Marek (Cold Fury Hockey #11)(62)
So tonight is about Gracen. I’d scored front-row seats to Avenue Q, which is one of Gracen’s favorite musicals. I’m not that big on theater and such, but tonight has brought back some great memories. Gracen was heavily into drama during high school, and actually had dreams and aspirations of being an actress. I’m not quite sure how she went from wanting to be an actress to becoming a nurse, because I wasn’t a part of her life at that point.
We’re capping off the evening with a late dinner at one of the best downtown restaurants that money can buy, and it’s a good thing I make lots of money. It helped in securing a plum table.
The waiter comes and we order drinks. A bourbon and club soda for me, a dirty martini for Gracen. After he leaves, I don’t bother looking at the menu. I’m prepared for this to be a very long meal where we’re just going to spend time together and talk. There hasn’t been a lot of that lately, and it’s a reminder of how rough my career can be on a relationship.
I turn to Gracen, putting my elbow on the table, my other hand skimming my fingers over the skin on her shoulder. She’s wearing a simple sleeveless black dress, and she shivers from the touch.
“Did you enjoy the show?” I ask her.
She smiles broadly, her perfect white teeth gleaming in the candlelight from the table. “It was amazing. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I remember,” I tell her, noting the way she blinks in surprise at that admission. I lean in to kiss her, and when I pull back, I give her a wink. “What? I paid attention to things, you know.”
“You used to hate coming to the plays and musicals I was in,” she reminds me with a chastising look.
“But I came,” I remind her with an unabashed smile.
Gracen laughs and reaches out to her water glass. As she takes a sip, I ask her, “Why did you become a nurse? You were really focused on the arts your first two years in college.”
Gracen’s smile turns fond, perhaps missing the time when she had dreams that were really big and perhaps unreachable. She shrugs and lifts her eyes to mine. “With a baby on the way, I knew I had to focus on a career that actually paid bills.”
I force myself not to wince over that reminder that Gracen’s life changed drastically after I left her. Had I stayed, she could have afforded to pursue those dreams and be a mother.
I refuse to apologize, though, because Gracen and I have made somewhat of a pact that those things are in the past and we’re moving forward, but I decide I don’t want to hide from talking about it. Ever since Gracen told me she loved me a few weeks ago, I realized that perhaps we are building something that could potentially be stronger than what we had before.
So I ask her, “What was it really like? Going through the pregnancy alone?”
Gracen’s chin tucks in as she looks at me in disbelief that I’d ask such a thing, the risk being that old wounds could be torn open. I just return her look with one of open curiosity and no judgment.
She relaxes and even lifts her chin a bit. “It wasn’t so bad. I was living with Mom and Dad, so I had a lot of support. Mom went with me to all of my doctor visits.”
This didn’t surprise me. Gracen is tremendously close to her parents, unlike her older sister, Beverly, who was always sort of her own person. Independent and not overly giving.
“I don’t know how you did it,” I tell her, but I’m interrupted by the waiter.
He sets our drinks down and asks, “Are you ready to order?”
“Not yet,” I tell him. “We’re taking our time tonight.”
“Of course, sir,” he says with a slight bow. “I’ll check back.”
I nod and turn back to Gracen to continue our conversation. Instead, I find her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“What?” I ask her as she just looks at me with dancing eyes.
“You’re like…all grown up and mature,” she says with a snort as her hand drops from her mouth to reach for her martini.
Chuckling, I take a sip of my own drink, feel the muted burn of liquor and the fizz of soda coat my tongue. When I set the glass down, I turn back and tell her, “I don’t know how you did it. Stayed in school full time. Drove a hellacious commute each day. Raised a baby.”
Gracen shrugs. “I’m sure it was awful, but looking back on it now, I can’t really remember. It’s like the reward of Lilly has sort of obliterated how hard it was to bring her into the world.”
My stomach churns, thinking about just how hard it was for her. I’d read up on placental abruption. I know I’m a lucky man that Gracen and Lilly are alive. When I think of Gracen sitting in class, probably scared to death when she started bleeding and suffering unimaginable pain.
She was fucking all alone in another city, in danger of losing her baby, and she had to bear all of that alone. A stinging sensation hits my eyes, and it’s so foreign that for a moment I think something might be wrong with me physically.
Then I recognize it for what it is and blink my eyes hard to dispel what might end up being my undoing.
Gracen, who knows me better than most anyone, recognizes my dilemma and rushes in to save my sanity by changing the subject. “Lilly…can you believe how taken she is with hockey now? I mean, she’s not even four yet, and all she wants to do is watch you play hockey.”
Nice diverting tactic, Gracen.