Page 113 of Fall For Me
It’s the first time she’s ever called me that, and something about it warms my heart.
“Love you, too,” I call back right as the doors close.
Before we step out into the cold air, I take off my jacket, draping it over Jade and Granny, then wheel them through the lot.
“You’ve been really quiet. You tired?” I ask, parking her beside my car.
When she doesn’t answer, I stop and peer over at her. “Granny?”
“Hmm? Oh. Yeah,” she says a little sluggish. “It’s just past my bedtime.”
Picking Jade up, I place her in the backseat, buckle her in, then help Granny into the car before folding up her wheelchair and placing it in my trunk.
The smooth palm of Granny’s hand settles over mine as I set out to close the distance between the arena and Aiden’s house.
“Remember what I said about coincidences?” Granny asks.
“There are none. Yeah, I remember.”
“That’s right,” she says softly. “Everythin’ happens for a reason. We came here for a reason, and I think part of that reason was you. Yer a good girl, Hannah. Good for my Jade.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’ve had an emotional evening, and I don’t know how much more I can take.
“You should’ve seen her watchin’ ya coach. Said she wants to be just like ya. Made me glad to know she has ya to look up to.”
“Granny. You’re gonna make me cry,” I say, feeling the sting creep up my nose. I glance over at her. “Are you sick? You’re never this nice.”
“Just wanted ya to know is all. Yer a strong woman. Take the job if ya want it, Hun. The way yer face lights up, I know ya love it.”
“We’ll see,” I tell her.
“Don’t be hardheaded just to prove a point.”
I shake my head in disgust. “He set me up, Granny.”
“Yer dad was just tryin’ to teach you a lesson . . . hope it worked.”
I turn my head and gape at her.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m just sayin’; he knew ya wanted to coach and that ya wouldn’t try if he didn’t force ya. Sometimes . . . we need a little push in the right direction . . .” she says, her words slurring together in exhaustion.
As we merge onto the highway, I replay the game in my head. Everything came to me so naturally. I knew what I was doing out there. Hell, half the time I didn’t think, I reacted. Reading the ice . . . adjusting lines . . . changing up plays on the fly . . . Every single time we adapted, and it worked out, gave me a better high than anyadrenaline rush I’ve ever chased. And when the boys executed that setup I called and Petrov buried the puck into the back of the net . . . God, nothing’s ever felt like that before.
“Those gears a turnin’?” she asks as if she doesn’t already know the answer.
“Yes, smarty pants, my gears are turning . . . the hangup is all eyes being on me when I screw up. It’ll happen. It’s inevitable. I’ve seen dad call some terrible plays. Just like he did during preseason. The difference is when he screws up, he’s just a coach having a bad night. When I screw up, it’ll be because I’m a woman and don’t belong in men’s hockey.”
“Fuck ‘em . . .” she rasps. “No matter whatcha do, there’s always gonna be somebody out there . . . waitin’ for ya to fail. Can’t live yer life like that . . . Do whatever ya wanna do and fuck what everybody else says or thinks. If ya try and fail . . . try again.”
I laugh. Never in my life have I met a woman like her.
Something about what she says clicks. I can’t control everyone else. Like Dad said, there’s always gonna be someone that has something to say . . . somebody who thinks they can do it better. Why am I making what they think and say, before they even say it, more important than how I feel? That’s bullshit. I’m not gonna let anyone else control me or my happiness. And coaching really does make me happy.
“You know what? You’re right. Fuck 'em. I’m gonna do the damn thang.”
“That’s my girl. I love ya . . .”
“I love you, too. And thank you.” Giving her hand a light squeeze, I peer over at her as her head droops down. “Granny, are you okay?”
