Текст книги "Pucked Up "

Автор книги: Helena Hunting

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

MAKING CH-CH-CHANGES

Despite her repeated attempts to get me to stay in Toronto for the night, Vi drops me at the airport.

“You gonna be all right to drive to Guelph from here?” I ask her. It’s almost ten. It’s been a long day.

“I’m good. I’ll stop at a Timmy’s and get a coffee.”

I grab my bags from the trunk. “Thanks for being here for me today.”

Vi wraps her arms around my waist and gives me a hug. “What are sisters for?”

I drop the bags and return it. We might not be related for real, but we’re tight like siblings should be.

“Message me when you get to Guelph so I don’t worry, okay?”

“Okay. And you do the same when you get back to Chicago.”

I wait until she’s in the car and on the road before I go into the airport. I get a seat on a flight that leaves in less than two hours. I upgrade so I can hang out in the VIP lounge and maybe catch a nap.

Vi messages me right after I get through security to let me know she’s made it to the Waters’ house. I don’t ask about Sunny, even though I want to. I do ask how things are with Waters and whether I need to break his nose again for her. I get a voice memo telling me she’ll be the one breaking things if it comes to that. She sounds sad. I don’t like it, but it’s not my relationship to manage, and Violet knows how to deal with Waters better than me.

I set an alarm so I don’t miss my flight and stretch out across one of the couches. Holding my phone to my chest, I close my eyes. It feels like I’m only out for a few minutes when vibrating wakes me. It takes me a while to clue in that it’s a call, not my alarm. Prying my eyes open, I hold it up and wait for it to come into focus.

Sunny’s face flashes across the screen, her bright smile darkening my mood. I let it go to voice mail. I’m not capable of dealing right now. Regardless, I wait to see if she’s going to leave me a message. Less than a minute later, my phone chimes with a new voice mail.

I key in my code and let my finger hover over the play button. Eventually I give in and listen. Sunny’s voice is a warm hug and a knife in the chest.

“Hi, Miller. I guess you’re not answering your phone right now. Or maybe you’re not answering for me.” Her voice cracks. “I know I shouldn’t have left with Alex today, but I didn’t want you two to fight. And with Kale and Benji being there, I worried things would get way out of hand, and Lily was upset about . . . well, everything. Violet got here a while ago. She said Alex broke your nose, and I gave you stitches.” She hiccups. “I guess maybe I wasn’t ready for this relationship. I’m sorry I couldn’t trust you . . . never mind. Can you just call me?”

Every time I replay it I’m dragged farther down into emotional sludge. It doesn’t sound like she wants to get back together. It sounds like she’s done.

***

The flight home sucks. Some over-processed chick has the seat beside me in first class. She wants to talk. It’s almost midnight; all I want to do is get my ass home and wallow. I’ve never been a wallower before, but it seems appropriate, considering.

Once I’m back in Chicago, I spend the next two days playing video games and eating meat-lovers pizza and suicide wings while drinking soda. I avoid Lance and Randy when they call. I don’t hear from Sunny again, and I don’t return her call. What is there to say? I do, however, hear from Violet. She’s damn well relentless with the phone calls and messages and emails.

On day three of my undetermined wallowing period, my door buzzer goes off during an epically shitty video game session. I’m not expecting anyone.

I get up off the couch and shuffle to the intercom. “Yeah?”

“Buck?”

“Dad?” What the fuck? “I thought you and Skye were away.”

“We got back last night.”

“Oh. How was the trip?”

“Good. You wanna let me in, Son?”

“I’m here too!” That’s Skye, my stepmom. “The trip was better than good, but I can’t share the details without embarrassing Sidney!”

“Don’t start, Mom. I’m here, too, Buck,” Violet says. “Open the door.”

“Sure. Okay.” I hit the buzzer and wait for the sound of the door opening before I release it. Violet has to be the reason for the family visit. I glance around my condo. It’s amazing the mess I can make in two days. I don’t even have the energy to care.

Also, I’m naked, since that’s how I roll when I’m alone and wallowing, or even not wallowing. Priority one is putting on clothes.

I find a cleanish pair of shorts and a shirt on the floor. There’s a knock a minute later. I open the door. Skye stands there with her arms wide. Then her smile freezes, along with the rest of her. My dad gives me the raised-eyebrow onceover.

Vi’s holding a tray of fast-food ice cream sundaes. Her nose crinkles. “Oh. Wow. Breakup does not look good on you.”

I ignore her. I’m not that bad, I don’t think. “Hey, family. Come on in. The place is a mess.” I step aside and gesture to my living room. The coffee table is covered in pizza boxes and Styrofoam containers of wing bones. Empty soda cans litter the floor.

“Oh, Buck!” Skye unfreezes and hugs me. She and Vi are almost exactly the same, from the way they look to the way they act, except Skye’s in her forties rather than her twenties. “I’m so sorry about you and Sunny.”

I pat her on the back. “Yeah, me, too.”

After she lets me go, my dad gives me a back pat. “You could’ve called. Even if I’m out of the country, I’m always here.”

“Yeah, I know. Things were cool until a couple of days ago. I wanted some time to myself.” My dad and I are close, but more in a hockey-talk way than deep feelings.

“Please tell me you didn’t eat all of this on your own.” Vi motions to the coffee table. “Never mind. Based on the smell in this place, I’m thinking yes. First things first: you need a shower. You smell like an actual yeti, if yetis were real. Then we’re staging an intervention.”

“An intervention?” I run my hand through my hair. It feels greasy.

“Yeah. You’ve had two full days of moping. That’s all you get.”

“Didn’t you mope for weeks after you and Waters broke up?”

“He has a first name, Buck. It’s Alex. And yes, I did. But I’m a girl. We get way more moping time than guys.” She searches through my kitchen until she finds a huge black garbage bag. “You.” She points at me. “Go shower. We’ll clean this up.”

“How are you even here right now? Don’t you have to work?”

“I have an emergency business meeting with a client. Go shower.”

I’d argue, but I’m pretty ripe.

Twenty minutes later I’m clean, but still unshaven, in clothes that don’t smell like stale food, and my living room doesn’t look like a pizza bomb went off anymore. All my windows are open, and Vi’s made coffee.

“Let’s sit on the balcony.”

My dad and Skye humor me by telling me about their cruise. I know it’s not what they’re here for. They don’t make me talk about Sunny, which is good. After a while, Skye and Vi decide I need groceries since all I have in the fridge is soda and a jug of milk that’s gone off, so they leave me and my dad alone.

“You and Alex gonna be able to manage yourselves on the ice when the season starts?” he asks.

I shrug. “I sure hope so. He threatened to go to the manager and have me traded if I fucked Sunny over.”

“Well, you didn’t, so there’s no reason for him to.”

“I don’t know that he sees it the same way you do.”

“Vi’s talked to him, and so have I.”

“When did you do that? And why would you do that?”

“This morning, after Vi came over, before we came here.” He laces his hands behind his head. “He’s going to be part of this family. And I did it because when my kids are unhappy, so is my wife, and none of that works for me.”

“What did you say to him?”

“That I get that he’s worried about Sunny, but punching you out over it isn’t going to solve any problems, or make his relationship with Violet any easier. She’s struggling with this, although she won’t say it out loud. She already ate a damn sundae at our place and killed the bathroom.”

“Wow. She must be worried then. Are things okay between the two of them?” Her messages over the last two days seemed upbeat, but she hasn’t mentioned Waters at all, or Sunny.

“She talks to Skye more than me, but she’s stressed. She wants things to be okay with you and Alex. You know how she is.” He stares out at the skyline. “Sometimes I feel like I didn’t do the best job preparing you for relationships.”

“Hockey was my girlfriend.”

My dad laughs. “You and me both. I know Skye’s been good to you, but before that . . .”

“We’re good, Dad. You did a great job. Look at this.” I motion to the skyline. From my balcony I can see the city and waterfront in the distance. It’s a great location—close to the buzz, but not in it. “My life is good.”

“It’s nice to have someone to share it with, though, Miller.”

“Maybe one day.” I swirl the dregs of my coffee. “Did you get my email about the fundraiser I wanna plan?”

“I did. That kid really made an impression, huh?”

“He’s an excellent player.”

“I know. There was some camp footage a couple of days back. The interview was a smart move.”

“Amber and Vi think so, and I guess if I wanna get moving on other projects, I need positive publicity.”

My dad smiles and nods. “I’ve already started talking to some of the coaches for the minors to see if they have players who might want to be involved. Whatever you need, I’m here for you—and not just for business stuff, either.”

“I know, Dad. It’s just easier for me to focus on the fundraiser right now.”

He doesn’t push it, which is one of the great things about my dad. He’ll offer his help, but he won’t force it on me. We spend the next hour compiling a list of contacts and players we think will want to be involved in the exhibition game. If I want this to happen, I need to work fast so we can set it all up before training starts in a little over a month. It’ll be a lot of work, but I need something to fill my time, so I’m ready.

***

Over the next week or so Violet stops by often to help me work on setting up the fundraiser. She maintains that things are okay with Alex, and I trust her to tell me if it’s not. Also, she’s a seriously sucky liar.

“Soooo . . . I was talking to Daisy yesterday,” she says, faux casually on Wednesday.

I don’t look away from my laptop screen. “Oh, yeah?” I don’t want to care about what’s going on with Sunny, but I do. I can’t stop thinking about her. I’m obsessive about visiting her social media feeds. The only thing she’s posted is an inspirational quote about karma. I haven’t called her back, and now that it’s been more than a week, I don’t even know what I’d say.

“She says Sunny’s still moping.”

“You said that’s normal for girls.”

“She won’t even do spa days with Daisy when she has time off. And she’s not eating.”

“None of that sounds good.” Since the family intervention, I’ve been going to the gym daily, and I’m back on my preseason diet. It means eating nothing I enjoy and being exhausted at the end of every day. But that makes it easier to sleep. It also means I’m completely unavailable to go out at night with Lance and the other guys. I’m not drinking, so the bars aren’t fun. I’ve also deleted all the honeys on my contact list. Regardless of whether Sunny and I get back together, I’m not going back to that.

“It isn’t good for the people who have to live with her every day, but for you it is,” Vi explains. “The stages of relationship mourning are complex for women. We have phases. The moping part means she’s not happy about the choice she made. No spa days means she’s punishing herself for not talking things out—or whatever she needs to punish herself for. The not eating is something some girls do when they’re sad.”

“You don’t not eat.” When Vi and Waters broke up earlier this year, she was all over the dairy treats, even though she can’t actually tolerate them.

Vi flips her ponytail over her shoulder. “That’s where the complex part comes in. Not all girls stop eating. Some of us do the opposite. Like me. I eat ice cream because it tastes good and it makes me feel like crap on the inside. It gives me the moops, so it’s like punishment, and it ensures I won’t gain the post-breakup ten pounds because it all comes out the other end anyway.”

“That’s seriously messed up, Vi.”

“Maybe, but it serves its purpose.”

“You were eating ice cream earlier this week.”

“I was sympathy eating. Sometimes I pick fights with Alex so I have an excuse to eat dairy. Don’t you ever tell him that, or I’ll wax a spot on the top of your head so you look like you’re losing your hair.” She makes a circle over her skull.

She’s always threatening to wax and/or shave parts of my body. She has yet to actually follow through, so I’m not worried. “Why would you pick a fight with him?”

“Not like a real fight. Just, like, you know, leaving the dishes out of the dishwasher, or the cap off the toothpaste, or forgetting to buy new lube so we can’t have marathon sex—that kind of thing.”

I give her the eye. “Sometimes it’s like you’ve been my sister my entire life, and then you have to go and overshare and ruin it all.”

“Isn’t that what makes our relationship awesome? Can you imagine if you’d had a crush on me when our parents first got married? That would’ve been wicked messed, eh? We’d probably have our own reality TV show.”

I don’t respond. I have nothing to say to this. Once I made a passing remark that she took the wrong way. She was hammered off of three light beers. She took it out of context and hasn’t ever let it go.

“So if things don’t work out with Alex and me, and you and Sunny don’t get back together, and your career takes a dump, and we need to make some money because you spend all yours on booze and hookers, we should totally pitch that to a TV station. They’d pick it up in a hot herpes minute.”

“Hookers are unnecessary. I’ve never had to pay for sex. If things don’t work out with Alex, I’ll set you up with Randy.”

I grin as her face scrunches up. She sets her coffee on the table, lifts the laptop from her knees and makes her standard thrusting motion. “It would never work. I can’t control the air hump. It’s embarrassing enough on the occasions when I see him now.” She settles back in her chair cross-legged and repositions her laptop. “In other, more exciting and important news—sit your ass down for this—”

“I’m already sitting.”

“Fuck you for ruining my intro.” She pretends to wind up her middle finger like a jack-in-the-box. “Apparently, Mr. My Balls Get Fondled By the World has been trying to contact Lily since your orgy weekend at the cottage.”

“There was no orgy.”

“That was a test. Good to know. But anyway, your ballsy friend tried to see Lily after the car wash fiasco. It didn’t work, but get this, she hasn’t gotten back together with that douchey guy, Benji. I met him, by the way. He’s a huge dickface. She could do way better. She’s actually nice.”

Following a conversation with Violet is like trying to watch a professional ping-pong tournament. “To you maybe.”

This is news about Randy trying to see Lily. He’s only mentioned her once since we’ve been back in Chicago. He’s been doing the gym with me the past few days, and he’s come back to my place instead of going to Lance’s, too. I thought it was a moral support thing, like he was trying to make it easier for me to cut the bar scene. Maybe his motivation is different than I assumed.

“Have you called Sunny yet?”

“No.” I go back to staring at the screen. She asks this every time I see her.

“Why not? You’re obviously miserable without her, and she’s miserable without you.”

“I don’t know. What am I supposed to say?”

“Honestly, Miller . . .” She makes another one of her faces. “I can’t do it. I can’t call you Miller. It has to be Buck. I keep trying it on, but it’s like a cheap pair of underwear. It doesn’t fit right. I can’t get comfortable.”

“No one said you had to call me Miller.”

“Yeah, but Sunny calls you Miller and so does Randy. I feel bad that I can’t make it work for me.”

“Don’t. Buck is a multipurpose nickname. If you want to feel bad about nicknames, stop calling me yeti.”

“If you had dark hair, you’d look like a Sasquatch.”

“I would not. I keep everything trimmed all nice-nice. Except my balls. Those are bare, like two squishy, smooth, flesh-colored plums.”

She makes a sound like she’s coughing up a hairball. “Thanks, asshole. I liked plums up until now. If you stopped trimming for three weeks, you’d look like one of those wolf people. If we get that reality TV show going, we could dye it all to prove I’m right, but I think we should go purple so you look like a giant wine-dipped yeti.”

I shake my head and fight a chuckle. As ridiculous as Vi’s tangents can be, they’re entertaining, and this one has lifted my crap mood marginally. Relationship limbo sucks. Probably because I was, and still am, way more invested in Sunny than I’ve ever been in a bunny, and I’m not drinking or boning my way out of my funk.

“Are you going to stop with the insults and the reality TV show dream so we can talk about real, actual, important things, like this fundraiser? How are we on the finances front?” I pull up the spreadsheet with the figures and itemized lists of things we need to pull this off. If things go well, I’ll have a solid chunk of funds to donate to Michael’s family.

After I stopped moping, I looked into their situation. It isn’t very good. Neither parent has benefits, so they’re out of pocket for all the medication. Applications for support can take months. It also looks like they’ll have to pull Michael out of hockey because they can’t afford it. Dealing with cancer as a kid is bad enough without losing one of the things that makes life fun.

“Sidney and I have contacted a bunch of people, and we’ve already secured a few significant donations,” Vi reports. “And you’ve contacted the porno car wash guy, right?”

“Yup. Gene’s all over donating as long as he can get center-ice seats.”

“Easy enough.” Vi types frantically on her laptop. “Overhead is covered, apart from a few thousand dollars, so almost everything beyond that will go to Michael’s family. So far it’s looking good. I have a list of volunteers for the day of, and Sidney’s secured an arena, vendors, and security close to Michael so he won’t have to travel. We can start promoting ticket sales as soon as the teams are finalized.”

“Awesome.” I’m amazed at the number of people required to run this event and how quickly we’ve been able to pull it together. My donation to the car wash fundraiser and my involvement in the camp have gone a long way in helping build positive buzz and to making this whole thing easier. Gene has been a great about sharing information and strategies, and he’s given me some new contacts.

“I ordered the T-shirts,” she adds.

“Nice. Wait. What? Why would you do that? I haven’t made a decision about the name yet.”

“I made it for you.” She taps the space bar on the computer, pretending to do something so she doesn’t have to look at me.

“I wish you hadn’t done that. Now I’m going to have to look at hundreds of people wearing shirts with Project Sunshine in huge yellow letters.”

“They’re great shirts.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Yeah, but nothing. Sunny needs to see for herself what she let go. Besides, it’s too late to cancel the order for the shirts or the jerseys.” She gives me a big, jerky grin. “Also, Alex is going to the gym this afternoon.”

“So?”

“You still need a few more players, right? He’s been asking about it, but it’s not up to me if he can play or not. You might want to clear the air before the season starts so you don’t murder each other on the ice.”

“We’ve punched each other out; we should be even.” I’d like to punch him again, but I won’t. “I guess it might be a good idea since you’re gonna marry him and all, huh? I’m gonna have to deal with him no matter what.”

Vi sniffs and wipes away a fake tear. “Look at you, growing up, being the man. I’m so proud.”

“Suck it.”

“Alex was unreasonable. We’re mostly okay, but I’m still not happy with how he managed himself. I’ve been doing a lot of withholding. It hasn’t been easy, but I think he’s starting to get it.”

“Withholding?”

She gestures to herself. “He gets none of this right now. So I’m responsible for taking care of my own orgasms. It’s seriously fucking inconvenient for me, but I’m willing to take a stand for you, so remember that.”

I try to speak, but there aren’t any words to express the level of overshare or my gratitude.

Violet waves a hand around. “Alex hasn’t always done the right thing when it comes to Sunny, and he knows that, even if he won’t ever admit it to you. He also knows how miserable she is right now, and he’s worried. At the end of the day, he wants her to be happy.”

He can’t be all bad if Vi’s willing to spend the rest of her life with him.

“I’ll talk to him when I see him.” I don’t want to get into another discussion about calling Sunny, so I change the topic. “How’re the wedding plans coming?”

Every time I bring this up, Vi has a mini freak-out. It’s fun to watch.

Her eye twitches, and she rubs her palms on her legs. “Ugh. Seriously. We haven’t been engaged that long. And with all this bullshit going on . . . you’d think we were in a state of emergency or something. Daisy and my mom are psycho about it. They have a running list of, like, two hundred people, and that’s just for the engagement party. I keep telling Alex we need to elope. I can’t deal with a five-hundred-person wedding. We’re not even Italian. It’s craziness.

“I don’t get the whole need to be a princess for a day. I don’t want to be a princess. I want to be Violet Waters so I have a princessy, romantic name. The rest of it is total crap meant to propagate false expectations for marriage.”

“Wow. Way to sell it, Vi.”

“Screw you, Buck. You just wait. Your day will come, and when it does I’ll laugh it up like you are. Talking about this is giving me hives.”

At first I think she’s being dramatic, but then I see irregular red dots appear on her arms.

“Does Waters know you’re this stressed out?”

“Say one word and I’ll—”

“Shave my balls. I know.”

“I was gonna say armpits, but you had to go for the genitalia, didn’t you?”

“Shouldn’t you be excited and not stressed? Don’t girls love this shit.”

Violet scratches the angry red welts expanding on her arm and ignores my questions.

The sound of the patio door opening in the condo next door puts me on alert. A new chick moved in while I was away. I haven’t officially met her, but we’ve chatted, and I’ve met her yappy dog’s nose through the tennis-ball-sized drainage hole where my privacy wall meets hers. The patter of nails on the tile follows, and his little brown nose appears in the hole, then it disappears and his paw shows up. He whines, aware he can’t get to me.

“Doodle! Stop being a pest!” The woman next door snaps her fingers and calls out, “Hi, neighbor!”

“Morning.” I call back.

Vi whispers, “Doodle? She named her dog after a penis?”

I shake my head and motion for us to go inside. This lady can be chatty for someone I’ve never seen, and for some reason her voice is familiar. We sneak back inside and finish planning the next phase of Project Sunshine. In two days I fly to Toronto to see Michael. We have a promo video to make—it’s been scheduled so it’s before his chemo treatment. Then I’m hanging around for that to keep him company.

Vi leaves before lunch, and I head to the gym. I staunchly avoid the coed section and the smattering of bunnies hanging around looking to chat. I also note that Randy avoids the bunnies, which is atypical for him. After two hours of hardcore training, I hit the showers.

Waters is already in there with his back to me. This is the first time I’ve seen him since he broke my nose. Here’s hoping he’s going to be civil about it. I leave a shower between us and turn on the spray, adjusting it until it’s hot enough to relax my tight muscles.

“Waters.”

“Butterson.” He glances my way briefly and motions to my face. “Looks like you’re healing up good.”

“Yup.” Most of the bruising has faded to that ugly yellow-green, and I’m done with the bandage. The stitches came out a couple of days ago.

“That’s good.”

“Yup.” I love awkward, naked conversations.

“Violet stopped by your place this morning.”

“Yup. We had a breakfast meeting. Business stuff.”

“She’s been at your place a lot.”

“We’re working on a project.”

“Yeah, I know.” He rubs a bar of soap over his almost hair-free chest. “How’s that going, anyway?”

“It’s good. I think it will be successful.” Now would be a good time to get him involved. Except he beats me to it.

“You know, if you need extra players, I’d be happy to join.”

“Sure. Yeah.” I cut the water. “That’d be cool. There’s a couple spaces left. Vi’ll fill you in on the details.”

“Great. Good. I think what you’re doing is commendable.”

“Thanks.”

There’s an awkward pause and then he asks, “Vi seem all right to you?”

“She’s been fine with me. Why? Is something going on?”

“Skye and my mom want to plan an engagement party. I’m not sure Vi’s too thrilled about it.”

“She mentioned that.”

That gets his attention. He stops washing his hair to focus on me. “She say something?”

“You know how she is about being the center of attention. You can always tell how stressed Vi is by how much ice cream she eats.”

“Two nights ago she ate a whole pint of Ben and Jerry’s and had to sleep on the bathroom floor.” He’s not laughing about it the way I usually do.

I consider the conversation Vi and I had about ice cream being punishment. I can’t imagine why she would feel the need to punish herself over being stressed about their engagement party. “Sometimes I replace the ice cream with frozen yogurt. The aftermath isn’t as bad. If you can get her to eat sorbet instead, you’ll avoid the whole issue.” This is a weird-ass conversation to be having in the shower.

“Thanks for the tip. Did she say anything else to you?”

He’s legit worried about her. I don’t mind putting him on the edge. “What Vi and I talk about is in confidence. I’ve already said more than I should.” I grab my towel.

Waters is quick about rinsing off as I collect my shampoo and soap. “Come on, Butterson.”

“Just talk to her. I’m sure she’ll tell you what’s what.” Both Waters and I know that’s not true. Vi can sit on a problem for weeks before she finally says something about it. It’s her personality. She’s a marinater.

“I know you two are close. If you know something important, it’d be great if you told me, Miller.”

I don’t think Waters has ever used anything apart from my last name to address me. I wrap the towel around my waist and face him. This is the opportunity I’ve been looking for. It’s perfect. He’s stressed over Violet’s stress. I’m happy about that. It means he cares.

“Vi left my place today with hives because I asked her about the wedding. They popped up out of nowhere. She’s stressed. If I were you, I’d take good care of her right now. Make sure she’s okay with what’s going on. You don’t want to end up swimming in shits creek with me. I remember what you were like the last time she dumped your ass. It wasn’t pretty.”

I expect some assholey reply, because that’s usually what I get, but I’m met with silence. I turn to walk away.

“Miller.”

“What?”

“Do you think she’s okay? I mean after this shit—” He motions between us. “Should I . . .”

“Be worried?” I finish for him. “Yeah, man. She may not be my blood, but she’s my family, and me and Vi, we’re tight. Right now you’re fucking things up.”