Moving on doesn't mean you forget about things.
It just means you have to accept what happened and continue living.
—Erza Scarlet
____________________________________
JAKE
MARCH
7:30am and I was awake, which wasn't too bad. I bent down and scooped Emma out of her crib, her blue footy-PJS all bunched up in the wrong places.
"Dada," she greeted me with a smile, pink elephant and all.
"Hi, buddy," I smoothed some of her brown curls back and fixed her tiny clothes. "You slept late this morning."
Emma's response was to stick her thumb in her mouth and snuggle into me. I made my way into the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee. She reached towards it.
"Hot." I pointed at the coffee. Emma looked up at me. "Hot," I repeated as we sat down at the dining room table.
"Aw, Jake, I would have gotten her, sweetie," Mom said to me as she turned the next page in the newspaper.
I was kind of shocked they still had the newspaper delivered, but at the same time it was also nice. It reminded me of weekends when I was little, before technology was relevant. I would wake up, run into the kitchen and both of my parents would be reading the newspaper and drinking their coffee. Then Dad would make waffles, eggs, and bacon. After that, I would either have a hockey game to go to or I would grab my gear and run down to meet the guys at the pond or in the street if it wasn't winter.
"It's okay, I was awake anyways." I snapped out of my minor flashback to a simpler time.
"Hi, Pretty," Mom said to Emma rubbing her leg.
"Hi, Pretty," Emma repeated before looking away. Since Emma started talking, that was about the only thing she would repeat. She hadn't started asking "why" yet, or anything like that. Just, 'hi, Pretty.'
"Is Grandma pretty?" I asked Emma as Mom opened a yogurt for her.
Emma stared at Mom for a minute, taking her in: happy eyes, warm smile, loving arms; and then she looked up at me and nodded.
"Grandma is pretty?" Mom asked, grabbing one of Emma's feet and her excited laughter filled the room.
"So pretty." I told Emma who laughed some more. "Sooooo pretty."
"Thinking about the game tonight?" Mom asked before trying to feel Emma a spoonful of yogurt, who had other things in mind and pushed the yogurt away.
"I'm ready." I nodded.
"You should do some yoga. Get nice and relaxed, and loose," Mom said as I took a sip of my coffee.
"Yeah that's a good idea. I think I will."
"Any word from J-U-L-E-S?" she spelled out Jules's name.
"Nope." I tried not to frown at Emma, who had seemingly been abandoned by her own mother without so much as a goodbye or second thought.
I don't think Mom knew what to say because she just pursed her lips together before shaking her head. Same, Mom. Same. "Have you tried calling her?"
"A million and three times."
"Texting?" she tried to grasp at and idea. Something. Anything I might not have thought of.
I nodded. "I've been down every single avenue, every social media platform. Nothing. No response." I rested my chin on Emma's head. "She doesn't want her anymore," I said. "She doesn't want us." Emma's little fingers wrapped around my larger finger.
"I'm gonna go do that yoga now. I think Calum and Derek are coming over."
"It's barely 8 o'clock, hunny. Are they even awake?"
I had to smile at that. "It's semi-finals, Mom. Of course they're awake."
"Derek Leighton is going to do yoga?" She raised her eyebrows at Emma which elicited a giggle from Emma. "Uncle Derek can barely touch his toes!" She put her hands out to Emma, who kicked her feet.
"Wait till you see Uncle Derek's Crow pose." I laughed. I stood up and took Emma with me.
"Jake, she's gotta eat." Mom held the yogurt out to me.
"She'll eat later. It's fine." I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I don't think she'll starve." Mom gave me a stern stare until a took the yogurt from her. "Okay, okay. I'll do it."
"Thank you," she smiled sweetly at me before turning her attention back to the morning paper. Onto the crossword puzzle.
△
I got the yoga mat out and laid it down in the living room and then I lied face down on it, praying that maybe I would fall asleep or some brilliant idea would come to me as to how we were going to beat Brighton tonight. They were good. Obviously they were good, but what I meant was they didn't make it to playoffs through shit luck. Brighton in the playoffs was no accident. They're goalie was being scouted by colleges, junior teams, and pro teams. He had been the starting Varsity goalie since he was a freshman, an impressive feat at the least. Throughout their entire sixteen game season, he only let in seven goals. Six of those games were shutouts. It was like he knew where the puck was before it even left the other guy's stick. Calum and I were going to really have to work for it tonight.
I felt Emma's tiny feet against my side, and her hands soon followed as she climbed onto my back, laying down on top of me. She rubbed my shoulder with one of her hands. I wanted to roll over and look at her, but I didn't want to knock her off, because last time she hit her head and I nearly had a panic attack. "What are you doing, Emms?" She babbled some response, which I decoded as: Just hanging out, what does it look like? "Can you get off Daddy so he can do some yoga?" I asked, and a few moments later Emma slid off, crawling around to where my face was. I kissed her forehead and she buried her face into my arm.
She sat up, playing with some blocks that were on the floor. I went into the downward dog pose. "Where's the 1?" I asked her. Emma held up the number 4 and I laughed. "Close, buddy." I dropped into a plank and then rose back up into Mountain. Emma crawled onto my mat and stuck her butt up in the air, copying me. I looked at and she smiled up at me. "Good job, Emmy. Lift one leg up," I told her, watching as Emma tried and ended up falling over onto her side. "You okay?" I asked.
"Ya," she answered going back into the pose and trying again.
Her hair fell across her face and I really wish I had put a barrette in. There was a knock on the door and Calum and Derek walked in. Emma stared at the two people for a moment before crawling out from underneath me and running over to Derek, arms out. Without a second thought, he picked her up. "Hey, Superstar." He fixed her footie PJs which were all twisted from Emma's attempt at yoga. "Are you helping Daddy get ready for the big game tonight?" He walked over to me, sitting down next to me.
"Ya," Emma nodded.
"Are you gonna help Uncle Derek ready?"
"Say 'absolutely not.'" Calum shook his head. "No way!"
Emma paid no attention to him and instead clapped for Derek.
"She totally likes me more." Derek stuck his tongue out at Calum and Emma grabbed it.
"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Leight. I don't need her doing that." I laughed as Emma wiped her slimy hand on Derek's shirt before settling further into his lap, but unfortunately for Emma, Derek put her down on the hardwood floor so he could start doing yoga.
"He's not thinking straight since the breakup, bro," Calum told me walking over with a cup of coffee.
"Thanks for reminding me." Derek punched him.
"You alright, man?" I asked him.
"I'm good. I mean, I will be. Yeah, I'm fine." His words came out rushed, like he really didn't know what to say.
"Sorry, Leight." I told him, even though I was secretly happy they broke up.
"She said she likes you," Derek said, which caught me so off guard, I fell out of whatever pose I was doing and almost knocked Calum's coffee over.
"W-what?" I asked.
"Don't looked so shocked. You have to have noticed her staring at you." Derek transitioned into Crow. I knew Katie liked me, but I didn't know she liked me enough to break up with Derek.
"I—" I opened my mouth to say something, anything. But I had nothing. My mind went blank.
"Wow, this is the first time in a long time I've seen you speechless, Rossy," Calum said, taking a sip of his coffee.
I swallowed the lump in my throat before pushing Katie out of my mind. She was not going to mess this game up for me tonight. "Whatever. Let's just do some yoga." I shook my head, clearing out all of my thoughts. "Got a big game tonight." I reminded them.
"No girls, no problem." Calum nodded.
△
It was 3-2. Third period. Eleven minutes remaining. We were down by one. The fact that we scored once was a miracle and our second goal must have meant that Wayne Gretzky was on the ice with us tonight. If we wanted any chance at State, we needed to score two more, so we were going to need Gordie Howe and Bobby Orr too. I'm not sure how Brighton managed to score three goals, since their offensive line wasn't really anything to brag about, but they managed to take their opportunities when they could and catch our defense off guard. On the other hand, we were firing shot after shot, hoping a few of them would sneak by their goalie. So far that strategy had been a good one, but with time running out, we needed to change things up. Coach was way ahead of me, because he had everything figured out, right down to the line changes.
"Line change! Let's go, let's go!" Coach shouted, making a rolling motion with his hand.
Derek and Ryder jumped up and flung themselves over the boards. "Create opportunities, boys!" Dad called.
Dougie, Calum, and I got up and waited for the offense to change. "Make some space," he reminded us. "Place 'em." He pointed towards the net.
"Ready?" Calum stuck his glove out towards me.
"Let's score some." I knocked my glove against his before hurdling over the boards.
Brighton was about to experience a third period team. That's what we had been labeled this season, since that's when we scored most of our goals if we were losing. As soon as my skates touched the ice, I raced off towards my position, which was conveniently also where the play was happening.
Two Brighton players had Derek pinned up against the boards, puck and all, with no way of getting out. I threw my shoulder into one of guys, trying to even the playing field and make an opening for Derek to wiggle out. "Drop," I called out, letting him know where I was.
"Support, support." Calum was square to Derek's position, trying to give him a second option.
Seconds later, the puck popped out and I watched Calum snatch it up without a second thought and bring it around the goal. I saw Ryder racing in from up top, calling for the puck. "Corner!" Calum told Ryder after he sent it over towards him. Just like in practice, he received it with grace, pulled a move around a defender and then placed a perfect shot. I couldn't have done it any better if I was the one shooting. It was pure textbook. We all held our breath as the puck sailed by the goalie's stick, pinged off the crossbar and hit the back of the net with a good amount of force. The goalie didn't even have a chance to blink. How's that for third period? Ryder got down on one knee and gave a fist pump, cellying.
The goal buzzer went off, a red light flashing. The roar of the crowd finally set in. I saw Chuck point at Ava.
"Ay, Ryder!" I skated over to him, slinging my arm around his shoulder.
"Atta boy, boy!" Calum cuffed him over the head.
"Dude, you're so getting laid tonight," I said to him.
"He knows it," Dougie laughed as we knocked gloves with our teammates on the bench who were all banging their sticks against the boards.
"That's what I like to see, boys!" Coach shouted. "That's what I like to see!" He waved his clipboard at us.
"We gotta win first." Ryder said as we set back up at centre ice.
"Alright, baby, let's win then." Calum held his arms out to the side.
△
Tuckett's Pond was the place I went to whenever I had a problem. Dad had been taking me here since before I could walk, and the boys and I had been playing pick-up hockey here since we were seven. An beat up milk crate of hockey pucks and a goal was all anyone needed to have a good time. I was still decompressing from the game last night and I was still slightly very hungry hungover, so we weren't talking much. Just skating. I wasn't shooting much, just playing around with the puck, working on some moves.
"That was a nice win you guys pulled off against Brighton last night," Dad was the first one to speak.
"Yeah we caught them on their heels." I nodded.
"Ready for State?" he asked.
"I will be." I looked at the ice as I wove the puck around my skates.
"Are you gonna open it?" Dad asked the real question.
"I don't know." I shook my head. I really had no idea if I was going to or not. I mean, what if Emma wasn't mine? I couldn't go into State knowing that and I don't think I could give her to her "real" father after that. What if he didn't want her? "I don't know," I repeated before letting a puck go towards the goal. It ricocheted off the bottom of one of the posts, the high pitched ping carrying across the open snow-covered field. As for the where the puck ended up, I had no idea.
"That piece of paper doesn't mean diddly-squat." Dad retrieved some of the pucks from the goal. "But if you need to open it to feel some sort of..." he trailed off searching for the right word. "Closure or something like that, then you open it."
"Closure from what?" I wasn't sure if that was the right word or not.
"Closure from this whole ordeal." he passed me a puck. "Jules being pregnant, having a kid, Jules leaving, hockey, school... everything, Jake."
"Dad, this wasn't an ordeal." I felt myself shaking my head but knew he was right.
"This past year-and-a-half is not what most high school kids go through." He was quick to shake his head right back at me. I was almost positive he would have wagged his finger at me if he wasn't holding a hockey stick.
All I could do was nod because he was right.
"What if I don't want closure?" I asked after lobbing a puck towards the goal. "Or don't need it?" I rephrased my previous question. Who wouldn't want closure?
"Then don't open the letter." Dad shrugged. A tingly, electric feeling jolted down my spine and I knew that was definitely not the answer. But it seemed somewhat satisfying to have this information and not yet know what it was.
△
I stood in my room holding the envelope, staring at it. It felt like it weighed a million pounds, as if it was somehow trying to drag me down. Into the depths of hell. But then I thought of Emma and how innocent and sweet she was. She was inside this envelope and she wasn't hell. Not even close. I clutched my fingers tighter around it, trying to somehow make the results not bad, trying to prevent my entire world from slipping away. I looked back towards the door, half-expecting Jules to burst in at any moment and tell me the truth, save me from going through what I was about to endure. But that didn't happen. Of course that didn't happen. I took a deep breath and undid the seal, sliding my index finger from one end of the envelope to the other. I pulled out the sheets of paper that were folded twice over. But then I stopped and put the papers back into the envelope and shoved it deep into one of my drawers. As long as that information stayed unknown—unread—then it wouldn't be real. As long as I didn't know whether or not my kid was actually my kid, then it didn't matter.
I didn't want to know.
I couldn't know.
Not now.
Maybe not ever.