by Melanie Ting
Bingo. A Facebook page, set on private but I could still see her photo. She looked a lot younger, with long hair and a shy smile. Very different from the confident woman of today. Another page where she won some science competition in high school. I knew Josie was smart, but she had mentioned she didn’t have a university degree, and now I wondered why not. I looked further and only found random mentions like track events and school awards. There were a few people with the same name muddling the search.
Then something jumped out at me. An obituary. Sara Ashrita Ray MacMillan. Mother to Richard, Cynthia (James), and Josephine. Grandmother to Zachary. Former wife of Grant MacMillan. Died in her 48th year of life. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Canadian Cancer Society.
I could hear Josie’s voice, “People love me, and then they leave.”
There was a click in my brain as all the pieces came together. Her father loved her and left. Her mother loved her and died. And maybe a lousy boyfriend—who never even bothered to discover the secrets of Josie’s incredible body.
Was this why she kept everyone at a distance? A family as dysfunctional as hers could screw anyone up. My anger burnt away, and all I could feel was sympathy.
I had tons of questions, and there was only one person who could answer them.
24
Showdown
I drove to the hospital. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to say, but it was time we stopped playing games.
Luckily, Richard hadn’t posted any security guards at her door, so I walked right in. Josie was sitting up in bed and staring out the window. She turned when I came in and looked at me. She didn’t look happy to see me, or unhappy—only wary. That was her way: the owl, looking and watching first.
“Hey, Josie. How are you feeling?” I had brought some flowers, and I held them out to her. It was stupid and cliché, but women usually loved flowers.
“I feel like crap. Getting crunched in an car accident does that.” She took the flowers and sniffed at them. Then she jammed them in the glass of water on her bedside table. “No scent. Store flowers are all show.”
“Do you want different ones? I can get you roses, if you like.”
She smiled. “Relax, Ricky. Flowers just remind me of my mom.”
I sat down beside her. “You never talk about your family.”
“Can you blame me? I heard you met my charming siblings. I wish I had been conscious for that.”
“Which part? The part where your sister doubted that you’d have anything to do with me? Or when your brother offered to slam a lawsuit and a restraining order on me—if I ever saw you again?”
She faced me. Her brown eyes had purple shadows below them, but they still seemed to see right through me. “Yet here you are. I had you pegged right when I said you were a masochist.”
I laughed in sheer relief. A car accident wasn’t enough to dampen Josie’s spirits. I’d rather have her insulting me than a million other women paying me fake compliments.
A nurse came in and took Josie’s temperature and heart rate. She eyed the flowers. “How pretty. Did you want me to find a vase for those?”
“That would be great,” I said before Josie could announce she was going to toss them. The nurse returned and made a fuss about removing the cellophane and arranging the flowers.
“Aren’t you lucky to have a bouquet from such a handsome visitor?” she said.
Josie nodded. “Horseshoes up my butt. Of course, he’s the one who put me here, so he figures that flowers are cheaper than getting sued.” The nurse gave her a horrified look and scurried out of the room.
“Wanna bet they discharge me early?”
“When are you getting out?”
She pointed to the contraption on her side. “Once my lung is clear, they’ll take the Alien out. I should get out of jail by Friday morning.”
“How are your ribs?”
“You know what it’s like when you get doored and you go ass-over teakettle off your bike, hit the pavement and scrape all the skin off your knees and elbows and bang up your head?”
“Uh, no.”
“Well, it hurts a hundred times worse than that.”
“Look, Josie—if you do have extra medical expenses, I want to cover them. It’s the least I can do.”
“Welcome to Canada—home of socialized medicine. I’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t quite sure where to begin. There was a short silence. Josie said, “Spill. What’s up your ass?”
“How come you didn’t even tell me your real name?”
She turned away and looked out the window again. “You never asked.”
I pulled a chair over and took her hand. She looked at me with narrowed eyes.
“Josie, come on. We’re together, aren’t we? Am I the only one who feels everything here? You’re amazing—you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re beautiful. Being with you makes me feel so good, like I can take on the whole world. But you keep shutting me out. You dole out bits of your life like it hurts to talk. I want to know you.”
“Could we not do this right now? I’m in a little pain here.”
“No. We have to do this now. There isn’t going to be a better time.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve got stuff going on.”
She frowned at me. “What?”
“First we talk about you, then we talk about me.”
Josie blew out a big breath. She pulled her hand out of mine. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about your family.”
“Well, you met my brother and sister. My dad’s a big deal lawyer at a downtown firm.” She closed her eyes. “You’re lucky you missed meeting him.”
I waited, because I knew there was more.
“My mom… is dead.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She opened her eyes and made a dismissive gesture. “You didn’t even know her.”
“Of course I didn’t, but I’m sorry because I can see how bad you feel about this.”
She shrugged and then winced at the pain. “Anything nice about me came from my mom. Dad thinks that sympathy is for losers. We all used to idolize him and want to be like him—and now we are—assholes. I was a daddy’s girl though, his little princess right up to the day he left.
“Our mom was the glue. She loved us unconditionally. But when she got pancreatic cancer, everything fell apart. Richard was a big important lawyer so he couldn’t take time off. Cyn was in the middle of a difficult pregnancy, so she couldn’t do much. My dad already had a brand new family, so we couldn’t count on him either.”
She tried to keep her voice unemotional, but Josie’s whole body was trembling as she spoke. I wanted to hear everything, but I could see what an effort it was for her. “I quit university to stay home and take care of my mom. I was happy to do it. I loved her so much—she was the kindest, sweetest person.”
Her voice caught, and I thought for a moment she might cry. I sat beside her and tried to hold her hand again, but she brushed me away.
“They thought she’d only live for three months, but she lived for a year longer than that.”
“Oh, Josie.”
“At the funeral, everyone said how lucky we were that she lived longer than we thought. But you know what?” She looked up at me, her eyes blazing with anger now. “All the extra time she was in so much pain—pain that the drugs couldn’t dull—that she became this whole other person. She was so angry and unhappy. She would complain constantly and scold me. I was only twenty, and I didn’t know anything about nursing.”
“That’s terrible. Your whole family should have helped too.”
Josie looked away, exhausted. “They did. If you ask them, they would point to all the things they did. Dad hired a nursing aide to come in daily. Richard took care of the finances and household stuff. Cyn made arrangements around food and groceries. And they visited a lot. But they had their own lives.”
I nodded, but I didn’t say a word in c
ase she would stop.
“I was the only one without a life. But it was my own fault. I should have asked for the help I needed—insisted that I needed a weekend off to goof off with my friends and act my age. Instead I did everything because I was this nice person who wanted to make everyone happy. I was sweet JoJo, just like my mom had been this sweet person who made all these sacrifices in her own life for her husband and kids.”
Josie straightened her back and winced. She shook her head. “Early on, Mom would have good days when she was pain-free. And she loved to watch these travel shows and see all the places she wanted to visit. She had dreams of her own, and I had never known.
“Once she died, I was ready to change. I was going to enjoy every day and not put things off for the future. And I was going to stand up for myself and stop telling people what they wanted to hear. I never deliberately hurt anyone, but I won’t stand for bullshit either.”
This was the most Josie had ever told me about herself. She was free because she was honest to herself. I realized that when she told me her life philosophy, she was telling the truth.
I reached over and took her hand again. She tried to pull away, but she was too weak.
Her voice took on a familiar brittle tone. “Was this your plan? Put me in a hospital bed and then force me to answer all the stupid questions you’ve been dying to ask.”
I groaned. “Get real, Josie. I know you hate hospitals. I’m really sorry.”
“Did you mean to do it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do I need to spell this out? Well, did you enter the intersection, calculating the laws of physics so that the oncoming car would T-bone us at precisely that moment?”
“Of course not! I didn’t even see it. That car must have been speeding.”
“It was. I talked to the R.C.M.P. officer. They’re going to charge the other driver.”
I hadn’t heard that yet, but I’d been pretty busy for the past 24 hours. “But now you need to be looked after for a month—and you’re so independent. I feel terrible about that.”
Josie looked out the window again. “You should feel worse now that you’ve met my sister.”
“Okay, I have to tell you—I got cut from the team today.”
“Why?”
“Because of the car accident. It’s not my first one, right? They’re worried about their team image, you know, publicity stuff.”
“A team that has bar brawls is worried about their image. Yeah, right.”
“I was thinking, maybe it’s for the best. I could look after you now. I’ve got the time, and then you wouldn’t have to go with your sister.”
Josie looked away. “That’s insane.”
“Why is it insane?”
She didn’t respond for a long time. I felt the warmth of her hand in mine, but her mind and spirit were far away. The sensation of remoteness between us made me shiver.
Finally, she asked me, “What about your life? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. This gives me time to figure things out. I guess I could go back to Switzerland.” But last time I went to Europe with a purpose. This time, it would probably be for the rest of my career.
“Is that what you want to do?”
“I guess.” So much had happened in the past 48 hours, I really hadn’t had any time to think.
“No, Eric, for once in your life, why don’t you figure out what you want?”
“What I want?”
“Yeah, deep down, if you could have your life any way you wanted—what would that be?”
“Well, I’d be playing hockey.”
“Where?”
The first answer that came into my mind was the NHL. If anything, this summer had raised my hopes. I felt like I was as good as Bomber or Reeds, and they had made it. But shit happens. Sometimes success had nothing to do with how good you were.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You do know, but you’re too chickenshit to say.”
I was sick of her pushing me when she didn’t understand everything I’d been through. “You know what, Josie? It’s easy for you. I’ve never met anyone with as much confidence as you.”
She laughed. It was her hollow, sarcastic laugh. “I told you, I wasn’t always like this. I used to be the quintessential nice girl. Too bad you didn’t meet me then, we could have had the normal relationship you’ve been trying to force on me since the day we met.”
“Is that how you see me? I’m not trying to force you into anything, or change you. I like how strong you are. I like everything about you. And that’s why I want to see you more. Is that a crime?”
When I looked into her dark eyes, everything I felt for her came welling up. “I love you, Josie.”
I waited for her to say something—anything. The silence was punctuated by the machine beeps and rolling carts in the hall.
She pulled her hand out from mine and finally spoke, “I don’t want to be your next boss.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You like people to boss you around. Your dad, your trainer, your shaman. I don’t want that responsibility. You need to man up and decide your own life.”
“It’s not up to me!” I knew what I wanted, but if I couldn’t even make the AHL, I’d never make the NHL. And now it seemed like I couldn’t even get the woman I loved.
She raked a hand through her short hair. “You worked so hard to make the team, and you’re letting them cut you for nothing.”
“Nothing? Look at you! I fucking punctured your lung.”
“A speeding BMW punctured my lung. It’s not always about you, Eric. I don’t know what happened in your first car crash, but this was an accident. Why are you letting an accident change your life?”
Cynthia walked in at this moment. Her eyes widened at the sight of me.
“Oh my God, you’re back. Did you not hear what Richard said? Do I have to call security or something?” She held her large purse in front of her like a shield.
Josie scowled at her. “A restraining order requires my consent too. And he’s not filing a lawsuit against Eric either. I’m fine.”
“Really, Josephine? You’re the last person I thought would get taken in by a pretty face.” Cynthia boxed me out of the conversation. “Besides, you’re not fine. You’re going to have to move to my place for at least a month.”
“That’s not happening. I’m going back to my condo. If necessary, I’ll hire a nurse.”
“Where is all this money coming from?”
“I can pay for the nurse,” I offered. They both turned and stared at me.
“No,” Josie answered. “I’m not taking anything from you.”
“Why not?” Cynthia asked. “The whole thing was his fault.”
“It was actually the other driver’s fault,” Josie repeated. Cynthia began to argue with her.
I interrupted, “Or I can take care of Josie myself.”
Josie shook her head vehemently. “That is not happening.”
“Why not? You said I should decide what I want. This is exactly what I want to do—to be with you. To take care of you.”
“I don’t want to be dependent on anyone. Least of all you—the world’s biggest pleaser.”
“Why are you being this way? Can’t you believe that it would make me happy to do this?”
She closed her eyes, and I watched her long lashes fluttering on her cheeks. Even Cynthia shut up, sensing the tension of the moment.
Josie took a deep breath, and then spoke in a flat voice. “You’re too damaged to look after anyone else. Go to Switzerland. I think what you really want is an excuse to avoid your daddy issues.”
I was speechless. Everything I had confided to her was being laid out in public.
“It’s pretty clear that she doesn’t want your help,” Cynthia said.
“Off you go,” Josie added. “Like a little puppy with his tail between his legs. That’s your real spirit animal.”
I couldn’t believe this. Josie was always tough, but she’d never been deliberately cruel. She had lied about never hurting anyone, because she’d gone straight to everything vulnerable I’d shared with her and smacked me in the face with it. Her betrayal pierced me and filled me with anger.
“Bitch.”
The word sprang instinctively from me.
She laughed. That sound I’d always treasured was now mocking me. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”
25
The Weight of a Butterfly
Operating on automatic, I packed a bag and hit the road. It was late in the day to start the long drive home, but I couldn’t stay in Vancouver any longer. All the trust that Josie and I had was shattered. Had she been laughing at me behind my back the whole time? Everything spiritual that I had shared was meaningless to her.
I didn’t belong here. I needed to get home. I was drawn there like a salmon returning to spawn.
Nelson had a history of sheltering people who didn’t quite fit in elsewhere or were looking for someplace special. Like back in the Vietnam War days, a whole bunch of draft-dodgers had settled here. Even today, on our main street, there were more holistic businesses than chain stores. It was a healing place. And right now, I needed healing. My mind kept coming back to Josie—I loved her, I trusted her, and to have her turn on me like that hurt so much; the physical pain was worse than anything from hockey.
If I thought I had hit bottom before, now was the lowest of the low. I had worked so hard for the past two years. Arizona, Switzerland, training with Tony—everything I had done to get this one last shot. Getting cut from the Vice meant I had no realistic shot at the NHL. I had only the slimmest of chances anyway, but now there was none.
The last time I’d felt this low was when I got cut by my last AHL team in San Antonio. I thought I’d hit rock bottom that night.
I had gone back to the team hotel and booked one extra night. I threw my hockey gear in the closet, went out and got completely wasted. Even to this day, that whole night was a blank. I woke up in my hotel room, and there was this strange girl sleeping beside me. That wasn’t a huge surprise, in those days waking up alone after a party night would have been a bigger shock.