Overnight Sensation(94)

“Yeah.”

“It’s smart as long as you don’t mind being lonely. How’s that working for you this week?”

“Not bad,” I lie.

He smiles. “Heidi was staying with you. Where is she now?”

“In Bayer’s apartment. He went home to his dad’s.”

“So you’re keeping tabs on her, making sure she’s okay. Do lots of guys who break up from unserious relationships do that?”

“I dunno,” I say. “They should, maybe.”

He nods. “You’re right. You’re a good man, Jason Castro. Ask anyone. But I only wish you were a little nicer to yourself. It’s really sad that you lost someone. But you could stop blaming yourself.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know? Maybe because you were a thousand miles away when she got into a car with a drunk driver who killed her?”

“If I had come home that weekend when I was supposed to, she wouldn’t have been in that car.”

He shakes his head. “She could have called a friend. She could have called a taxi. She made a terrible, regrettable choice. She paid the price. And you’re still paying interest on it.”

I don’t say anything, because I’ve heard this sermon before.

“Lucky for you,” the doctor adds, “you’ll probably live another sixty or seventy years. You’ve got time. I hope, though, that the right girl comes along when you’re finally ready to set down this burden—and not beforehand. Timing is everything. Hockey players know that even better than me.”

“Yessir,” I agree, glancing at my watch. Maybe he’ll move on to torturing someone else now.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks.

I shake my head quickly. “Not unless you know where I can find a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich between touchdown and warmups.”

The shrink looks thoughtful. “Tell you what. I’ll go find you one myself.”

“Really?” Now that’s full service.

“Sure. If you can explain why it matters.”

“Oh.” I chuckle. But then I open my mouth and nothing comes out. How can I explain something so obvious? “Do you give all the guys a hard time about their superstitions? I hear Leo has a lucky jock strap.”

“Nah. I’m used to athletes and their superstitions. But yours is the only one I know that’s a talisman from beyond the great divide.”

Oh Christ. “It’s…a reminder to live up to my full potential. My career has been on an upward trajectory since I started eating that sandwich before games.”

“Here’s the thing,” the shrink says, sitting back in his chair. “Nobody’s career goes only in one direction. Ask your friend Bayer about that. And then ask yourself why you think you don’t deserve a living, breathing girlfriend, but you can’t live without a sandwich from a dead girl.”

“Um…” Does he really expect an answer? “Okay. Will do.”

“Good.”

A beat of silence passes. “So… Are you really going to find it for me?”

Mulvey puts his head in his hands. “Sure, kid. I’ll get it somewhere after I check in to the hotel.”

“Sweet! Thanks.”

He waves me out of the tiny office, and I go gratefully back to my seat.





37





Heidi


“I’m so angry at Jason, because I didn’t go looking for a relationship!” Yet now I feel awful anyway. “He started it!” I whine to my sister from the middle of the rug in Bayer’s apartment.

“You sound like a seven-year-old,” she says.

“You shut up,” I reply, proving her point.

“Look—it’s not very Heidi Jo to take this lying down,” she points out. “You always run straight at the things you want and then grab them by the neck.”

“I did,” I wail. “It failed.”

“Bullcrap,” my sister fires back. “Either the two of you have something special, or you don’t. That man is scared. You told me yourself. Why are you letting him off the hook so easily?”

“Because you can’t make somebody love you. He has to want it.”

“But what if he does? He told off Daddy. Nobody does that. And he defended you from a fish. He moved you into his home.”

“That last thing is open to interpretation.” I moved myself in. And that’s the whole problem—I don’t really trust my view of events. I was too busy getting swept off my feet to notice that he’s still in love with someone else.

“You’re not a quitter,” my sister points out. “No matter what Daddy says. Hey—speaking of Daddy—has he called you this week?”

“No. We aren’t speaking much right now. That’s another failed relationship of mine.”

She’s quiet a second. “I don’t think it’s you. Something is up with him. Mom is flying to New York this weekend, too. I got a bad feeling about it.”

I sit up from the rug, nerves racing through my belly. “You think there’s something wrong with Daddy?” My mind is full of horrible ideas now. Cancer? Heart trouble? Our mother hates New York and doesn’t often come up.