We don’t go to a restaurant. Instead we get takeout from our favorite diner and drive to a park near the arena. Randy and I walk to our spot. It’s private and secluded. We had sex here once in the middle of the day, hidden in a thicket of trees. Afterward we went home and fucked the night away.
That’s not part of the plan today. I don’t think sex is even on Randy’s mind. That could be a first.
“My dad wasn’t always a huge asshole.” He takes a bite of his ham and cheese wrap and chews thoughtfully. “When I was little, I remember going to his games. There were a couple of seasons where he got decent ice time. I was maybe five or six. Brynne was, like, tiny, and we’d all go to the home games like the other families. It was good. Things were good.”
A butterfly lands on Randy’s tattooed hand. “Take a picture,” he whispers.
I’m quick to get my phone and snap several before she takes off again, leaving just the two of us.
“We used to shoot the puck around all the time when he wasn’t away. He was a great teacher. For a while he was a great dad.”
These are the things Randy doesn’t talk about much. Most of our conversations about his father have been brief and disparaging.
“When did that change?” I ask.
Randy twirls a lock of my hair between his fingers. “When his career stalled out maybe? No. That’s not true. I think when he made it to the top of his game things started to change. The first year he made the NHL, things were good. Great. That was the year we went to a lot of home games.” He drops my hair and looks up at the clear blue sky. “But the next year… I started noticing all the women wearing his jersey. The fighting started soon after that. And we stopped going to see him play.”
“Do you think that’s when your dad started cheating?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever know for sure when it started. I mean, it could’ve been going on the entire time. But I assume that’s when Mom found out, or put it together or whatever. There were a lot of fights and tears for a few years. I don’t think it helped that he stopped getting as much ice time. There was talk about him being traded, or moving back to the farm team. My mom didn’t want to move us, and I didn’t really get it back then.”
“That would’ve been a lot of turmoil.”
“Yeah. It was, even though in the end we didn’t have to move. Then I had that accident, and that was it. My dad moved out. He got traded to another farm team on the West Coast, and we barely ever saw him anymore. It was the hardest on my sister, and, well, obviously my mom. He paid child support and stayed on the farm team for a while, and we all kind of moved on without him. Now he drops back into my life once or twice a year and fucks things up.”
“Because he brings back all those memories?”
“And because we’re essentially the same person. Sometimes I wonder how my mom can even stand to look at me.”
My heart breaks for him. I hate that he carries this burden based solely on what he looks like and his skill set. “You’re not the same person, though, Randy.”
“In a lot of ways we are.”
“I get that it’s difficult to separate yourself from him, especially when he shows up and craps all over your life, but you’re an incredible man. You’re loyal and honest and wonderful. Your personality is nothing like his, and your mom loves you like crazy.”
Randy tucks me into his side and rests his chin on top of my head. “I’m worried about the start of the season, Lily. I’m worried about being on the road all the time and you not being with me.”
“People choose for themselves whether or not they want to exercise self-control,” I remind him.
He presses his lips to my temple. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
I’ve been waiting for this conversation. It’s inevitable. Randy’s wanted more and more alone time with me over the past month as off-season wound down and he started gearing up for training. I’ve realized his anxiety and neediness lately are because of the change that’s coming. Soon his schedule will fill up with training sessions and practice. Not long after that, he’ll be off on his first series of away games.
I stroke his cheek, amazed that this man can allow himself to be vulnerable with me after everything he’s been through. “I don’t think you would ever intentionally seek to hurt me, Randy.”
“Me neither, but I keep thinking about that time you couldn’t make the game last season, and how that bunny wouldn’t leave me alone at the bar. I know nothing happened, but if it had, it would’ve fucked everything up.”
“We were still casual then, Randy. Neither one of us had acknowledged how we felt about each other.” I know this has weighed on him since the beginning, and his dad being here, along with the changes we’re about to face, has stirred it up again.
He sighs. “That’s because I was being stupid. I was already all about you, and I still considered it.”
“I think you need to let that go. We can’t live in a world of what ifs. We weren’t ready to face feelings at that point. Denial was safer emotionally for both of us at the time. We’re in a different place now; we love each other, and that changes how we manage those kinds of situations.”
“My dad loved my mom, and he still managed to fuck that up, though. I don’t understand why you’d make that kind of commitment to someone and shit all over it. It’s fucked up, isn’t it? It’s hard to see the way he is now and know at one point he was actually a decent person.”
Randy’s conflict over this makes me sad for him. It’s clear he wants to make sense of it without having all the pieces of the puzzle. He’ll only ever had the glossed over and hazy childhood version of events. I guess in a lot of ways not having a father uncomplicates things for me. “I don’t know who your dad was when you were younger. I don’t know the dynamics of your relationship with him, or how his relationship was with your mom, or what happened exactly to change that, but I do know that you’ve spent a lot of time afraid of becoming him when really you should focus on being you.”
“I just see so much of myself in him; it’s hard not to feel like his path is going to be mine.”
“You’ve already made better choices, though, haven’t you?”