Cement Heart(35)

“Have you talked to him since the accident?”

I lifted my head off of the couch quickly and looked at her like she was nuts. “How much whiskey have you had this morning?”

“Shut up, you brat. I’m serious. Have you been to his grave? Have you talked to him? It might help.”

“No. I can’t go there.” I shook my head. “I’m not ready.”

I stood to grab my buzzing phone out of my pocket. Brody was calling.

“Who is it?” Gam asked.

“Brody.” I set my phone on the coffee table. “I’ll call him back. He’s probably calling to yell at me anyway. I’m not in the mood.”

“Why would he yell at you?”

My text message alert sounded, and I sighed as I picked my phone up again. “I missed another workout.”

Sure enough, a text from Brody.



B: Coach Collins wants to talk to you. Call me ASAP.



Shit.

“Hang on a minute, Gam. I need to call him back real quick.” I dialed Brody’s number and stepped into Gam’s kitchen for a little privacy.

“Where the hell are you?” Brody answered.

“Wow. Good morning to you too.” I laughed.

“Where. Are. You?” he repeated.

“At my grandma’s. Why?”

“Collins wants you to come in. Today. He’s going to call you, but I figured I’d give you a heads-up first.” Brody sighed into the phone. “He’s pissed, Viper. He had a closed-door meeting with Fletcher and Leipold today.”

Shit again. A meeting with the general manager and the owner does not sound good.

“Okay, I’ll head over there now.”

I thanked Brody for looking out for me and we hung up.

“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good,” Gam said as I walked back into her living room.

“No, it doesn’t.” I shoved my phone into my back pocket and crossed my arms as I leaned against the door frame. “Apparently Collins has his panties in a wad that I missed an optional workout, and now he’s looking for me.”

“You better take care of that.” She stood up and walked toward me with her arms out.

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight, holding that hug for as long as I could. Sometimes being comforted by someone who loves you unconditionally was the most basic necessity in the world.





I TOOK A deep breath and knocked on the door to Coach Collins’s office.

“Come in,” he yelled from behind the doorway.

I opened the door just enough to slip inside and closed it quietly behind me.

Collins looked up from his computer over his glasses. “Well,”—he leaned back in his chair and linked his fingers behind his head—“look what the cat dragged in.”

“Actually, it’s more like look what Brody dragged in. He told me you wanted to talk to me,” I joked, slowly making my way across his big office to the chair in front of his desk.

I sat and waited for him to talk, but he didn’t. He just stared at me for a long time. First, he studied my face; then he looked off into space and pulled his eyebrows in tight, deep in thought about something.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “I have four daughters, Finkle.”

What?

“Yes, sir. I know that.”

“We had our first daughter and my wife and I were elated. We were over the moon for my second daughter too, though at that point I was already itching for a son. Then we had my third daughter, and I was convinced I could only make girls.” He leaned forward in his chair and took his glasses off, placing them down and folding his hands on his desk. “My wife was done. Three was enough. I begged her for one more. I knew I would finally get my son. After three long years, she agreed to try one more time. We got another girl.”

I laughed, nervously chewing at the skin on my fingers.

“Of course we love all of them, don’t think we could love them more if we tried, but at the time… I wanted a son. When I was hired to coach this team, I was thrilled, but not just because I got to combine my two loves, hockey and coaching. I was most excited about inheriting twenty-three sons.” He sniffed and cleared his throat again. “Two months ago, I didn’t just lose one of those sons to a tragic accident, I lost two.”

Do not cry.

“Finkle, you’re never here. And when you are here, you’re not here.”

I looked down, focusing on a dark spot on the front of his desk, and nodded.

“The big wigs have noticed, and they were here today. They’re concerned about your ability to play this upcoming season. They say you’re not dependable anymore.”

My eyes shot up to his. “I am dependable, Coach. You know that.”