Pucked Under (Pucked #4.5)

by Helena Hunting

  Randy calls a cab, which is good because there’s no way I’d let him drive his dad anywhere. Randall, Sr., doesn’t get to be alone with him again so he can hammer more shit into his head. While we wait, his dad searches his room for something he never actually finds. I have a feeling he came back to pilfer pawnable items or create more drama.

  The look on Randy’s face scares me as we walk his dad to the door. It’s like he’s shut down.

  The cab is already waiting. His dad pauses and looks at me. “You think you’ve changed him, but he is who he is—”

  “For Christ’s sake, will you shut up? Is this how you make yourself feel better about how empty and shitty your life is? And that’s a rhetorical question, so you don’t need to waste any more words with a response.” I’m about to close the door in his face, when I decide I have a few more for him. “Randy doesn’t owe you anything. In fact, you owe him a lifetime of apologies for making him think he’s anything less than amazing.”

  He looks over my head at Randy, so I snap my fingers in his face.

  “You look at me, not him. As someone who loves him, it’s my responsibility to protect him from people who hurt him when he can’t bring himself to do it. As long as I’m in Randy’s life, this version of you isn’t welcome.”

  Randy pulls out his wallet and withdraws a stack of bills, reaching around me to tuck them into his dad’s shirt pocket. “This should cover you for a few days, until you figure out where you’re going and what you’re doing. Don’t call Mom, and don’t call me until you get yourself sorted out.”

  I step back into the house, close the door, and lock it before either of them can say anything else.

  “I was going to change the code when I got home. I didn’t think he’d come back.” Randy drops his head, his lips finding the place where my neck meets my shoulder. “I should’ve handled him. You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

  I hate how defeated he sounds. Adrenaline is slamming through my veins, making me hyper-aware and alert. Until Randy came into my life, I never would have had the guts to put someone in their place like that.

  “I don’t know that he would’ve had a face left if I’d let you deal with it.”

  “He put his hands on you.”

  “He squeezed my wrist; that was all.”

  “I should never have let him stay here.”

  “He’s your dad, Randy. I get that you want to help him, even though he doesn’t deserve it. And you thought he was gone.”

  “I keep waiting for things to change with him, for him to go back to being someone worth giving a shit about, but it never happens.”

  Randy seems edgy, fragile, like he did the night I broke things off with him. I inspect his hand. He’ll have bruises on his knuckles, but nothing serious.

  I bring his fingers to my lips. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”

  “I hate that he’s like this. Why can’t he ever just be proud of what I’ve done? Why does he always have to make me feel like shit?”

  I close my eyes for a moment. Randy is a complicated man, but he’s intrinsically good, and that’s the part his father makes him question. I feel rage boiling and will it back down.

  I take his face between my palms so he’ll look at me and not his feet. “I’m proud of you.”

  His smile is sad. “I know. It’d just be nice if he wouldn’t crap all over my life every time I see him.”

  “You’re a beautiful man with a beautiful heart. You’re all the good things your father isn’t. I don’t know what happened to him to make him so self-destructive, but I do know at your core you’re dramatically different than he is. Maybe he can’t handle seeing you become everything he couldn’t.”

  He pulls me into a tight hug. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  ***

  Two days after we send Randy’s dad packing, he leaves a voicemail on our home phone. It’s an apology. He sounds so different that I barely recognize the voice as his. But he also sounds legit, so I return the call, as he requested, and listen to his heartfelt apology in real time. He’s going back to Boston, where he’s been living for the past year. He’s going to dry out and get his life back together. He’ll give Randy some space until he does.

  I don’t tell Randy about the call, because I don’t want to give him false hope. I don’t know enough about who his father was before his life fell apart to know whether he’s capable of putting it back together.

  As Randy requested, we blow off our friends for most of the weekend so we can enjoy what’s left of our uninterrupted time together. He seems good at the time, but then he’s quieter than usual over the next week. Like me, he tends to internalize before he externalizes. Season training begins, taking more time away from us. This continues to fuel his anxiety, but he channels his energy into hockey, leaving me feeling lost.

  I spend more time with Sunny, because she’s in the same position I am—sort of. She and Miller were together when season training began last year, but she still lived in Canada, not with him, so it was a lot different than it is now. And she wasn’t pregnant. Like me, she’s gotten used to having her boyfriend around all the time. The sudden shift is jarring. I’m trying not to be too needy.

  It’s Sunday afternoon. The guys have a practice, and we’re sitting in her living room, sifting through the pile of Polaroids from the cottage trip. (I removed several from the stack before it was made available for public viewing.) Sunny’s cross-legged on a pillow on the floor with Titan and Andy curled up beside her. Wiener is resting in my lap, which seems to be his new favorite place to hang out. He’s supposed to be adopted next week, which makes me sad. I’ve gotten attached to his wiener-y self.

  While the guys are immersed in pre-season training drills and games, we decided to put together photo albums with the pictures we took that weekend. It’s way more work than I expected, but it’s fun, and it takes my mind off of things. I can tell when Randy had the camera. The focus is always on me.

  Sunny groans and puts a hand on her belly. “He’s so active. It’s like he’s doing somersaults in there. Come feel.”

  I move a disgruntled Wiener from my lap and scoot over to her on the floor, putting a hand on her belly. She lifts her top and moves my hand up. I stay still and wait until I feel the bump and then see the distinct outline of a limb, or something, move across her belly.

  “That’s incredible. Do you think maybe he’ll come early?”

  “Fingers crossed.”

  The baby is due on the first official game day of the season, which is eight days away, and for which the team will not be in Chicago. Sunny’s biggest worry is that Miller will be halfway across the country when she goes into labor, and he’ll miss the birth. She has a home birth scheduled, with a midwife and everything. If Miller’s not around, I’ll be the one by her side when she delivers—and of course her mom is planning to come down the week before the baby’s due, just in case. Still, Sunny gets emotional at the thought of Miller not being here.

  The front door opens, and Miller comes in, followed by Randy. Randy immediately pauses and surveys the scene: my cheek pressed up against Sunny’s bare tummy.

  “Is someone moving around in there?” Miller kicks off his shoes and drops to his knees beside Sunny, scaring a sleeping Titan. She jumps out of the way and barks once. Miller puts his hand on Sunny’s belly and starts talking to her stomach.

  They’re so cute. I look over to Randy. His hands are shoved in his pockets. He regards Miller and Sunny with an expression that’s the opposite of mine. He looks worried. When he catches me watching him, he gives me a small smile.

  Things have been difficult since his dad left, as I figured they would be. The aftermath of Randall, Sr.’s, visit feels like a relationship setback and—compounded with the beginning-of-season jitters and his best friend becoming a father—has made things strained between us. No longer manifesting as possessiveness, Randy’s stress now means sex has bee
n less frequent. He’s been pulling the tired card the past few days. I fully expect him to pull it tonight.

  “Man, you gotta come feel this. It’s like a dance party in there.” Miller motions Randy over.

  “Uhh…I’m good.”

  Wiener waddles over to Randy and jumps up on his leg. He crouches and gives him a pat on the head, probably happy to have the distraction. After a minute of scratches, Randy makes a big show of stretching.

  “You ready to go, luscious?”

  “Sure. Let me just clean this up.” I motion to the mess on the floor.

  Sunny waves me off. “Leave it. I’ll be back at it tomorrow afternoon anyway. Oh, and the next time you’re over, maybe we can pick your dress for the wedding.”

  “Isn’t that, like, a year away?” I ask.

  “My mom wants everything ordered as soon as possible.” She’s all smiles about this. Wedding preparations for Sunny and Miller are drastically different than they were for her brother. She’s letting the mothers take charge and enjoying the process.

  “Right, yeah. You can never be too prepared.”

  “She’s already looking into little tuxes for this one.” Sunny pats her belly.

  I gather my purse and use Randy’s chest for balance as I put my shoes on. He helps me into the truck as usual, but doesn’t cop a feel or anything. My stomach starts to knot as we head home in silence.

  “Was practice okay?”

  “Yeah.” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “It was fine.”

  After another endless minute of silence I try again. “Is everything okay?”

  “Huh?” He turns the radio down.

  “You’re really quiet.”

  He runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  I shove my hands between my thighs. I don’t know how to read his mood. This is harder than I thought it would be. “Oh. Okay.”

  “My dad called today.”

  “Oh? What did he say?” He promised he wouldn’t call Randy until he had himself sorted out.

  “I didn’t talk to him. He left a message wishing me luck on the start of the season.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “I guess. Yeah.” He’s quiet for the rest of the ride. He cuts the engine when we pull into the driveway, but doesn’t make a move to get out of the truck.

  “Randy?” I touch his shoulder.

  He turns to look at me, his thumb at his mouth. “I think we need to talk.”

  My stomach plummets from my throat to the floor, like we’ve dropped from the summit of a roller coaster. My body immediately feels numb, and my eyes well. All his tension makes sense now—the lack of sex, the quietness.

  I raise my hand to my mouth as if that’s going to stop the question I have to ask. “Oh my God. Are you breaking up with me?”

  I can’t get enough air. Mentally, I consider my options. I can stay with Sunny and Miller until the baby comes, but then what?

  Randy’s brow furrows. “What?”

  “You’re breaking up with me.” My tears spill over and land in my lap.

  “What? No, no, no.” He releases his seatbelt, pushes the center console up—heedless of his phone and the change that spills all over the backseat—and slides over. Taking my face in his palms he kisses me, once, twice, a third time. “Shit, Lily, why would you think that?”

  I hold on to his wrists and try to take a deep breath, but I can’t because now I’m really crying.

  I seriously hate crying. So much.

  I’ve been holding on to all this emotional stuff since his dad left, and now here it is.

  “I don’t know. You said we needed to talk, and we’re in the truck, and you’ve been all quiet, and you haven’t really wanted me lately, a–and—” I suck in one of those horrible pitchy breaths. Shit. I’m losing it. It’s so girly.

  “I don’t want you?”

  “You said you were tired last night. And the night before that, and two days before that.”

  “I thought you were just being nice, like you were trying to make me feel better.”

  “I haven’t wanted to push you, so I left it alone.”

  “Ah, fuck.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “I haven’t dealt with this very well, have I?”

  “I know you’re stressed about the beginning of the season,” I whisper.

  He fingers the ends of my hair. “I am. It’s more than that, though.”

  I wait, because of course there’s more. He just has to figure out how to say it.

  “I’m worried I can’t give you everything you deserve.”

  I pull away so I can see his face. “What do you mean?”

  His honey eyes are pained as he takes my hand in his, playing with my fingers. “I don’t know if I can give you what Miller and Sunny have, or Alex and Violet.”

  “Whoa. That’s a big leap from our current situation. Why would you think that’s something I’m looking for, especially now?”

  Randy shrugs. “Well, that’s kinda how this works, right? Like, you moved in with me, and eventually I’ll put a ring on your finger, and then we’ll do the family thing.”

  “The family thing?”

  Randy blows out a breath. “Like, have kids and stuff.”

  “This is because of Sunny?”

  “I don’t know. I guess?” He runs his hands over his thighs. “I mean, with Vi and Alex getting hitched, and now you and Sunny are up to your tits in wedding dress magazines, and there’s all this baby stuff, and then my dad showed up—”

  “It freaked you out?”

  He drops his head and nods, peeking up at me from under his lashes.

  “Can I be honest with you?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “It freaked me out, too.”

  “Really? But you’re so into this stuff with Sunny.”

  I pat his cheek. God, I love him. “That’s because it’s not my monkey or my circus. I get to do all the fun stuff, and it’s not my show. Sunny’s so happy and excited, and I’m happy and excited for her. But that doesn’t mean I want the same thing. I’m very content to be her maid of honor and Aunt Lily.” I lace our fingers together. “I hope I haven’t given you the impression that what they have is what I want.”

  “Well, no, but you’ll want that eventually, right? What if I can’t do it?”

  “Honestly, Randy, I have no idea what I’m going to want in the future. I do know that getting married doesn’t actually change how two people function in a relationship. Alex and Violet are still weirdos. As for the family thing, I’m only twenty-three. You’re only twenty-five. I have no desire to jump on the baby train with Sunny. I’m more than happy to have that experience from the outside right now.”

  I pause for a second to gather myself. I’m relieved that this isn’t the discussion I thought it was going to be. “My mom and I struggled a lot financially when I was a kid. We made it through, but at times it sure wasn’t easy being the two of us. I want to make sure I don’t end up in a situation like that again, for any reason. You and I have years to figure things out, and those are decisions we’ll make together, when it’s time to make them. Maybe we’ll get married, maybe we won’t. We’ll see if we want kids at some point. Relationships are about sacrifice and compromise. Sometimes, to have the person you want, you have to give up ideals that are important only because society tells us they are. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Good.” I put my hands on his shoulders and straddle his lap. “I love you.”

  His smile is soft. “I love you, too. Sometimes I don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t want to be away from you when the season starts. Thinking about it makes me edgy.”

  “Same.”

  He smiles. “Why do we always have our important conversations in this truck?”

  “The same reason we always end up having sex in bathrooms, I guess.”

  He chuckles at that, but his eyes burn.


  I kiss him, because those are all the words we need right now, and because I’m so thankful to see that heat.

  12

  RIBBONS

  RANDY

  Tomorrow is our last pre-season exhibition game. Training is going well. We have two new guys on the team: one’s a rookie they’ve moved up from the farm team, and one’s a trade from Philly. They’re both good players, and once they get used to the way we play, they’ll gel with us just fine.

  In the locker room, Lance pulls a shirt over his head while I pack my duffle. “You coming out for a bit?” he asks.

  In less than a week I’ll be on the road again to start the season. I want to go home to Lily, because my time with her is already running short, but it’s also important for me to spend time with my team off the ice. She knows this. I know this. It doesn’t make it easier, though.

  “I’m going for one beer,” Miller says.

  “I can do the same.”

  Miller gets the battle in a way Lance doesn’t. Miller’s kid is actually due on the day of our first game, which is away. It kind of fucking sucks for him. We’re all hoping the kid either decides to make an early entrance or wants to stay in there a little longer, so one way or the other, his dad’s in Chicago for the big moment. As much as I’m not interested in joining the baby brigade anytime soon, I sure wouldn’t want to miss the occasion if Lily was in the same predicament. Which she isn’t. Thank fuck.

  When we get to the bar, I message Lily to let her know I’m out with the guys for a bit. In response I get a smiley face and a thumbs up. She’s good about this kind of thing. I order a pint of beer and talk strategy with my teammates. Like usual, there are bunnies, but social media has made it pretty clear that I’m not on the market, so they leave me alone for the most part.

  Waters is the first to leave, which I find odd because he’s the team captain and all, but maybe he’s got things going on at home I don’t know about.

  About an hour into my time at the bar, I get a picture of our bedspread covered with clothes. Actually, it’s covered with bras and underwear. I’m pretty sure it’s Lily’s way of saying I should think about coming home soon.