Page 61 of He Has Game (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Because my mother is a lot of things, including a ruthless schemer, but this time…
This time, maybe she did good. But I still don’t trust her motives. And Vivvie should know better than to trust her too. Maybe she’s not part of this, maybe she’s an innocent bystander.
* * *
The press is letinto the locker room today. The team is foregoing the formal press conference, but I’m hoping that’s not going to be the protocol for the duration of the playoffs. Mary is in charge of that and she’s very strategic with her decisions.
* * *
After I getout of the craziness of the locker room, keeping my responses true to Mary’s instructions, I see Vivvie in the cement corridor outside the door. She’s alone, thank the lord. I asked her to wait with me without her entourage. I need to get off this edge I’m on with our relationship, teetering on making it real, but certain if I do I’ll be making a big mistake because it’s so contrary to who I am.
“Congratulations on the win,” she says as I give her a light kiss on the cheek. It’s automatic and comfortable, but a far cry from my usual response to seeing her. We walk to the garage and get in my car, but I don’t start it because we’re not going anywhere.
“Have you seen the reports about Sherry?” I ask. She goes pink faster than I’ve ever seen outside of a bedroom.
“Yes.” She smiles. “Couldn’t have happened to a more appropriate person. Is everything okay with the team? Are they worried about the threat of a law suit?”
“Yes and no. Now ask me if everything is okay with me.” I manage to keep my voice even.
“I don’t understand?”
“My mother is a scheming crazy—”
“She helped you—whatever she did, and I admit it may have been on the dishonest side—she did to protect you, Finn, because she loves you.” She reaches out to touch my hand, but I move it before she does.
“Nice speech. But you know better than to trust her. I’ve told you—”
“I know it’s hard for you to imagine that she’s changed, matured—”
“I don’t care if she has. She’s lost her chance. And why are you defending her?”
“I—”
“What was your role in the scheme to set up Sherry?”
She’s silent for a beat, watching me. When she shifts in her seat, my chest tightens, my muscles clench as if I’m waiting for a blow to hit.”
‘I encouraged her,” she says.
“You knew about it all? About the actor hired to set the so-calledbeef-cake trap? About sending her husband to the room to find her at the exact right moment and the photos—”
“Yes, Finn. I knew about it all. And none of it would have mattered if Sherry hadn’t been a cheating wife to begin with. Why are you so upset about this? I don’t understand—"
I shake my head. Good fucking question. I know there’s an answer, but when she asks with such hurt and passion, I don’t know.
“You’re better than this,” I say. It sounds lame. “Better than her.”
She says nothing. She’s not crying, but her face is sad.
“I’m going now,” she mumbles as she opens the door.
I grab her arm and stop her, but I have no idea why or what to say to her, only that her leaving causes a ripping sensation in my soul, as if we have a real bond, as if the pretense took root beyond the physical attraction. But that’s impossible
She stares at me as if frozen mid-motion in the act of leaving, waiting for me to speak. I let her go. The door clicks closed calmly, with Vivvie’s usual dignified reserve.
This is the kind of drama I need to avoid, energy wasted on useless emotions. Shaking it off, I need to get out of here and get past this, so I start the car and drive.
I’m more disappointed than I ought to be. Why should I care now? Our engagement was a fake and now there’s no need for it. I should be happy that we can end it sooner than later. Thrilled that all my distractions will go away.
