacy’s irrepressible narrative.
In turn, Isaac had convinced Stacy to film an upcoming edition with a reunion between her and her father, a moment Phil Goodwell was apparently excited about since he grudgingly approved of Isaac Reynolds. He might not have Kyle’s superstar athlete appeal or the Murphy family connections, but Isaac’s business clout was undeniable, and greedy Goodwell would surely find a way to make the most of it. Mostly, Marissa was just happy that Isaac would help Stacy find a way to keep a relationship with her dad while maintaining a few barriers, too. And she liked the idea that Goodwell wouldn’t try anything petty like withholding funds from Kyle’s Full Strength Hockey Camp now that he understood he couldn’t dictate Stacy’s life.
Compatibility counseling for that pair was becoming a moot point in Marissa’s opinion, but Isaac still planned to give the session to Stacy for a birthday gift next month—right after the spa day he’d booked for her. Because no matter how much independence Stacy carved out for herself, she would always have a diva side. Marissa couldn’t help but admire how Stacy had found a niche for herself, an arena where she thrived.
Maybe Marissa could do the same—be there for her mother, but protect a part of her life that was all her own.
Nada, she texted back, peering around the milling crowd made up mostly of season ticket holders but also a few random fans who’d won local contests for the chance to attend the high-end soiree. Proceeds would benefit a Phantoms’ charity.
Marissa was nervous about seeing him, even though she had rehearsed what she’d say. She was like a junior-high girl waiting to ask a boy to dance. And damn it, where had her inner Katherine Hepburn gone?
Have you checked the bar?
Marissa pocketed the phone, thinking that would be the coincidence of all coincidences. The night already felt like déjà vu, between the high-end party and the hockey team strengthening community ties with an outreach event. It felt like the night they’d met. The night she’d tried to land Kyle for another woman and wound up falling for him herself.
No way would he be working the
bar again.
Unless…did Stacy know something she didn’t?
Spinning toward the nearest outdoor counter serving drinks, Marissa saw a young woman with an apron and a ponytail pouring red wine from a decanter. No dice. So, turning in the other direction, she trekked through a few groups of fans and Phantoms’ corporate sponsors to find another bar. Night had fallen, though, and despite the lanterns burning around the courtyard garden, she couldn’t see who was serving the drinks.
Whoever it was, he had quite a crowd. She guessed that meant either a juggling bartender was putting on a show with the bottles, or a player had taken over the post to mingle with his admirers.
Butterflies took flight in her belly, a fluttery feeling that made her breathe faster. It had to be him.
“Excuse me.” She tried to pass a hulking guy twice her size, but her words didn’t carry high enough to the giant’s ears over the doo-wop song playing. “Excuse me,” she tried again.
When the giant turned, she recognized Kyle’s foster bother, Axel Rankin, from the game she’d seen in Pittsburgh. And, of course, the games she’d watched at home on her TV when the Phantoms played in Tampa Bay and Ottawa. Marissa was reading up on hockey in her spare time and now understood the positions better.
“Hello, Axel,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Marissa Collins, Kyle’s…friend.”
The big guy was already shaking her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he returned politely, keeping her hand and tugging her closer to guide her through the crowd. “Let me get you a drink. The crowd is starting to really pile in.”
“Um…” She noticed Axel didn’t have any trouble bypassing the guests circling the bar. “Okay.”
Axel got pats on the back and cheers wherever he went. People raised their glasses and wished him good luck in the play-offs.