Chapter 39: Forever Wild: Chapter 38

“How is he?” Tyler asks, hugging me against him.

I breathe him in. The guy who has always been there for me, picking me up and reminding me everything is going to be okay. Except now he looks as uncertain as I feel.

Tears leak down my face and I swipe them away angrily as I pull back. “All we know is that he had a stroke and he’s stable. The last update was over two hours ago.”

“How’s Jack handling it?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. The last I saw him he was practically yelling at someone on the phone after they tried to put him on hold. He’s hurting so badly but he hasn’t stopped trying to fix it all since he found out. Phone calls, talking with his dad’s medical team here, more phone calls. It’s been almost four hours. He hasn’t eaten or drank anything. He’s existing only by his need to make everything okay .

“He’s on the phone,” I say. “I think he’s making some calls to see if this is the best place for him.”

A sob rips free without my permission and I hug Tyler again. “Thank you for being here.”

“Always,” he says. “No matter what.” He rubs my back until the tears stop. I don’t want Jack to see me upset. The last thing he needs is another person to worry about.

“Do you want to sit?” I ask and motion to the ugly, wooden and floral upholstered chairs.

Tyler sits with me in the waiting room. I wring my hands together and tap my foot, willing the seconds to pass and for the doctor to come out with good news. More of the team arrives. Coach Miller, Leo and Scarlett, Declan and Jade, Ash and Bridget, Maverick, Nick and Aidan. After that I lose track, but when Jack reappears in the waiting room, he comes up short, clearly surprised by the number of people here for him.

“Hey. What’s going on?” he asks.

Coach Miller approaches him first. “I’m sorry about your dad. Any news?”

He scans the crowd of his teammates and friends again before he speaks. “He had a blood clot, which caused the stroke. He’s awake and they’re giving him medication. His speech and memory were both impacted. The doctor says it could be temporary, but some patients don’t fully recover. The next few weeks are important. They’re going to keep him here for a while and we’ll have a rehabilitation plan once we know more.”

The lump in my throat grows until I’m not sure I can speak or breathe. I let his teammates and Coach console him. I watch from a distance as they hug him and offer words of sympathy and hope .

Jack’s mask is in place, but I know as soon as he stops trying to be everything for everyone else, he’s going to need to deal with this.

And I don’t just mean the stroke. He and his dad have a rocky relationship. Jack’s never mentioned it, but I can feel the tension there. Maybe it’s because of his dad’s drinking, but I get the sense that it goes way beyond that.

As everyone starts to leave, they come by and hug me too, each one telling me to call or text if we need anything. I guess they know it’s highly unlikely that Jack will.

When they’re gone, I go to him. I wrap myself around his middle and breathe him in. I know I’m supposed to be comforting him, but there’s something reassuring about being in his arms.

“I’m sorry.” It isn’t the first or even the second time I’ve said it, but I look up at him and will the words to convey just how deeply I feel them. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah.” His hand cups the back of my head. “You’re doing it by being here.”

“Of course. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

He drops his mouth to mine and kisses me gently. “Thank you for offering, but there won’t be a lot to do and I know you need to get back to Briar Lake.”

“I can take time off. It’s no big deal.”

“No. Don’t do that. There’s nothing to do here but wait. Take my car. I’ll get a ride home from one of the guys.”

I bite at the corner of my lip as I consider what to do. Is he pulling his usual, I don’t need anyone’s help bullshit or is he just being pragmatic?

“I don’t want to go,” I say. “Even if there’s nothing to do. Heather will understand and honestly if she doesn’t…” I shrug .

“Ev.” His voice breaks on my name.

“I’m not going anywhere except maybe to get food and clothes. Do you want me to bring you anything back?”

He looks like he wants to argue, but then he hugs me back to his chest. “You’re stubborn and incredible.”

“And yours,” I remind him.

When he pulls back, he runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll come with you.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods. “I can’t get in to see him for another hour anyway.”

“Okay.”

We swing by his place to eat, shower, and finally change out of our travel clothes. Vacation feels like a lifetime ago. He grabs clothes, toiletries, and his laptop so he can stay at the hospital while his dad recovers.

On the ride back, he takes my hand but stays quiet while he drives. He’s able to go back and see his dad for a few minutes, but when he returns, he looks more upset than before. Maybe the seriousness of the situation is sinking in.

“How is he?” I ask.

“The doctors say he’s doing well, all things considered, but the stroke messed up his speech so communicating with him is difficult.” He buries his head in his hands and mutters, “Fuck.”

I drape an arm around his shoulders and rub soothing circles, wishing I could do so much more. I can’t seem to find the words. Am I supposed to be hopeful and spew positivity or offer my sympathy? Neither feels right so I stay quiet and hope my presence is as comforting to him as his is to me.

“I’m so mad at him.” He sits up. His eyes are red but I haven’t seen him cry. “I need him to be okay so I can tell him how mad I am. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I mean he’s been a drunk most my life. That kind of lifestyle doesn’t lead to a long, healthy life.”

My heart squeezes. Whether he says it or not, I know he feels responsible for his dad.

“You love him, and he loves you.”

“Do you know he has never watched me play professional hockey?”

My brows pinch together.

Jack nods even though I haven’t asked a question. “Sure, he catches the games on TV, but never in person. Not once. The last game he attended I was sixteen.”

“What happened?”

Jack’s quiet for a moment. The only noise is the hum of the overhead lights and the beeping of machines and computers in the hospital.

“He got hurt when he was playing in the minor league, ended his career before it really started. He struggled to find work after that, started drinking more frequently. For years it was just the new normal. Dad was laid off and drinking, and him and Mom fought constantly. Then one day I guess she just got tired of it. After she left, his drinking got worse. I’m not making excuses for him, but it was a crappy situation.”

“How old were you when she left?” I ask. He’s never mentioned his mom. To be honest, I assumed she died or something.

“Twelve.” His throat works.

“Jack…” My voice trails off.

“She had every right to leave him. He wasn’t easy to live with, but she just up and left without a word, washed her hands of us.” He shakes his head. “I still don’t understand how she could do that.

”

“So you took care of him?” I already know the answer but ask the question anyway.

“I mean I wasn’t really much of a caretaker, but I made sure we had what we needed. Luckily, he’d managed to save enough before things got bad that money wasn’t an issue. It was tight, but we had a house and food.”

My throat and the back of my eyes burn with the need to cry, but I don’t because it won’t change anything and I know he doesn’t want my tears.

“My junior high school coach, John, you met him, he looked in on us too. He and dad were old friends and he’s one of the few people who knew the whole story. My dad was once promised to be the next Gretzky, and now the only thing people will remember is he was the town drunk.”

“What happened to your mom? Have you heard from her in all these years?”

He nods his head. “She tried to get in touch with me about a year after she left. She was living in Florida, and wanted me to come stay with her, but I couldn’t leave him. And also, fuck her, you know? She left me too.”

“I know it doesn’t make up for what you’ve been through, but your dad loves you. He might not be at your games, but he’s so proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Jack snorts a disbelieving sound. “Has a funny way of showing it.”

I’m ready to tell him how wrong he is, but the doctor steps out into the waiting room and Jack stands, eager for the update.