A few women smiled at Curtis when he passed them on the street, as though they were signalling their approval that he was on his way to do something romantic. When he entered the restaurant, it was packed just as he had predicted.
“Hey, Curtis. Miss you, brother,” said one waiter who zipped by Curtis with a loaded tray.
A customer at a nearby table said, “Look, it’s the black guy from that tournament.”
Curtis scanned the dining area for Megan.
He was about to ask someone if Megan was working when she shot out of the kitchen balancing a tray with half a dozen glasses of red wine on it. He made his way through the crowded area and stopped behind her. She was in the process of unloading the drinks at a table where six women were sitting. Megan noticed the women were looking past her and she turned around.
Curtis stood there with an embarrassed smile holding the flowers and chocolate. He was starting to wonder if he should have gotten better flowers and whether the chocolates were good enough when Megan put the tray down and jumped into his arms.
The women cheered and raised their glasses to salute Megan and Curtis while some other customers sitting nearby applauded. Earl, the manager, poked his head out to see what the commotion was all about and frowned. Curtis made eye contact with him, and Earl quickly retreated to the back.
They met at a nearby coffee shop later during Megan’s dinner break. Curtis went in early and grabbed a table by the door. When he saw Megan approaching from the sidewalk, he promised himself that he would find a way to make her smile every day.
They sat holding hands and urgently began to hammer out details on how to move forward, as though making up for lost time.
“My mother,” Curtis began, “is difficult. I know who she is, and I know what she’s done, but she’s still my mother, you know?”
Megan nodded.
“I’m all she’s got,” he continued. “I want a life with you, but I have to take care of her, too.”
“And I have my son,” Megan added. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he can be a giant pain in the ass.”
“Maybe a little.”
“He’s been through a lot,” Megan continued. “I have to take care of him, too. It’s my most important job. You know that.”
“He likes me now,” Curtis said confidently.
“Yes, I know he does.”
“Sell your place,” Curtis said suddenly. “My house is bigger. We’ll split the expenses, put the rest in the bank…or…”
“Or what?”
The “or what” was Curtis’s idea that they open a restaurant together. He explained to Megan that they could use some of the money from a future sale of Megan’s house, and Curtis could borrow against the equity built up in his home. They both understood what it took to run a busy restaurant, Curtis reasoned, and they both worked their tails off.
There were now less than ten minutes left before Megan had to return to her shift. She squeezed his hand.
“Think your mother will like me?”
“To be honest, not at first,” Curtis replied. “But she won’t have a choice.”
“Okay, I’m in, but only under one condition.”
Curtis gave her a puzzled look. “What is it?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You have to get a tattoo…and I get to say where it goes.”
97.
After the rally, Matt decided he would finally replace some of the items that Rachel swiped from his boat, like his microwave and mattress. First, though, he had to run an important errand that had been on his mind since apologizing to his mother. Even though Freddy offered to be his wingman again, Matt wanted to go about this one alone.
In the dressing room following the game, Matt thanked Freddy for pointing out that his mother was in the stands.
“I didn’t really see her,” Freddy smiled. “I just pretended to.”
“What? Why?”
“I just said that to straighten you out,” Freddy said. “Besides, I knew she’d be there.”
Matt’s mother had taken his father’s place waiting outside the dressing room for him to get into his street clothes, which took longer than usual in the crazy atmosphere following the overtime. They arranged to have dinner the following night at her place, and Matt was overjoyed at the prospect of sitting down with his mother and starting over after so many years. He felt like a gaping wound was slowly starting to close.
He crossed the busy downtown Toronto streets with a baseball cap on backwards and was circulating freely among the public. No one appeared to know or care who he was. There was a benefit to wearing a goalie mask.
It did not take too long to find the dive bar where he knew Rachel would be, especially since he had been there once before with her. Freddy suggested he be careful, but Matt’s consideration for his own safety was low on his priority list right now. He walked right into the darkly lit tavern and straight to the back, where he knew there would be a crowd of people playing pool.
Alex saw Rachel, but her back was to him. He kept a quick pace as he approached. When she turned around and saw him, she looked scared and before Matt could react, two large men grabbed him and pinned him against a wall. One of them pressed his pool cue under Matt’s chin.
“J-just hold on,” Matt said.
“Hey, take it easy,” the bartender laughed. “That’s the goalie from that tournament.”
“Who gives a shit?” the guy with the pool cue growled.
“I just came here to say something to Rachel,” Matt said. “That’s all, okay? I’m not here to start any trouble.”
“So say it from there,” Rachel said.
Rachel showed no signs of the affection she had showered Matt with for such a long time. Matt had not foreseen talking with a pool cue poking him under the chin.
“Okay,” he said. “I came to say I’m sorry.”
“I’m not getting you any more stuff,” Rachel said.
“I didn’t come here for anything,” Matt replied. “I treated you like shit and I don’t want to be that person ever again. I’m sorry.”
Matt looked at the two men holding him against the wall.
“Can you guys quit it now? I just want to leave.”
The two men looked at Rachel, who nodded, and they released their grip on Matt.
“I don’t have your stupid computer,” Rachel said.
“I don’t care about that anymore,” Matt replied.
He smiled politely at Rachel’s two impromptu bodyguards before adjusting his shirt and walking out.
“See you around,” he called out over his shoulder to Rachel.
He sensed that she was watching him go and hoped that would not be the last time he saw her. Rachel had her issues, but who was he to judge? Matt liked the idea of trying to repair their relationship, but his first order of business was getting to know his mother again.
98.
Hospital administrator Mary Sinclair had learned that decisions made by people under strenuous circumstances were often emotional and therefore could be unpredictable.
She was definitely surprised to take a call that morning from Eddie Mark. On the phone Eddie sounded very calm, which was a departure from the last time when he was in her office furious with Tommy’s parents. He mentioned that he had to attend a rally at noon for the team and wanted to know if she could help him make arrangements for later in the day. When Mary heard the details of those arrangements, she quickly agreed and promised Eddie everything would be ready by the time he arrived.
Now she was standing outside of Tommy’s room with Tommy’s parents. Eddie was sitting beside his friend and clutching the medal he’d just won in The Tournament. He had asked Mary to inform Tommy’s parents of what he intended to do and requested that they come to the hospital.
Eddie was taking a good long look at his friend. So many years had passed since that tragic incident, countless hours at Bridgepoint…so much guilt. Eddie finally understood that it would always hurt, but it was time to m
ove on. Tommy would want that, and it really was time.
Toronto’s overtime hero stood, leaned across the bed and carefully placed his medal over Tommy’s head.
He put his hand over Tommy’s one last time.
The sequence of events unfolded very quickly. With Eddie and Mary on one side, and Tommy’s parents on the other, Tommy was taken off life support and passed away peacefully within minutes. After he took his last breath, Eddie could have sworn that he saw small traces of a smile on his face.
Tommy’s parents held each other and looked on. Eddie walked over to them.
“I shouldn’t have judged you,” Eddie said. “I’m sorry I did that.”
Tommy’s father was emotional, but he managed to put his hand out. “Good luck, Eddie.”
“Thank you,” Eddie replied and shook hands.
Eddie looked at Mary and nodded thank you.
“Eddie?” Tommy’s mother called out.
“Yes?”
“What happened to Tommy was not your fault,” she said. “We hope you can move on with your life now.”
“I will,” Eddie replied.
99.
Helen Peters was so wired when she finally got home late following Game 7 that she wanted to go for a long run right then and there. But she was forced to wait, since she had to pay her annoying-but-reliable babysitter and send her home.
After the rally the next day, Helen got back to the house in time to say goodbye to Mike Hill. He waited in the driveway and didn’t want to leave without thanking her.
In return, she gave him a hug and thanked him for “you know, pulling me off that day.”
As soon as Mike left, Helen changed and went for a long, exhilarating run through High Park before stopping at the Grenadier for her coffee.
Helen wasn’t sure how things would go with Corey. The more time she spent away from him, the more she realized that as much as Corey instigated their fallout with his infidelity, Helen knew their marriage had been flawed and she had to bear at least some responsibility for that.
It was not all bad, though. They had two beautiful kids and that would be their focus. It already was. Ironically, since their hostile split Corey seemed to take being a father more seriously. He wanted the kids at his new place regularly, and despite a bad start, he had been very respectful and consistent in his communication to Helen about their children. She was optimistic they would find always find a way to put their kids first. She finished her coffee and resumed her pace all the way home.
As she crossed the lights at Parkside Avenue and left High Park, she turned the corner onto her street and saw Corey’s car in the driveway. He was sitting on the front steps with a large envelope in his hands. Helen ran all the way up the driveway and stopped in front of him.
“Hey,” Corey said.
“Hey,” she replied, panting slightly.
“Where are the kids?”
“With my sister.”
Corey held out the envelope. Helen took it and peered inside. She recognized the separation papers and immediately flipped to the last page where she saw his signature.
“You signed?”
“Looks like it.”
“You agreed to everything?”
“We’re not going to argue about the kids, right?”
“We’re not going to argue about our kids,” Helen confirmed.
“Then I’m good,” he said. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you could have asked for more.”
“That’s what my lawyer said.”
“I bet. Guys like him make a livi…”
“Corey…”
“Sorry.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know why I married you?” she asked.
“I think so.”
“Really?”
“You wanted security and you knew I was good for it,” Corey replied. “I didn’t blame you for that. I still don’t.”
“Well, why did you want to marry me?” she asked.
“You were the most beautiful girl around. Everywhere you went, guys were drooling all over the place. I wanted the best and you were the best.”
“That’s nice, I guess,” Helen smiled.
Corey got up to leave.
“I’ll come by soon for the rest of my stuff.”
“Anytime.”
With his face intact this time, Corey got into his car. He started the drive to his new apartment, which was growing on him by the day.
100.
The day after the rally, Alex went to visit Ken Hornsby and found him next door with Pertia. They were sitting at the same table where Alex had first asked Ken to pick up his whistle again.
Ken told Alex of his plans. He and Pertia were going to sell their homes and move out east together, somewhere quieter and near water. So many parts of the Canadian east coast were scenic and relaxed. Halifax, Nova Scotia, was the leading contender. Numerous years ago, Pertia’s parents had docked at Halifax’s famous Pier 21. She would go there with Ken, and they would take care of each other. If her own kids were as concerned about her as they had been claiming recently, they could come out there to visit.
Alex promised that he and Diana would make the trip one day in the near future. Before he left, they shook hands and Ken patted Alex on the shoulder.
“Loyal to a fault,” Ken mused.
“Only for people that deserve it, Coach,” Alex replied.
“I can’t believe you haven’t gone yet,” Diana said later as she and Alex drove into the cemetery. She was holding a modest bouquet of flowers they had purchased on the way there.
“I don’t like cemeteries,” Alex responded. “I can grieve from home.”
“So why now?”
“Now’s different.”
“How?” she asked.
“You’re with me.”
Alex drove along the gravel path, embarrassed as he struggled to remember the location of his mother’s resting place. However, he soon recognized a tree that he remembered standing under right before her burial.
After pulling the car over and killing the engine, Alex got out and walked toward a series of gravestones. Diana followed, but kept her distance. He felt a sudden urge to find his mother’s grave and realized that he was still unsure of its exact spot. More people had been buried there since her passing and the area did not look the same. Alex walked up and down the rows of graves, and a wave of relief washed over him when he found what he was looking for.
There was a tall and wide stone slab that was among the largest and most expensive ones around.
The inscription read:
MARIA BUCCO
1958–2020
Devoted wife and extraordinary mother.
Forever brave and loving.
The inscription had been completed after the funeral and this was the first time Alex had seen it. He may once have struggled to find tears, but they were readily available now. He felt Diana press the flowers into his side and rub his shoulder. He put the flowers down at the bottom of the gravestone, near her photo, before wiping his eyes and touching the stone slab.
Alex looked at the photo of his mother. He could feel himself reliving the moment when he took that picture. It was a long time ago, but it seemed like it could have been yesterday. It was his favourite photo of her.
Holding Diana’s hand, Alex walked past his mother’s grave until he reached his father’s. Prior to his mother’s service, he hadn’t visited his father’s grave since that funeral took place shortly after the murder. Even though he had just struggled to find his mother’s resting place, he knew precisely where his father’s was in relation to hers.
Alex stopped in front of a much smaller gravestone that simply read BUCCO in smaller letters along the top. Down toward the bottom, the full name of Alex’s father appeared along with his date of birth and date of expiry. There was no photo or anything else. Diana approached and held Alex’s arm. He sighed and continued to look at the
simple description of his father.
“I remember him shrieking that night,” he said. “I could hear it outside in the backyard…and I was so ashamed. I remember thinking, ‘What kind of man shrieks like that?’ I thought he was weak and pathetic, and I wanted to be nothing like him. I still don’t. But my mother forgave him a long time ago.”
Alex looked at Diana.
“Maybe I can do that now.”
101.
Alex and Diana decided to go back to where they started. Dr. Williams recommended a colleague of hers who specialized in grief counselling. Neither Alex nor Diana had been very forthcoming during those group sessions so many years ago, and they both had suppressed so much over the years. It would be different this time.
Upon entering a large room, they wrote out nametags and took their seats in a circle of chairs that struck them as familiar. Alex and Diana were early and sat patiently while the room gradually filled up. Before long there were twenty people sitting there and a casually dressed woman entered and introduced herself as a psychologist. Alex squeezed Diana’s hand and she squeezed back.
Diana sat straight up in her chair with both feet planted on the ground, a far cry from the quiet teenage girl who sat nervously with her legs wrapped around the chair hugging herself. When the psychologist went around the room and asked everyone to state their name, Diana introduced herself in a loud, clear voice.
After they had completed their introductions, the psychologist addressed the group:
“As we go through and share our stories, remember this is a safe space. The more honest you are with yourself and each other, the more likely you will find ways to cope with your feelings.”
She added that commitment to these weekly meetings was important and there were no “miracle cures.” They were going to pick at scabs, and it would hurt. She looked around the circle.
“Would anyone like to start?”
To Alex’s surprise, Diana raised her hand.
“Diana?”
“Yes.”
“What brings you here?” the psychologist asked.
“My younger sister died,” Diana replied. “A long time ago.”
The Tournament Page 52
