Sincerely, The Puck Bunny (Totally Pucked #2)(3)
Damnit.
I should’ve known she’d turn up here after I’ve avoided her calls and texts for the past week. I’ve been in a funk these past couple of months, and honestly, dealing with my mother is the last thing I want to do.
I slam the truck in park, then hop out and get my hockey bag, slinging it over my shoulder before walking up my driveway.
When I open the door and walk through the foyer and into the kitchen, my mother is sitting at my kitchen table, folding a pair of my briefs. It seems like she’s been here a while since all of the rest of the clothes are folded into piles on the table in front of her.
“Hi Mom,” I say, tossing my keys into the bowl on the kitchen table.
“Hi, honey.”
I love her, I do. She’s my mom, but, she forgets that I’m a grown man, and every single time she comes over and makes herself at home when I’m not here, I regret the day I decided to give her a key.
“I just wanted to stop by and check on you. I haven’t heard from you all week and you didn’t answer when I called earlier, so here I am.” She laughs.
“Yes, here you are. Mom, you don’t have to do that. I’ve told you a thousand times.”
She shrugs, offering me a small smile, then blows a piece of blonde wispy bang that has fallen free from the loose bun at her neck. “I know Briggs, but it’s what Moms do. They take care of their babies… even if they are grown now.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it, nonetheless.”
Walking over, I give her a quick hug, drawing her into my arms. Sometimes, I wish things were different, and I wasn’t as fucked up as I am… at least for her sake. I hate that she has to be in the middle of all of this.
Mom pulls back and pats my cheek. “You need to shave this, it’s getting long.”
“I will.”
“I came over to see if you would come to dinner this weekend, as a favor. For me.”
She takes my hands in hers, gazing up at me with hope in her eyes.
Unease unfurls in the pit of my stomach, latching onto my insides and billowing outward. Family dinners used to be a weekly thing with our family. Before. Every Sunday, my brother and I would head to Mom and Dad’s for dinner and to catch whatever hockey game was on. It didn’t matter where we were, or what we had planned, we’d drop it to make sure we were there. Seeing the way her face lit up, and she’d give us a real smile every time we walked through the door made whatever sacrifice we made to be there, worth it.
I hate to be the one to crush her hopes every time she tries to put our family back together, but some things…just can’t be fixed.
“Mom…” My jaw steels as I clench my teeth together. It seems like the same old wound, still raw with pain, continually rips back open at every turn. The constant reminder that at the end of the day, I’m the one preventing our family from being whole again. Even if it was my brother who destroyed it in the first place.
Brushing past her, I walk to the fridge and pull out a Gatorade, desperate for a moment to regain my composure. I have to remind myself that I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve worked too hard to let the man I am now slip through my fingers.
“Briggs, honey, I know... I know you are still hurting, but we’re your family. Your father and I miss you, your brother…”
I cut my eyes at her at the mention of him. “I’m not ready. I won’t be ready, for a long time, Mom. Look, I miss the way things used to be too. I miss when things weren’t so badly messed up… I just can’t. I’m sorry if that hurts you.”
Mom’s face falls and I almost regret my words, but there’s too much history. Too much anger. Too much betrayal. Not only did my brother destroy the relationship between he and me, leaving it in irreparable pieces, he tore our entire family apart.
“I understand, I just wish that things were different. I wish that as your mother, I could take away the pain that you’re feeling. I wish I could fix this.”
Shaking my head, I say, “But you can’t, Mom. That’s the truth, and it’s better if you accept it for what it is. I have. Dad has. He’s made his position on the matter more than apparent, and he’s standing by Beau, no matter what. Right or wrong.”
Tears well in her eyes, as she walks over to me, pulling me into her arms. “I’m sorry, Briggs. Your dad... He-Your dad loves you. I hope you know that, despite anything else, we both love you. So much.”
Most of the time when my mother comes over, we avoid talking about our family turmoil at all costs, so this conversation reopens old wounds, causing the pain to consume me once more. Not that it has ever gone away, not by any means; it’s more like a dull, aching kind of pain that’s always there, just under the surface.
“I’ll call you soon, okay?” I tell her.
She sniffles but pulls back, and quickly wipes away her tears. “You going anywhere for the off-season?”
I shrug, not really having thought about a vacation. “Probably not. I’m coaching the Mighty Pucks still, and we’re gearing up for games. Can’t miss it.”
“It makes me so happy that you’re still involved with those kids. I’m proud of you.” She gives me a quick hug, minus the tears this time, before picking her purse off the table in the foyer and walking toward the front door. “I know you can’t see it right now, but you’ve changed Briggs. I see it each time I look at you. Soon that pain in your heart will fade, and the kind of man you are, once that pain fades, is what matters. I love you.”