Page 63 of He Has Game (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Chapter 17
Vivvie
Not even the unfortunate mattress of my makeshift bed motivates me to come out from under my now unseasonal comforter.
“I’ve never ween you this bereft,” Grace says. I turn over and look up at her through my swollen eyes because she’s used the word bereft in a sentence. She’s trying to impress me, or shake me.
“You’re a good friend,” I say. There’s a knock on the door, but I’m too upset and broken to care as Grace scurries to open it.
When Mary and Caroline walk in behind her, I scramble to sit up mainly because there’s nowhere for them all to sit with me taking up the bed.
“Look at you,” Mary says, hands on her hips and trying to look careless and intimidating. But I see the concern in her eyes. Maybe it’s guilt.
“I’m sorry. I should have called in sick,” I say. “As you can see I have a broken heart and I don’t know when I’m going to recover.” I know I’m being melodramatic, but I feel a need to overcome the imbalance in the room with all the no-nonsense stares aimed at me. Even Caro, though she looks angry and I’m not sure who she’s angry at.
Mary flicks a hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. Get up and get dressed. Caro and I can’t talk to you like this. We’re here as mediaries.”
“Caro?”
Caronods, her face softening, “Yes. Short for Caroline which is too long and unsophisticated for Boston. Let me help you.” She then proceeds to take my arm, not as gently as her words suggest and Grace assists her, removing all the covers.
Before I know it, I’m locked in my bathroom with some clothes—new ones purchased by Caro and Mary to cheer me up which was really sweet even though the kind gesture makes me want to cry. But I know I’m being ridiculous, the brand of romantic I’ve never wanted to be.
I’ve always seen myself as a rational romantic, haven’t I? It’s time I acted like one.
Finn was never mine. I stole him—no, borrowed him—for a little while, like borrowing an exciting scandalous book from the library, I knew there was a return date. And Finn’s return has now come due.
Maybe even overdue, because in all my fantasies, I never imagined the kind of bliss we’d share together. Splashing cold water on my face, I force myself to bury my misery under the warm layer of the kind acts of friendship from Grace, Mary and Caro.
When I return to the room we all sit, calm and like nothing is amiss. I even put on make up to camouflage my tear-worn eyes and disconsolate face.
“As the mediaries between you and Finn,” Mary says from her perch on the counter stool, “we’ve negotiated a deal in the terms of your fake engagement. You’ll carry on your engagement until the end of the playoffs as originally planned to avoid the complication of explaining away a sudden break up. It’s better if the relationship fades away quietly after the season ends when everyone heads their separate ways.”
“Or,” Caro jumps in, “if the relationship blossoms there will be no need for a break up.”
Mary frowns and looks at her watch. “I have to get to the office. I expect a background write-up on the opposing team by two pm for publication on the website.” She hops off her stool and leaves.
As soon as she closes the door behind her, I feel a need to confess.
Facing Caroline and Grace, I say, “I’ve fallen in love with Finn. But don’t tell Mary.”
Caro laughs and Grace rolls her eyes.
“You think she doesn’t already know that? Everyone knows that. Except maybe Finn.” Caro shakes her head. “Poor lamb. We’ll fix this. You’ll see.”
“Don’t go giving her false hope,” Grace says. “There’s no scheme you can concoct to trick Finn into a real relationship.”
“That’s true. But I know my son. And I believe all he needs is time and encouragement.”
I shrug and swipe my stupid tears, feeling like the dumbest girl on earth, knowing I messed up.
“I don’t know if you’re right Caro, but I have time and I’m game to try anything.” She pats my hand.
“Good. You’ll see.”
“In the meantime,” Grace says, “we get rink-side seats for the rest of the playoffs.”
“There’s that.”
