I also remember being so proud of that extension contract when I signed it twenty-two months ago. Five years and thirty million. It was the biggest contract anyone in our family had gotten. Definitely the biggest in my generation. And now it’s going to be the thing people laugh about. Can you believe the Barons gave Conner Garrison all that money and they had to dump him because he sucked so bad?
“Con, don’t spiral over this,” Clark advises. “Please, just try and enjoy Christmas. I honestly think you have a good shot at being scooped up.”
“Okay. I mean, I guess I don’t have a choice,” I say. Clark tells me to call him anytime if I need to talk and hangs up.
I don’t see how I can enjoy anything in my life until this is settled. Then I remember how much I was enjoying being with Mac. How soft her lips were. How fierce her kiss was. Yeah, I guess I could find a distraction… but I overheard her telling Tenley ‘Thanks but no thank you. I don’t want Conner to scratch my itches.’
“Con, what did Clark say?”
I turn around and my dad is standing there, arms crossed, looking serious and somehow older than his fifty years. Great, I’m aging my dad. “He said it’s handled. The managementis telling people I was sick. But they’ll only stick to this story if I don’t report Landry to the union.”
Liv and Mayhem come walking in now, apparently done with pretending they aren’t eavesdropping on my life imploding. “I don’t know why they are dumping you instead of the goalie. Your goalie let in seven goals in the first two periods last month against Los Angeles and four in the first period last week against Washington. But they waiveyou? That’s fucking bullshit. Your goalie is playing like Swiss cheese.”
My little sister defending me should feel good, but it doesn’t because she’s trying too hard and it feels like she’s making excuses for me. Liv reaches over and gives my shoulder a sympathetic squeeze, which I also hate. They both used to look at me like I was their hero. You don’t console your heroes.
Dad sighs at Mayhem’s language but we’ve never been the household that curbs swearing, if used with purpose, so he doesn’t scold her. “Why does it feel like Landry’s got a vendetta?”
“Did you sleep with his daughter or something?” Callie asks, walking up to stand beside Dad.
“Mom!” Mayhem and Liv bark in unison.
“What? It’s been known to happen.” Callie shrugs and points to my dad. “Hockey players are very sexual athletes. You two wouldn’t be here if they weren’t.”
“Okay, baby,” Dad wraps an arm around Callie and pulls her to his side as he almost smiles. “You don’t need to traumatize your daughters so close to Christmas.”
“I’m going to call my therapist,” Liv announces and leaves, heading to the hall.
“Drama queen!” Callie calls after her, grinning.
“I’m going with her to see if we can get a group deal,” Mayhem adds, but before she rushes off shehugs me, hard. I wrap one arm around her back and close my eyes for a second. “Love you, Con.”
Wow. This must be serious if Mayhem is getting mushy. She lets go and darts for the hall after her older sister and a second later the house echoes with the sound of her feet up the stairs. I turn and look at my stepmom, who I adore. "To get back to the original question, I have no idea why Landry is such an asshole to me. And no, I didn't sleep with his daughter or anyone he knows. I've been really focused on trying to turn the team around and get my own game out of the toilet. I haven’t even been on a date in six months.”
“Well, maybe that’s your issue,” Callie suggests.
Dad rolls his eyes. “Don’t start.”
"I'm not going to tell him to go out and get laid," Callie says huffily like it's insulting he would even think that's how her brain works. But it's exactly how her brain works. Callie is very sex-positive and she's always told us, the kids, to be safe but curious. She made sure we were all vaccinated for HPV and had access to condoms by the time we were fifteen. She also always told us we could ask her anything. I don't think any of us have talked to her about our sex lives but there was still some comfort knowing we could, without judgment. "What I was going to say is maybe you should date. I mean, you're a lot like your dad and he is a serial monogamist. He needs the partnership and stability of a serious relationship. It makes him better on and off the ice."
"She's not wrong," Dad agrees and glances at her with this look on his face that I swear is more than love. It's always been inspiring, the way these two feel for each other. The older I got the more I realized I didn't even mind that my parents broke up because Callie was who my dad needed. She was his missing puzzle piece. He turns to me now. "Sometimes if you get the rest of your life right, hockey falls into place."
“It doesn’t matter,” I reply. “I’m being waived so my career is essentially over. I’m headed to a farm team.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Dad, my contact is huge,” I argue. “I haven’t lived up to it. Who the hell is going to take the chance?” He looks at me, unblinking, his expression somber. I nod tersely. “Right. I’m going to bed.”
“It’s only eight!” Callie calls out.
“I’m tired,” I bark out and head up the stairs to my room.
I shut the door and lean against it, taking in the space I’ve spent most of my life in. I should have my own house by now. Lord knows I have the money to buy half of Silver Bay at this point, but I’m only here for such a short time—a few months in the off-season—and I like spending it with my family.
The room has been updated through the years. It's grown up just like I have. Gone are the posters of hockey players and the desk and bean bag chair. They've been replaced with a leather chair and footstool since I don't need to study anymore. And against the wall where the desk once was is a proper bookcase filled with trophies and memorabilia from my career, like the puck from my first NHL goal, the one from my first hat trick, and so on. I purposely move my eyes away from those things now, because looking at them stings, and cross the room to the king-sized bed. I grab the remote on the bedside table and punch a button so the music starts to play from my sound system.
Still holding my phone, I scroll through my contacts until I find Tenley. I pull up our texts. The last time she texted me was for my birthday months ago.
Hey Con, have a great one! Love ya, goof.