Talk Hockey to Me (Bears Hockey #3) - Kelly Jamieson Page 0,70
Coke when my phone beeps with a call.
Holy shit, it’s Roberta already.
I answer the call. “Hi. Roberta?”
“Yes! Hi, Hunter. I’m so surprised to hear from you.”
“I’m in town.” I pause, staring out the window with hot eyes. “I’m, uh, having a hard time. I was wondering if I could see you.”
There’s a brief pause, then I hear the clicking of a mouse. “I am so booked up,” she says, and my heart dips. “But you know what? I could see you tonight. Six o’clock?”
I lick my lips. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Okay. Great. Same place, right?”
“Yes, that’s right. See you then.”
I end the call and blow out a long stream of air. Okay. Okay, that’s done, that’s good.
Now I’m really wired up. I walked all morning, now what am I going to do? Maybe it’s a good day to rent a surfboard and hit the waves.
That’s how I spend the afternoon, floating, catching waves, trying to keep my balance. It takes my focus away from my screwed-up thoughts until it’s time to drive to Roberta’s office a couple of blocks off Main Street.
I wait in the private entrance, which I learned is separate from the exit so people don’t run into each other. I always appreciated the protection of privacy, and even more so now.
Roberta’s door opens and she steps into the opening. “Hello, Hunter.”
“Hi.” I stand. “How are you?”
“I’m very well, thank you.”
I feel a rush of almost affection. We spent so much time together and she helped me so much, but her demeanor is always professional and polite. We don’t even shake hands.
I follow her and she closes the door. The room is the same, but she has new furniture, a nice blue couch and several armchairs. I sit in a chair. Through the window I can see the coffee shop across the street.
“Are you here on vacation?” Roberta asks me, also taking a seat. Her short silver hair frames a kind face with big red glasses, her lips also red.
“Sort of. It’s the off season.” One thing I learned about Roberta is that she knows nothing about hockey. I explain to her briefly how I came to be here.
She listens attentively as always and asks a few questions that get me talking. I tell her about my career and needing a new contract and a new agent at the same time, and what’s transpired.
“So up until this happened, you feel you were doing well?” she asks.
“Yeah. I was. There are still things that bother me, but I handle them. I’ve put the accident in the past.”
“Hmmm.”
What does that mean?
“You’ve done very well with your life,” Roberta says. “I’m happy to see it. You’ve overcome so much. You have the career you always wanted. You had the courage to go after it and do it.”
I swallow. “Unless I’ve messed things up now. Again.”
“You’re worried that you’ve repeated what happened in the past?”
I nod. “Yeah.” My chest is tight, my gut churning.
“It’s human nature to hold on to what we know. Change is threatening. But the thing about trauma is that’s it’s part of your life forever. You say you’ve put the accident in the past, and that’s where it is. But it still has power over you.”
I slowly lift my chin in acknowledgement.
“If you try to deny that…if you try to bury it or ignore it…it can have even more power over you.”
I gaze at her, trying to absorb her words and their meaning. “Are you saying that because I don’t want to play with those guys, it’s having even more of an effect on me?”
She gives a half-smile. “What do you think?”
I think…oh Christ. I think she’s right. I close my eyes and relive my conversations with Kate, my protests that seeing them would affect my mental health. Meanwhile, I’m a fucking mess.
“Okay,” I say hoarsely. “Yeah.”
“Past trauma has a way of inserting itself into your future, whether you want that or not. But if you’re willing to face it, you may find yourself open to the possibility of growth that brings.”
Face it. Goddammit.
She continues. “The more comfortable you are bringing your past into your present, the less control it has over your life. I believe you have to honor and respect what brought you to this point of your life. At the same time, you have to create space to grow into where you are going. Staying where you are isn’t growing.”