For the Win

by Kelly Jamieson

  I sip my drink as everyone nods.

  “We went out again, but he came on so strong and it made me uneasy, and I told him I didn’t want to see him again. He was pissed. He turned into a stalker, phoning me and texting me, showing up at home and at my work.”

  “That’s so scary,” Everly says quietly.

  “Yeah. It was. He started getting threatening. He slashed the tires on my car.”

  “Oh my God.” Taylor’s eyes widen. “Did you call the police?”

  “Yeah, but they didn’t take it very seriously, even though I told them he was following me everywhere.”

  “Fuck,” mutters Lacey.

  “Then he…” I pause, take a breath, and say, “One night after work I was on my way to the gym and he followed me and attacked me with a knife.”

  Their mouths all drop open in horror. Everly presses her hand to her lips, eyes dark. “Oh no.”

  “I was lucky, someone called the cops. I had a lot of cuts on my arms and hands from trying to defend myself, but I ended up in the hospital.” I haven’t told this story many times, but this time it feels easier. I feel stronger. I straighten my shoulders and attempt a smile. “That’s why I moved here to California. I needed to get away.”

  “He better be in prison,” Everly says fiercely.

  “He is.” I nod. “The trial was short because he pled guilty, but it was still excruciating, and…I’m glad he’s locked up, but still, I wanted to get away from the memories.”

  “You’re amazing.” Taylor reaches out and squeezes my hand. “We had no idea you’ve been through something like that. You’re so composed and…at peace.”

  I make a face. “I don’t always feel that way. But it’s getting better.” My smile is genuine now. “My life is good.”

  “That’s why you don’t want to see Harrison again?” Everly asks quietly.

  I bite my lip, nodding.

  “He’s not like that.” She holds my gaze. “Really. He’s a goof, but he’s a good guy.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” She’s his sister. She knows him. “Don’t tell him about this.”

  Her eyebrows pull together. “Why not?”

  “It’s…a lot to deal with.”

  Her lips push out, her eyes shadowed, but she moves her head up and down in agreement. “Okay.”

  * * *

  —

  Once Janey and I leave, we stand on the sidewalk outside the restaurant while I unlock my bike. I say, “I hope that was okay that we joined them.”

  “Sure! They’re all really nice. It’s fun meeting new people.”

  “Oh good.”

  “Small world, though, that you just went out with Harrison and then meet up with his sister.”

  “I know. I wasn’t sure what to say about that.”

  “Are you going to see him again? I feel like you want to.”

  “I do.”

  She squeezes my hand, her silky black hair blowing in the breeze off the ocean. “You need to do what you’re comfortable with.”

  “Thanks.” We hug and then I set off for home on my bike.

  Taj is out when I get there. I toss my bag onto my bed and pull out my phone. Then I sit on the couch and stare at Harrison’s name and number.

  Chapter 9

  Harrison

  Sunday. Day off. We had a home game Friday night and played in Long Beach last night. Last night’s game was another Beach Barn Battle. I know a lot of the fam was there watching again—Mom and Dad and Théo, Everly and Ash, and Matthew and his wife, Aline. I played against JP again, Mark coaching, obviously.

  We lost, sadly. A loss against the Eagles is always painful, but especially for me, with my whole family watching.

  Mom has texted all of us—me, Asher, Noah, and Everly—and said she wants to get together, so I’m getting ready to head over to Mom and Dad’s place for lunch. I’m dreading what we’re going to talk about. I know if it was good news Mom would have just told us all.

  Ash and I drive together again in his car. He parks on the street in front of the house we grew up in—a big, Spanish-style, two-story house not far from the arena in Santa Monica. Ash and I climb out of his Mazda and saunter up the brick sidewalk to the front door.

  I don’t know about Ash—we didn’t talk a whole lot on the way over here—but my stomach is a churning mess. I’m trying to act cool and unconcerned, like a manly man would. But that’s bullshit, because I’m terrified.

  I’m a twenty-six-year-old man and I’m terrified that my dad is dying.

  I feel like a child again and I hate it.

  We enter without knocking and step into the cool interior, out of the bright sun. “Hello!” I call. The house is quiet. Maybe they’re out back on the patio.

  Mom appears from the kitchen. “Who’s that? Hi, boys.” She smiles but it’s not a happy smile. “Noah isn’t here yet. Everly and Dad are out by the pool. Come on out.”

  We make our way through the house and out the patio doors. The sun sparkles on the turquoise pool, surrounded by paving stones and an immaculate green lawn. Palm trees, shrubs, and flowers line the perimeter of the yard. Dad used to pay a gardener to look after everything, but now he just has someone cut the grass and he looks after the flowers himself. How long will he be able to do that?

  Everly’s face looks as stiff as mine feels, though she’s smiling too. Mom has drinks out here and pours us glasses of lemonade. Ash and I take a seat on the wicker chairs arranged around a coffee table. Dad’s on the big sectional.

  I study his face. Is it my imagination, or does he suddenly look older?

  Christ, this is awful. I’m afraid I’m going to puke. I rub my mouth. “Yard looks great, Dad.”

  He nods. “Yeah. Look at that hibiscus…isn’t it amazing?”

  I don’t know what a hibiscus is, but I agree.

  “Hey Harrison, guess who I had dinner and drinks with the other day?” Everly says.

  I sip my lemonade, hoping my stomach behaves. “Who?”

  “Arya Ross.”

  My head jerks. “Say what? My Arya?”

  She smirks. “Your Arya?”

  “You know what I mean.” My face heats.

  “Yes. Yoga instructor Arya. She said you two went out.”

  I feel my jaw loosening and my heart jolts. “Uh, yeah. We did.”

  “You didn’t pester her into going out with you, did you?”

  My mouth drops even more open. “What? Pester her? Hell no!”

  “Good,” Everly says, with a firm nod. “Because no means no, right?”

  What the hell? My sister is lecturing me on consent. “I know that!” Then I think back on my interactions with Arya. Was I a little pushy?

  “What’s this?” Dad asks. “New girlfriend?”

  “I wish,” I mutter.

  “She doesn’t know if she wants to see him again,” Everly tells Dad. “I guess he didn’t impress her that much.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Oh, I hear someone at the door. That must be Noah.” Mom jumps up and disappears.

  “You didn’t mention this,” Ash says to me.

  “Nope.”

  He shakes his head. “Is she the yoga instructor the team hired?”

  “Yes.”

  “Also the one he dumped in the water,” Everly adds helpfully.

  “Never gonna live that down,” I mutter. “At least she’s gotten past it.”

  Everly laughs. “I put in a good word for you, doofus.”

  I eye her skeptically. She probably told Arya about the time she caught me watching porn when I was fifteen. I’m never going to hear from Arya again.

  Noah and Mom come out, we do all the greeting stuff, Mom gets Noah a drink and he sits down, and…a two-ton hush settles over everyone.

 
Mom looks around and her eyes are shiny, the corners of her mouth tight. “You are the best kids in the world,” she says a little shakily. “I love all of you so much.”

  Jesus. Now I’m gonna cry. “Love you too, Mom,” I choke out, as do the others.

  She glances at Dad, sitting next to her on the love seat, and takes his hand. I never really paid any attention to the age difference between them, growing up. They were adults and I was a kid. But right now, I see it…Mom in her early fifties, still youthful, Dad looking grayer and sad. My chest aches.

  “You know we went to the doctor last week.”

  We all nod.

  “We actually have been to the doctor about this already,” she continues.

  We all frown at each other.

  “A couple of doctors, to be honest.”

  “Mom…” Everly starts.

  Mom holds up a hand. “Let me finish.” Her voice quivers. “I know you all have started noticing problems lately, but I noticed it a long time ago.” She takes in a breath and lets it out. “We were referred to a neurologist. They did a bunch of tests. A lot of them are to rule out other problems. But last week we were told that Dad almost certainly has Alzheimer’s.”

  I close my eyes. I did not want to hear those words.

  “You should have told us,” Everly says quietly.

  “I wanted to be more certain. I’m sorry. I know this is hard and I didn’t want to worry everyone if there was some other reason.” She presses her fingers to her mouth.

  “I’m fine,” Dad says gruffly. “Nobody has to worry about me.”

  But I can tell…he’s worried. Maybe even scared.

  My dad. My role model. The man I’ve always counted on for support and advice and help with anything.

  My throat thickens and I take a quick sip of lemonade.

  Tears are running down Everly’s face. She gets up and goes over to Dad to crouch in front of him. She takes his hands. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I know, Evvie.” He smiles at her.

  I stand too and move behind the sectional. I set my hand on Dad’s shoulder and squeeze. “Love you, Dad.”

  He pats my hand. “I love you too. All of you. Like your mom said, you’re the best kids.”

  Dad has two other sons, and his comment makes us acutely aware that they’re not here and are still fighting with Dad over money.

  I get now why Everly did what she did. Everything else seems stupid and meaningless in the face of this shitty news.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I ask Mom.

  “We have a medication that may help slow the cognitive decline,” she says. “Other than that, we can only take things as they come. We’re exploring options for the future. Dad says he doesn’t want to be a burden on me…or anyone.” Her voice breaks. She leans her head on his shoulder, eyes closed. For a moment, she can’t speak.

  I feel like a hippo is standing on my chest. This fucking sucks for everyone.

  My mom is strong. I know she is. But she always had Dad with her, backing her up. Now she’s going to have to do this alone.

  But she’s not alone. “Mom, we’re all here for you,” I say. “For both of you.”

  “I know.” She lifts her head. “Thank you.”

  I’m filled with emotions battling inside me. I don’t even know what I feel. Anger. Sadness. Denial. Confusion. My father is dying. It’s going to be hell watching him decline, seeing everything he’s losing. And we’re losing him.

  I don’t know if I can deal with this.

  I turn and walk over to the edge of the pool to stare at it.

  I hear the conversation continue behind me….“How long does he have?” “Maybe years. We don’t know what will happen or how fast it will progress.”

  I cover my mouth with one hand, my lungs burning. Fuck.

  I turn back to the group. I meet Ash’s eyes. He and I are twins and we’ve always understood each other without words. It helps to know that he’s feeling exactly the same.

  When Dad goes inside to the bathroom, Mom tells us more.

  “I’ve been driving him to and from work as much as I can,” she says. “I’m not confident about his driving anymore.”

  “Shit,” I murmur.

  “You need to take his keys away, Mom,” Everly says, grasping Mom’s hand. “He can’t drive if he’s a risk to others.”

  She nods. “I know.”

  “Is that why you’ve been at the office with him so much?” Ash asks.

  She frowns. “How do you know that?”

  “Théo.”

  “Oh.” She sighs. “That, and also I need to know what’s going on. He doesn’t remember everything.”

  I slowly move my head from side to side and sink back down into my chair. “Théo’s got things under control, Mom.”

  “Yes, he does. And I’m so glad it’s him. I trust him.”

  She trusts him. Even though his parents have never trusted her. Fuck, she’s amazing.

  “We all trust Théo,” Everly says. “What else can we do, Mom?”

  “I’ll let you know. I will. You all have lives to lead.” She smiles. “I’m happy for you and Wyatt. And you do a great job with the Foundation.” She turns to me. “You keep playing. Your dad is so proud of you.”

  “He is?”

  “Of course. He’s proud of all of you. Ash, you’re such a great writer. Noah…you’re the only goalie in the family.”

  He shakes his head. “Only male goalie, Mom.”

  We all smile at his defense of Riley.

  “Right, of course.” Mom shakes her head. “I meant in the NHL. She’s done amazingly well.” My niece played for the US women’s national hockey team before becoming a goalie coach for the Hawks in the AHL.

  “Can you convince Dad to retire?” Everly asks. “He should relax and enjoy his life now. He’s worked so hard.”

  “I don’t think he can totally give up hockey. But we’ve talked about it. We’re thinking of going on a trip this summer. And next season…we’ll see.”

  Dad returns and Mom bustles into the kitchen to get lunch. I go in to help carry out a platter of sandwiches, a couple of salads, and veggies and dip. When everything is outside on the big dining table on the patio, I stop her in the kitchen. “Are you okay, Mom?”

  She meets my eyes, hers going glossy again. “No.”

  I pull her in for a hug. “I know.”

  “We’ll get through it,” she mumbles. “Thank you for being here.”

  “Of course. We’ll always be here for you.”

  She squeezes me, pulls back, dashing away tears, and smiles bravely. “Okay, let’s go eat.”

  * * *

  —

  Monday morning, we have a practice and another yoga class before. The guys who were skeptical about yoga are coming around, saying they feel better when they get on the ice after the poses and the focus.

  And everyone’s in a great mood because Vancouver lost last night, and right now, we’re ahead of them in the standings.

  I feel happy about it, in a distant sort of way.

  Today nothing much seems to really matter. I’m struggling with the news we got yesterday. Even though we’d suspected for a while, it’s hard having it confirmed. Even so, I keep thinking, maybe the doctor is wrong. I know it’s stupid denial, but I can’t help it.

  When I see Arya, my mood lifts. She’s so sweet and pretty, all golden and glowing. And there’s a serenity about her, in her soft voice and calm demeanor. I always try to focus on what she tells us to do, but today I’m really concentrating on it, trying to get the most benefit I can from this session.

  “Yoga moves us from the fight-or-flight state to the rest-and-digest state,” Arya says as she moves among us. “Breathing deeply calms the nervous system. Your body starts to turn
off arousing nerve chemicals like adrenaline. It stops releasing fatty acids and sugar into the bloodstream, and sodium leaves the inside of the body’s cells. This slows the rate of nerve firing and relaxes your brain…your heart…your muscles.”

  I go with it, focusing on my breath. Arya stops next to me as I balance in Tree Pose. “Feel like you’re pushing your right foot through the mat,” she says. “Use your hand to bring your left foot even higher.”

  I shift my foot higher on my thigh, trying to focus on balance and not on her.

  “Big inhale…and reach your hands up.” She lifts her own arms up.

  We stand like this for I don’t know how long. The music is Pink Floyd’s “Breathe,” which is appropriate but surprising. I really like the music she chooses for these classes.

  “Let’s try a variation on this today,” Arya continues. “Bring your hands up again…on the exhale, bring your left hand down and touch your fingertips to that knee…shift your weight slowly as you reach your right hand over your head to the left…”

  I wobble. I breathe. I find my balance.

  She touches my right side. “Create a nice big opening here…that’s it.”

  She moves on. “And bring your right arm back up…palms together…and down to heart center.”

  We repeat the pose on the other leg. I try to make it perfect. Breathe. Balance. Focus.

  After class, I head to the locker room to change. Remarkably, I do feel in a better place than when I arrived at the arena. My head feels clearer.

  On the ice in our practice jerseys, Coach starts off with a lecture about how just because we’ve made the playoffs doesn’t mean we can slack off. We know we’ll be playing against Vancouver, and there are things we have to work on to beat them. Meantime, we still have four regular-season games to work on those things.

  He gets us skating our asses off in some drills, the whistle blowing, working on 3 on 3 D support, which works on quick transitions, give-and-go passes, and swinging to become a passing option. This is a hard workout for us forwards, but I’m a lot more aware of transitions now.