Play With Me: Chapter 18

East coast winters suck.

I don’t often find myself missing them, unless Vancouver has a particularly mild winter and pond hockey is off the table. I’ve been here two days and have spent hours whipping around the frozen pond with friends or taking my sisters out for a skate.

But right now I’m on my ass in the snow on the front lawn of my childhood home, getting pummeled by snowballs.

A particularly hard and icy one smacks me dead in the nuts, and I fall to my back, groaning.

“Oops,” Alexa says, which is how I know she did it on purpose.

“Garrett! Are you okay?” Gabby scrunches her nose, grits her teeth, and with a battle cry that echoes in the frigid air, charges at Alexa. The two of them collide, tumbling to the ground, shrieking as the snow swirls around them.

Stephie’s face appears overtop of me, blocking the sun. “Me and you are the only normal ones,” she says plainly, then tries to pull me up. She’s ten, all scrawny, gangly limbs, and probably seventy pounds soaking wet. I’m two hundred plus. The effort is there, but it’s not working.

I lie there lifeless, and eventually she gives up, dropping on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs.

She rolls off, lying beside me in the snow, and smiles. “I really miss you when you’re not here. I wish you could come home more.”

“I think we should convince Mom and Dad to move to Vancouver. Then we’d never have to miss each other.”

“Fat chance. Dad says you guys don’t have good lobster there.”

You can get good anything anywhere if you make as much money as I do, but there really is nothing like east coast lobster. It’s why I wound up wearing one of those plastic bibs last night at the Harbour Lobster Pound. Conversation was limited, the moaning at top peak. I ate so much I crashed early and missed Jennie’s call.

In fact, with our clashing schedules, we haven’t talked much since I last saw her. At least I get to see her during her recital tonight, even if it’s only on TV.

When the sun starts to dip, the chill in the air too damp to be fun anymore, we retreat to the warmth, and I text Jennie.

“Garrett’s texting his girlfriend!” Gabby shrieks as she leaps over the back of the couch and onto my back, trying to tackle me to the ground. “He called her sunshine!”

“She’s not my girlfriend, you little monster.” I wrap my arm around her head and tickle her ribs, laughing as she tries to fight me off. “Jennie’s just my friend.”

She spins out of my grasp and jumps to her feet. Breathless, she swipes her dark blonde hair from where it’s plastered to her cheeks. “Yeah, a friend you watch Christmas movies with and make ice cream sundaes for.” She sticks her tongue out, dashing away with a squeal when I lunge for her.

“Jennie,” Mom murmurs from where she’s working over the stove. She casts me a glance over her shoulder. “Not Jennie Beckett?”

When I don’t respond, her mouth gapes.

“Garrett Andersen, please tell me you’re not dating your captain’s little sister.”

“Okay. I’m not dating my captain’s little sister.”

She pops a fist on her hip, expression unamused.

“What? We’re not dating. We’re just friends.” Technically not a lie.

“Does Carter know you’re friends?”

“Uh, yeah. We live in the same building. He knows.” Still not a lie.

“Okay, let me rephrase my question. Does Carter know you’re watching movies at night with his little sister and making her ice cream sundaes?”

I cross my arms and look away, grumbling, “Shut up.” Gabby meets my gaze from where she’s partially hidden behind the wall. I point a finger at her. “You’re in trouble.”

A maniacal giggle leaves her mouth. “Alexa has a boyfriend too! Jacob Daniels!”

“Gabby!” Alexa shrieks.

“I saw them holding hands at recess!” Gabby screams, running down the hallway, bedroom door slamming shut moments before Alexa collides with it.

Stephie meets my gaze. “What’d I tell ya? The only normal ones.”

“What about you?” I poke her side. “Any boyfriends?”

Her cheeks blaze and she looks at her hands in her lap.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Her eyes lift, searching mine. “What if I want a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend?”

I tug her into my side, kissing her hair. “Then you want a girlfriend; that’s all there is to it.”

Stephie sinks against me, and the phone on the wall rings before my mom grabs it. My parents are the only people I know who still have a house phone.

Mom turns away, voice low. “Well, what time can we expect you? Your son is only home for a couple of days…I didn’t say that. I know you’re being safe. It’d just be nice if you could spend some more—okay, okay. We’ll see you when you get home.” She hangs up, giving me a tight smile.

“Everything okay?”

“Your dad’s going for dinner with the guys from work.”

I’m not surprised. He’s mostly made himself scarce since I got in yesterday morning. He picked me up from the airport, and it was an awkward drive home, forcing conversation that didn’t want to come.

I love my dad, and I know he loves me, but I also know he feels an overwhelming sense of guilt for his absence in my childhood and the pain he caused. He went through a lot of therapy, made the effort to repair our relationship when he returned to our lives, but I think it’s been easier for him with me gone all these years. Sometimes I feel like nothing more than a reminder of his struggles.

I’m glad my sisters got a different version of him, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing our relationship were different now, especially when he eventually walks in the door and my sisters rush him, hugging him.

“Hey, Gare.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Sorry I missed dinner. What are you guys up to?” His eyes are tired and red rimmed, and his gaze doesn’t linger long on mine. My brain tells me to search the air for any hint of vanilla spice, the smoky aroma of his old drink of choice. My heart reminds my brain that we trust him.

“We’re gonna watch Garrett’s girlfriend’s dance recital,” Gabby tells him as I set up the livestream.

“She’s not his girlfriend,” Alexa mumbles.

I shake her knee. “Thanks, Lex.”

I sink into the couch as a group of ballerinas take the stage, and Gabby snuggles into my side, Stephie between my legs on the floor. Alexa looks at me and Gabby and slowly, so damn slowly, starts inching closer.

Grinning, I grab her, jerking her into my side. “Come here, you.”

She giggles, relaxing against me, and my dad smiles down at us.

He claps his fist into his hand as my mom finds a space. “Uh, do you mind if I…join you guys?”

“Of course you can,” I tell him. The way he grins, going instantly from awkward to ecstatic, reminds me so much of myself during those first few encounters with Jennie.

He brews mugs of hot chocolate for everyone, extra marshmallows, and turns the lights out. “Which one is your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my—” I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face, but when the spotlight illuminates the next dancers, when the music starts and Jennie’s body comes to life, I lean forward. “There she is.”

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything so stunning. Draped in a deep emerald dress, long hair braided back with a champagne ribbon, she outshines everyone as she floats across the stage. Every leap, every spin, everything she does looks effortless and natural, exactly like she was born to do it.

Jennie and Simon are an extension of each other, always connected in some way. He seems to know where she is even when he can’t see her, and a strange feeling surges through me, like I want to take her hand and tug her into me, hide her away for only me.

I push the thought from my head, focusing on my favorite person as she dances several times throughout the ninety-minute recital, all while my family comments on how beautifully she moves. When it comes to an end, Jennie the last on stage, my chest swells with pride, and I stay up late so I can tell her just that when she calls.

When Jennie’s bright beam fills my screen, it hits me why sunshine is the perfect nickname for her—because she’s radiating, and when she wears that wide smile, deep dimples pulled in, stormy blue eyes shining with excitement, she fucking glows.

“What did you think?” She might be vibrating.

“You were incredible, Jennie.”

Her eyes spark with excitement. “You really think so?”

“I’m so proud of you. You were breathtaking.”

She fiddles with the bow at the end of her braid. “I was thinking about you up there. I…I wasn’t sure you were still going to watch. You didn’t answer my call last night, so I thought maybe…” She lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “I donno. Forget it. It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought you went home and maybe forgot about me.” Her face flames and she waves a hand through the air. “Stupid.”

I haven’t quite figured it out, but Jennie brings an ache to my chest that wasn’t there before her. She’s an enigma, this bold, confident woman who refuses to settle yet always seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s like she’s expecting me to walk away at any moment, like this relationship isn’t as valuable to me as it is to her.

“Haven’t we already covered that you’re very missable?”

Jennie flips her braid over her shoulder. “So true. You’d never survive without me.”

I chuckle, stretching out on the small bed, folding an arm behind my head. “I’m sorry I missed your call last night. I ate so much lobster I passed out at nine and slept for fourteen hours straight. Did you think I was ignoring your call?”

She pulls her knees to her chest, smile guilty. Her teeth descend on her bottom lip, gnawing until she finally works up the courage to say what she wants to. “Will you do me a favor? When you want to stop this, like if you meet someone and you wanna hook up or date or whatever, will you end this before anything happens with them? I don’t want to feel stupid or anything.”

Her question catches me off guard, but every time she shows me pieces of her vulnerability, I’m surprised. She used to say she wished she could see inside my head, but lately I’m finding I wish I could see inside hers.

“Committed, remember? There won’t be anyone else.”

Jennie rolls her eyes. “Garrett, you’re a rich, professional hockey player. And you’re hot as balls. You’re meeting girls all the time.”

“Sure, and when that’s all they see, they’re not it for me.”

Shame slashes her delicate features. “I didn’t mean…I know there’s more to you than that, Garrett.”

“I don’t want you being insecure about this. Yes, I meet lots of girls, and admittedly, I could do this with any number of them. But there’s a reason I’m doing it with you. I like you, Jennie. You’re fun and you make me laugh. I like to boss you around in the bedroom and you like to boss me around the rest of the time. We’re compatible, and the chemistry is explosive, which is why I think this works so well. On top of that, you’re quickly climbing your way to the top of my best friend list.”

Her nose does that cute wrinkle thing. “You’re just saying that.”

I’m not though. I don’t know when she became my favorite person to hang out with, but she is. I find myself thinking about her when I’m out with the guys after a game, or warming up on the ice. I text her for no reason at all, simply because I like talking to her.

I’m having fun here, seeing my old friends, spending Christmas with my family, but I can’t wait to get home, spend a night reminding Jennie how much I enjoy her company. Because for some fucked-up reason, I think she might see herself as disposable.

“Plus, our snowmen handprints look bomb next to each other on my tree.”

Jennie laughs, and any lingering tension dissipates, her shoulders falling as she chats animatedly about the recital, the dinner Carter took everyone to afterward.

It’s two in the morning here and ten at night there when I ask Jennie, “If you could wake up tomorrow and have the thing you wanted most for Christmas, what would it be?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth, and even more so when Jennie’s gaze flickers, the light in her eyes dimming.

I know the answer. It’s the same for any person who’s lost someone special.

More time. One more hug. The good-bye they never got.

Jennie reaches for that invisible locket, the one that’s supposed to be hanging from her neck. “Princess Bubblegum. It’s stupid, I know. It’s just a stuffed animal, just a necklace. I can’t get my dad back, but…at least I got to carry him with me.”

She surprises me then with a smile, wide and brilliant. Even with so much lingering sadness, it’s easily the most breathtaking smile I’ve ever seen.

“Have you ever seen The Parent Trap? It was my favorite movie when I was younger. Annie and her butler had this secret handshake. It was this huge thing, super extravagant. My dad and I, we spent hours learning it. We’d do it every day. Every single day. Before he left for work, before he tucked me into bed.” She smiles wistfully at the memory. “I think if I could have anything, something that were actually possible…it would be cool to do that handshake again.” She waves a hand through the air. “What would you ask for?”

My thoughts drift to earlier tonight, the way my family was whole as we sat on the couch together and laughed, just…existed together, happy and carefree. So I tell Jennie exactly that.

When I’m done, she asks, “You and your dad don’t have the best relationship?”

“It’s just strained. He carries a lot of guilt, and the time away from each other allows the distance in our relationship to grow.”

“What does he feel guilty about? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” With a tired sigh, I drag a hand through my hair. “My parents were high school sweethearts, and my mom had me when she was seventeen. When I was six, they got married. My dad…I guess he felt like he missed out on a lot of things, becoming a father so young. He started drinking a lot, and it spiraled out of control pretty quickly. My mom decided enough was enough when he forgot to pick me up from hockey practice when I was nine because he was drunk at a bar.”

Jennie’s expression is careful while I tell her about my parents’ short-lived marriage, my dad’s struggle with alcohol, even after my mom left him, but her eyes shine with hurt for me, hold the betrayal I felt all those years ago when the person I was supposed to be able to rely on most was never able to be there for me because he wasn’t coherent enough to do so.

“When I was eleven, my dad took me for dinner. We went to this shady dive bar. It was dark and reeked like stale beer. I ate my pizza in silence while he drank. One hour turned into two, and eventually it was after ten on a school night.” My hand slides along my jaw at the memory that makes my throat tight. “I drove home because he couldn’t.”

“Garrett.” Jennie gasps softly. “You were only eleven.”

“Our neighbor saw me trying to drag him up the pathway and into the house. My dad lost his license and all visitation rights.”

“I’m sorry, Garrett. That sounds so difficult. I wish I could hug you.”

“It is what it is. In the end, it was for the best. It was the push he needed to get help, and he did. He put the work in, and he hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since. I’m proud of him.”

“You’re a good son.”

“When you told me you didn’t drink, I had to kind of sit on that for a while. Maybe I’d made the wrong decision by drinking after everything my dad went through, after what he put me and my mom through. Should I have avoided it?” I shrug. “Maybe. Probably. But I guess I didn’t want to let his past mistakes control my life.”

I see the wheels turning as Jennie contemplates my words. “Do you think I let the way my dad died control my life by choosing not to drink?”

“I don’t think that at all, Jennie. I think you saw the devastating effects alcohol could have on a family and you decided you wanted nothing to do with it. We handle it differently, and neither of us is wrong.”

“I’m glad you don’t let your dad’s past affect you.”

“Sometimes I think it does. Not much, but a little. When he was drinking, he said a lot of things he didn’t mean, or maybe he did. A lot of hurtful things, regardless, so eventually I learned it was safer to keep my mouth shut. If I was quiet, I was less likely to be on the receiving end of his words. Sometimes I still have trouble speaking my mind, like I’m worried someone might not like what I have to say.”

Guilt tugs at Jennie’s mouth. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t speak freely with me before.”

I shake my head, chuckling quietly. “I appreciate the apology, but it’s not necessary. Sure, I was intimidated by you and that made it hard for me to talk around you. But that’s because you were sexy as hell, spoke your mind, and I wanted you but knew I could never have you. There was a good chance anything I said was gonna get me de-dicked, by either you or your brother.”

She flashes a grin, dimple-popping and extra charming. “I would never de-dick you. I love your dick.”

“You’d love him more if you let him inside your Disneyland.”

Jennie laughs, but there’s a strain behind it, a sign she’s retreating just a little. She drops her gaze, and silence beats between us. I don’t know when the fuck I’ll learn to keep my mouth shut, to think a little harder before I speak. Ironic, considering the conversation we just had. But now that I’ve gotten to know Jennie, I feel at ease with my thoughts. I don’t feel like I need to withhold them from her so much, because I know she appreciates my honesty.

So while the intent behind my words may have been innocent to me, I can recognize they might sound different to Jennie.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push you to have sex with me, and I realize it must sound like that. I respect your decision, and I won’t bring it up again.”

Jennie nods, tracing some sort of pattern on her bedspread.

“You can talk to me though; you have to know that.”

Her head lifts, blue eyes careful. “Talk to you about what?”

“About what happened.”

Her gaze goes hazy and dark. “Did Carter tell you?”

“No, Jennie. Carter didn’t tell me anything.”

I wish I were there to have this talk with her in person. Her first instinct is always to run, and mine is to hug. All I want to do is wrap her in my arms and promise her there’s another side to whatever happened, an ending where she’s able to move past it and stop letting it impact her life the way it does.

“You shut down every time we go down any direction that leads toward high school, exes, and sex. That’s how I know. And I want you to know that if you ever want to share it, I’ll keep it safe.” I’ll keep you safe.

She picks at her blanket, licks her lips. “Do you think we’d be friends even without Carter? If you sat down next to me in a coffee shop?”

“I think we share a connection that goes beyond your brother. With or without him, I wouldn’t hesitate to place you in my life and keep you there.”

There’s something so heartbreaking about the spark of life those simple words bring to her eyes, the way she bites back this trembling smile that wants to spring free, like she’s never felt so wanted and she doesn’t know what to do with the feeling. It makes me want to dedicate the rest of my life to making sure she never goes without it again.

“I’d like to tell you one day, but I’m not ready.” Jennie’s eyes search mine, begging for patience. “Is that okay?”

“When you’re ready, Jennie, I’m here.”

The gratitude shining in her smile throws me for a loop. It’s like all she’s needed all this time was for somebody to give her the chance to navigate a new friendship, a meaningful relationship, time for her to feel at ease to open up and be herself. I’m happy and honored to be that person, but I’m sad she’s spent years without one. I want her to feel safe to be herself with me.

But I have one more question, one that’s been hanging like a heavy cloud above me. “Jennie? I just have to know one thing.” When she nods, I ask, “Did he hurt you?”

Her hand goes to her braid as her gaze falls. “Not physically, no.”

“Please don’t brush off whatever happened because he didn’t leave bruises on your body. Bruises you can’t see can hurt just as much as the ones you can.”

Her eyes lift cautiously to mine, showing me unshed tears. “They hurt a little less when I’m with you,” she whispers. “Thank you for being my friend, Garrett. I think I really needed you.”

The heaviness wanes as Jennie asks me about my sisters, what we’ve been getting up to. She laughs and smiles, and I revel in each one she graces me with as I sit here thinking about that fucking f-word, the label I was so eager to shove on us.

Friends.

What the fuck was I thinking?