by Sara Hubbard
I tip my head down and look at her from underneath my eyebrows.
“3701.”
“Thanks.” Normally, I’m pretty nice to fans, but this is not the time to go fan girl on me—while I’m here waiting to see my brother in the hospital. Man, some people just don’t think.
When I get on the elevator, I get the same reaction from the two guys on my left. “Great game last night,” one says.
“Would have been even greater if you stayed in Canada and played for one of our teams,” says the other.
Sigh. Like I don’t hear that constantly when I cross the border to play games here in Canada. It’s getting old. The funny thing is that these guys know me and probably know how easily I lose my cool, but they still stand here, baiting me. Keep it up, asshole. Go ahead. I dare you. But he doesn’t, he keeps his mouth shut. I guess he’s not as stupid as he looks.
I get off on the third floor and approach the nurse’s desk. They’re a little more professional here and if they recognize me, they don’t let on. I ask the nurse behind the desk a few questions about what happened to my brother, surprised to hear how he got hurt. A fucking stabbing? Really? What the hell has he been doing while I've been gone? If only I were here, I could have helped him, taken the blade for him if I had to. He’s my kid brother and I’m in a different country, focused on my career. I call him maybe once or twice a month.
I beeline for my brother’s room and when I reach it I knock lightly on his door. When there is no answer, I quietly push the door open and find him sleeping. Part of me breaks in half when I see him hooked up to monitors and an IV pole. It reminds me of visiting my mother in hospital and those memories choke me up.
I swallow my feelings down and steel myself. There’s a chair to his right and I take a seat there. Then I just watch him, taking stock of the cuts and bruises on his face and the bandage on his side. I don’t even know how bad he’s hurt, only that he seems to be okay now. He’s not in the ICU, so that’s a good thing. I stare at him, willing him to wake, to be all right, to bust my balls or something, anything to make me stop thinking the absolute worst. Open your eyes, I will him. Just let me see that you’re okay.
When I can’t stand it anymore, I clear my throat. When that doesn’t work, I shuffle around the room. And when that doesn’t work, I poke him in the cheek.
His eyes flutter open and he groans before letting out a yawn. “Let me sleep,” he whines, tossing a pillow over his head.
I let out a breath I’ve been holding. “Hey, asshole,” I say calmly.
He turns his head and peeks out at me from under his pillow. A stupid grin claims his face. “What are you doing here?” he asks.
“You think I’m going to let you spend time in here without me?”
“I told Richard not to tell you.”
“Yeah, well. Richard and I aren’t on good terms right now.”
“It wasn’t his fault. He said you’d be pissed and I told him I would take the heat. Don’t be mad at him. I swear it was me that told him not to tell you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fucking stubborn as ever.” He shifts, grimacing, while holding his side. “Come give me a kiss, big brother.”
I chuckle and oblige him, giving him a few weak slaps across his face as I pull away. “What the hell? I just talked to a nurse outside and she said you were in a knife fight? Seriously?”
“A nurse? Which nurse?”
“What the fuck does it matter? Quit being weird.”
He clears his throat and for a moment, I wonder what he's keeping from me. I'm about to ask until he keeps talking. “You make the fight sound so much more glamorous than it actually was. I put the boots to this guy and he didn’t like losing, so he pulled a blade.”
“You were lucky he didn’t kill you.”
Manny shrugs. “I guess. Wasn’t really thinking about that at the time.”
“I can only guess what you were thinking about,” I say, earning a mischievous smile from my brother. Little bastard. One of the big differences between us: He’s a player and might always be. I’ve only ever loved one girl. Probably always will.
“Who was it? Did you know him?”
He averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck.
“You want me to go around asking questions?”
“The fuck if I know. Look, I didn’t recognize him, okay? And if you give a shit about me at all you’ll let it go.”
I can’t believe he’s saying this to me. Letting go of things is not exactly a skill I excel in.
“I’m serious. Promise me?”
“The cops looking for him?”
“Sure. They came around earlier asking questions.” He eyes me. “Promise me, Ethan. You have too much to lose, okay?”
Do I? I know this is true, but then why the hell do I feel so empty lately? “Whatever you say.”
I run my hands through my hair and lean back in my seat, studying my brother. On the surface, he looks awful. Underneath? I feel like he might be even worse. Those blue eyes are sadder than I’ve ever seen them, and I’ve seen them at their worst. A young boy curled up to a coffin in a meadow, begging for his mother not to be lowered into the ground. Yeah, he’s seen better days. Much better. He’s smiling on the surface, but his easy grin looks insincere.
He shifts in bed, putting his hand over the blood-tinged patch of gauze on his side. His IV drips into his arm and the monitor beeps to the sound of his heart. “So you’re okay?” I say quietly.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
I nod, playing with my knuckles, lightly cracking them as I stumble through this conversation. “Everything else okay?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to you in a while.”
“Whose fault is that?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Come on, man. This job isn’t easy, even though it looks like it. I’m just doing my best.”
“I know. I'm only messing with you, anyway.”
“Are you losing money being here? Do you need some help?”
“Stop trying to give me money all the time. I’m fine. I’m between jobs right now.”
I curse under my breath. I hate that he won’t take my money. I’ve got more than I can spend and it would make me real happy to give him some, but I know he’s proud. Hell, I wouldn’t take money from him if our roles were reversed.
“Did you get fired?” I ask, already knowing the answer before he confirms it.
“It was stupid. Four weeks on the rig, working every day. It was nice to have the month off after, but man...brutal.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I got no sleep, was sore all over, and the food sucked. My supervisor ragged on me one day and I told him to go fuck himself. He got in my face and I put my fist in his.”
“Jesus, Manny. How many jobs have you gone through since you turned sixteen?”
“We can’t all play hockey for a living, brother.”
I stand and pace, my hands interlaced behind my neck.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll get another job.”
“What about rent? You got money put away?”
“Yep...I’m fine for now.”
His eyes shift to the left and I know I’m going to regret taking my questioning a step farther. “Start talking, little brother.”
He looks to the sky and after a moment, he says, “I moved back in with Dad.”
“What the hell?” I curl my fists and struggle to keep my composure. “What are you thinking? Why would you spend any more time with that man than you have to?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know. I barely see him. I come and go as I please. He does his thing and I do mine.”
“Nah, that’s not happening. You can come to Philly and live with me.”
Manny laughs. “I don’t need you to rescue me anymore. I can take care of myself.”
“Doing a bang up job, brother.”
“Hey, fuck you. You don’t get to take off and show up here after three years
and start barking out orders. I’m not moving to Philly.”
“You’re coming,” I say, firm. If I have to drag his ass on the plane with me, he’s coming. He just doesn’t realize it yet. Like hell am I going to leave him here with Dad. Sure, he’s bigger than Dad now, but Dad wasn’t simply violent after Mom died, he was emotionally abusive, too. He could make Mother Teresa feel like a demon.
“What would I do in Philly, huh? Spend the rest of my life as Ethan Michael's brother? Live in your shadow? I’m proud of you and all that, but I’m not about to live like that.”
“’Cause staying here is so much more appealing.”
“I’m done with this conversation. Can we talk about something else?”
“Nope. We’re going to keep talking about moving until you say you’re coming.”
“Fuck that,” He looks at me, stares me down. Then he finds a topic change to shut me up. I hate that he knows me as well as he does. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s talk about Annie. You seen her yet?”
I run my hands down my face, sighing. “I’m not talking about Annie. That’s none of your business.”
“Okay, sure. We don’t need to talk about her. I just wanted to see how you guys were, ’cause she’ll be back soon.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She went home to get some of my stuff.”
I’m speechless. Why is Annie here? And why is she bringing him his stuff? “You called Annie?” Fucking perfect. Just perfect. I throw my hands up in the air. “Annie knows you’re here and I didn’t?”
“Don’t go getting all Hulk on me. She’s my nurse.”
Huh. That’s what the little dick meant when he asked which nurse I talked to. “Your nurse? Since when?”
“Since I got here.”
“No, I mean, when did she start working here?”
“I don’t know. Ask her yourself.”
“What did she say?”
“About what?”
“About anything?” I blurt out, frustrated.
“You're making my head hurt. Let’s talk about something nice.”
“You brought her up.”
He lets out groan and runs his hands across his face. “I know, and I shouldn't have.”
Nope. He shouldn't have. Trying to control the conversation backfired.
“Besides, the last time I mentioned her name to you, you told me you hated her.”
“I pretty much do.”
Manny smirks at me. “It seems like it.”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what? Like you’re full of shit?” Manny asks.
“Fine. Talk about something else.”
“Tell me about the goal you scored last night,” Manny says. “You were magic.”
“Magic,” I say with a scoff. I can't think about last night right now. All I can think about is her. What I will say to her when I finally see her. How hard it will be for me to hold back. To not tell her she wrecked me and I hope she ends up as miserable as she’s made me.
“There was nothing magic about last night,” I say, irritated.
“Deny it all you want. But you were.”
“I think you’ve been talking to my agent too much. We should probably fix that.”
“Only way I can get a hold of you lately, bro.”
I avert my eyes, feeling ashamed. He’s right and I know it. My brother was lying in a hospital bed while I lived my life, oblivious. And I could have stayed that way for weeks if I continued the way I have been, focusing on nothing but hockey. Blocking out the world. This was what I wanted, didn’t I? My end goal? Besides Annie, hockey is the only thing that's given me peace in my life. Funny how miserable I've been lately, doing something I've always loved.
“That’s going to change,” I say. “Don’t call Richard anymore. Just call me. Okay?”
“Whatever you say.”
“I got another phone, too. I broke my other one.” I might not have chucked it at Richard’s car, but I did smash it against my wall when I got home last night. “Give me your phone and I’ll punch it in.”
“You changed your number?”
I shrug. Couldn’t wait forever for Annie to reach out. It’s only hit me recently that I have to let her go. Funny how I just decided on that and here I am, about to see her again. Now changing my number seems like a mistake.
“My phone's dead,” Manny says.
“So plug it in.”
“Um...I will...when my charger gets here. It's one of the things Annie went to get for me.”
There’s that name again. Why does he keep saying it? Every time I hear it I swear my heart contracts and I get sharp pains in my side, like she’s stabbing me over and over with her cold words.
'We never would have worked out,' was the last thing she said to me before we hung up the phone that last time.
I stand and pace, biting at my already bitten-off nails. When I settle against the radiator and I’m a little calmer, the door to the room squeaks open.
And I’m sixteen again, looking at the girl I’ve know my whole life and reliving that pivotal moment when I first realized I loved this freckled-faced girl with big brown eyes and a smile big enough to light my darkest days.
I try to get good and mad, to keep my walls up to block out the effect she's always had on me. But there's no use. One blink, one timid smile, and the last three years melt away.
5
ANNIE
I knock lightly, trying my best not to make too much noise in case Manny is sleeping. It’s almost ten o’clock at night and he really needs to get his rest. After waiting and hearing no reply, I push and tiptoe through the cracked-open door.
Ethan.
He is across the room, leaned against the radiator with his arms across his chest. Our eyes meet. I can’t put into words the way my body responds. It’s like a lifetime of emotions pass through my body: love, adoration, anger, frustration, longing, and pain. I am so overwhelmed right now, I don’t know what to do with myself, so I merely stop in place and stare.
Ethan rubs his hands up and down his jeans before standing tall. He was always tall and muscular, but somehow he seems bigger now, even from across the room. I try to read him, but his expression is blank. I once knew him so well, but in this moment, I feel like we’re strangers.
Three years is a long time.
When I realize we’re staring at each other I shake it off and fumble through my bags, focusing on things that are safe.
Manny.
His charger.
Manny sits up in his bed, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of us.
I hold his charger out and ask for his phone, knowing full well my hands are trembling and my voice is shaky.
“I got it,” Manny says, taking my hand to steady me. I let go of the charger and take a step back.
“I...got you some clothes. I don’t think they’re clean. I don’t think anything in your room was clean, but I can take them home and wash them for you, bring them back tomorrow.”
“Annie, just leave the clothes. I’ll be here awhile and I know you like looking at my ass in this gown.”
“Stop,” I say, feeling embarrassed. Ethan saunters closer until he’s in reach of his brother. He reaches out and smacks Manny lightly on the side of his head.
“He just lost an organ.” I say.
“So I heard.” He glares at his brother before setting his piercing eyes on me. “You got a minute?” He nods to the door.
“Reunions are so beautiful,” Manny says, smirking.
I frown at him as Ethan makes his way to the door, holding it open for me to pass through first. When we’re outside things become even more awkward. How is that possible? I tuck my hands in the pockets of my hooded sweater, perspiring from the heat in my cheeks and my body. Hurry up and speak. My stomach is rolling, worrying about what he wants to say to me. It could be anything. I just hope it's about Manny, because I don't want to rehash our relationship and breakup here at work.
His blue eyes hold mine, and I swear they puncture my soul. He’s always been intense, but before, he always looked at me like he loved me, with a hint of a smile on his lips. Now he just looks like he wants to smash me into the boards of a hockey rink.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I whisper, turning my head away.
“Like what?”
I shrug, unable to put it into words. “Please don’t do this here,” I say quietly.
“I’m not going to do anything. Why do you think I’m going to do something?”
“Because...I don’t know.” I huff a breath out. “You’ve never cared about causing a scene.”
“Right. And you know me so well.”
“No. I don’t pretend to know you at all anymore.” My voice is quiet, so much so I’m not sure he can hear me.
“Look, Annie, all I care about right now is my brother.”
“Well if that’s true then I’m glad, because he needs you.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
I sigh and pray this is over soon. I can’t handle him treating me like this. He was everything to me once, and his acid-filled tone and flaring hate make me feel smaller than small.
“Ethan, just say what you need to say. It’s been a really long day and I just want to go home and get in bed.”
“Thanks for getting Manny’s things. I’m glad you were here for him.”
I tip my head to the side. He’s gone and surprised me. I thought he was about to spout hate, tell me how horrible I am for the way I ended things, but no. He thanks me. What do I do with that? Is he messing with me? Forcing me to let my guard down so he can attack when I’m vulnerable? No. Don’t think like that. He would never hurt me purposely, no matter what happened between us. We were best friends. We loved each other. He’d never forget that and I neither will I.
“You’re...you’re welcome.”
Ethan grits his teeth, his jaw flexing. Then without warning, he grabs a hold of my shirt and yanks me toward him. He wraps his arms tightly around my shoulders and squeezes me so tight it hurts to breathe. It’s as if he has a lifetime’s worth of hugs saved for me.
