A/N: After two weeks, here it finally is: chapter 11.
I know I always have an excuse, but I assure you this time it was a good one. Due to holiday prep and volunteers coming, etc. (I'm activity director for an assisted living facility) I had next to no time to edit, and this is a LOOOONG chapter, just so you know. And I'll say this: in my haste to finally get it up, I haven't done any kind of "second proof", so if you see typos, just ignore them. I'll fix them later.
In this chapter, the "honeymoon" phase of Adam and Lacey's relationship gives way to some rising concerns and tension as Adam puts himself through a lot of pain and exhaustion in hopes of being noticed by the right people while playing college hockey.
And thus ushers in a NEW ERA.
/*/*/
"I would tell you that you're strong, but you already know that. I would tell you that you'll get through this, but you already know that, too. So I'll tell you only this: I am here for you, and I will cheer for you every step of the way." – J. Lynn
"Yeah, so like about two tablespoons of cream and a teaspoon of sugar. A teaspoon, not a tablespoon."
Adam wandered around his dorm room cradling the phone between his neck and shoulder as he dabbed at his eyes with Kleenex.
"This is really sweet of you, Babe. I'll tell her it came directly from you." His mom sounded as though she was concentrating, and he could practically hear the scribble of her pen as she jotted down notes about how Lacey liked her coffee so she could prepare it for her when she came over in a little while for her and Adam's first internet chat. "You're a romantic. I always hoped you might take something after me, and it looks like we found what it is, huh? Hey, are you crying?"
"No," Adam answered quickly, placing his hand over the mouthpiece to sniffle. "Just a cold coming on I think."
Silence on the other end of the phone. "Are you homesick?"
"No, Mom, I'm okay. I promise. I gotta go, okay? Thanks again for doing this for her."
"Call back if you need to talk. Swear?"
"Swear," Adam smiled. "Bye."
He walked over to set the cordless phone in its cradle, collapsing onto his bed and letting the tears fall freely. It wasn't that he was homesick; it was that he was hurting and exhausted.
Hockey practice was currently being held five times a week in order to condition the players for the upcoming season, and usually ran for at least two hours. Adam had let go of training on his own because of not having the time for it anymore, plus realizing that he was getting more than enough endurance work during practice. The coach was tough, even tougher than Orion, and he was playing with people he had no rapport with yet. Several of them were better than he was hand over fist, and he wasn't used to that, either. How could he do this? It would be hard under the best of circumstances, but his RA and the permanent damage that had been done to his shoulder by Shipley's hockey stick were factors that were making it unbearable.
For a few months, he'd thought his homeopathic doctor's approach was working. He'd been faithful with his supplements and the dietary restrictions that continued to grow stricter by the month. Adam had even become settled in the idea that the healthier lifestyle was all he needed to become, and stay, well. He initially entered practices for his freshman hockey season filled with his usual confidence. But in short order, he learned that a few vitamins, avoiding gluten, and winging on swagger weren't enough to fend off the terrible fatigue and pain he began to experience almost right away. He had bitten off more than he could chew, and there was no way this wouldn't end in his disgrace.
"Hey, Creighton," he'd heard one of the guys hiss to the other in the locker room just yesterday. "Scored us something good. Here ya go."
And just like that, steroids were passed right under Adam's nose. Welcome to college athletics.
In that weak moment, it had been all Adam could do not to go up to the supplying guy and ask, "Where'd you get those? How much for them?" But he'd already been there with that. The Percocets had nearly gotten him in trouble last year, and Adam had resolved to play it straight from here on out. If for no other reason, he wanted to prove to himself that he could do this on his own, without the methods everybody else used to keep themselves on their toes.
But damn was it so, so hard.
Even so, he wiped his eyes one final time and shuffled over to his computer, turning it on and waiting for the connection to be made.
Stupid tears. Thank God Lacey couldn't see him through a computer screen, or hear his voice. Last time they talked on the phone, the tears had begun to fall again the moment he heard her pick up. He didn't think he could possibly miss her more than he had the past couple weeks. Halloween weekend, when she was supposed to come visit, seemed so far away, and part of Adam thought that if he could just pack up for the weekend and show up at her doorstep, he'd be able to come back to school a stronger man. But he knew it just didn't work that way.
"Son, you can do whatever you want with phone calls, and…whatever the heck that AOL thing is…but do you know what really hits the heart of a woman? Letters." Grandpa Greg, who lived in Albany, lectured him when he'd taken the train down to meet for dinner one Sunday night when Adam actually had a break. "Write to her at least once a week and see what she mentions first the next time you see her: the calls, the internet, or the handwritten sentiments. You'll see exactly what I mean."
Anyone else would have blown off the things said to them by a grandparent who came of age during the second world war, but Adam had always taken Grandpa Greg seriously. Next to his dad, his grandfather had taught him everything he knew about being a man. Sure, maybe some of his etiquette was a little "old world," but there was something about his counsel that Adam cherished and usually heeded.
He would love to have said the same thing about his dad's dad, Grandpa Kent, but the little Adam ever saw of him, he was too busy lounging out on his houseboat puffing on stogies to even acknowledge his grandson was standing right in front of him. But Grandpa Greg had been part of his life for as long as he could remember. He and Grandma Molly had moved into the guest apartment in his parents' house after Grandma Molly had gotten sick, and he'd stayed on awhile after she died, not keen to return to his own home right away without his bride of over fifty years. The time he'd stayed in Minneapolis had been time enough for him and Adam to form an unbreakable bond, and Adam considered his grandpa's proximity yet another advantage of attending NYU. It was just a shame it didn't look possible to travel up to see him more often.
After a little while, the sound effect of a door opening shook Adam from his reverie, and he sat up straighter, smiling.
BanksAL99: Hey, You. :)
CatsCradleGurl_1980: Hey! How r u?
BanksAL99: Picking up on some chat speak, I c
Adam would have much preferred actual words, but he wouldn't make Lacey feel bad by telling her that. She was probably proud she had learned some internet lingo.
CatsCradleGurl_1980 :) Question tho. What's lol mean?
BanksAL99: Laughing Out Loud ;)
CatsCradleGurl_1980: Ooo ur mom just brought me coffee! She said it was from u. Ur so sweet!
After all the pleasantries were over and the two of them settled into their new conversation medium, Adam and Lacey chatted into the night, fingers flying across keyboards, releasing as many words as could be typed. When he noticed the clock on the bottom right hand corner of his computer screen read 10:56, Adam knew it had probably been a mistake–he had practice at six in the morning–but it had been well worth it. It sounded as though Lacey was keeping busy with schoolwork, hanging out with Kristy, and chauffeuring the twins to and from middle school. He suddenly missed all of them, including Halen, with all her drama queen ways.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: And u really r ok?
BanksAL99: Yeah. I promise. This is a nice campus, I can't wait to show you around when you come.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: Why don't u just say "u" instead of typing all that out?
Adam laughed aloud, and even considered throwing in an "lol" just to humor her.
BanksAL99: Because I like real words.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: O jeez! Ok u have fun w/ that then. I gtg, ur mom might want 2 go 2 bed.
BanksAL99: Hey, wait.
He paused, having no idea what more he wanted to say other than that he wasn't ready yet to sign off into the real world again. But there was no use prolonging the inevitable, and Adam knew it was time to say goodnight, like it or not.
BanksAL99: I love you.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: I c the moon and the moon sees me :)
Despite his tiredness and depression, a hint of a smile touched Adam's lips as he rolled his eyes fondly, typing the next line.
BanksAL99: The moon sees somebody I want to see.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: So God bless the moon and God bless me.
BanksAL99: And God bless that somebody I want to see.
It had become their inside joke, the nursery rhyme they realized once that they'd both been taught in kindergarten at their respective elementary schools. Recently, Lacey had turned it into their way of saying goodnight over the phone across the seventeen hours' worth of distance. And right now, he didn't care if even Travis saw it.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: Love u 2. Just 3 more weeks til Halloween wknd!
Three more weeks might as well be a whole other semester. Why was he here, again?
Okay, enough with the whining.
After his goodbyes with Lacey, Adam stood up and went to wash his face in the bathroom sink, glad for the millionth time he didn't have a roommate to see him crying like the baby he was right now. He was going to do what he knew he had to do: go to bed, then get up tomorrow and do it again. Rinse, repeat. He would get used to the rigorous practices, hectic schedule, and lack of proper sleep. All college kids did.
Every one of the upperclassmen guys on the team has had to do the same thing for a lot longer than you have.
Adam's dream wasn't going to be an easy one to reach. He'd always known that, but now was when the rubber would meet the road.
After drying his face off, Adam went over to his nightstand drawer and pulled out a little slip of paper, yellowed from the buckets of sweat he'd emitted during the Ducks' playoffs back in the Spring:
"You've got to love what you're doing. If you love it, you can overcome any handicap, or the soreness, or all the aches and pains and continue to play for a long, long time."
- Gordie Howe
Grabbing tape from his desk drawer, he came back to fasten the quote Lacey had scrawled onto the paper to his bathroom mirror. It was going to be there, reminding him every morning exactly what he had to do.
He had to give it everything he had if he was going to make it.
/*/*/
Fall semester for Lacey, on the other hand, went so much better than she ever thought it would.
The classes weren't hard, she had cool professors, a car she could drive whenever she wanted, and a boyfriend she got to talk to at least twice a week and from whom she received a letter weekly as well.
"Now that's a true romantic," Kristy gushed as Lacey held the letter up just so her friend could see Adam's small, slanted neat-as-a-pin script. "I'd give anything if Les would write me a real letter just once!"
"Well Les doesn't need to write you a letter," Lacey chuckled. "You guys both live here."
Even though Kristy was taking a gap year and wasn't attending school, she was earning money playing piano for both the community choir near her home and, of course, her dad's church. But whenever a moment could be spared, she could usually be found at Lacey's house, or Lacey at hers. Lacey had felt nervous originally about allowing Kristy into her very non-religious home, but Kristy genuinely seemed to want to meet her family, so she finally acquiesced.
"Hey! You're Pastor Pete's daughter, aren't you?" Ariel had immediately recognized Kristy for more than just the friend of Lacey's they had sat with during the Ducks' playoffs.
"I am! You go to Hope Church?" Kristy beamed.
"Yeah! I'm Ariel." Ariel rushed over and pumped Kristy's hand enthusiastically.
What was happening to her moody little sister? Still goth and still vegetarian, it appeared Ariel was now officially religious too. But at least these were things that had been consistent for a little while.
Kristy hadn't been nearly as nervous to meet her parents as Lacey had been to meet her dad. "Pastor Pete", as Ariel had called him, sounded strict. She knew very well about the third degree he'd given Averman when the boy had asked Kristy to go on vacation with his family to Ontario over the summer. Even though her friend was eventually allowed to go, Lacey couldn't imagine it had been easy to convince him.
"I think he just likes to keep me close to home. I'm not sure he's really dealt with Mom's death yet, but I'm hoping that when he does, he and I will get a chance to have a big talk," Kristy spoke solemnly.
Kristy spoke solemnly every time she discussed her mom, and Lacey soon learned why: far from the pious death of a saintly pastor's wife from something like leukemia or an aneurysm, Kristy's mom battled alcohol all her life in secret. The day she ran her car straight into a tree, which was never determined to be an accident or on purpose, her blood alcohol level had been 0.25%. Kristy was fourteen years old.
"I don't know how she got started drinking," Kristy had finished the story sadly, staring out over the pond behind her house as she and Lacey sat curled up on her outdoor loveseat one early fall night. "She seemed to really, really love my dad. Like, I don't think she was just playing a part for everybody else's benefit. The life she lived in front of people was the life I think she wanted. She just couldn't kick the alcohol and so she could never really have it."
Lacey sat in silence for a while, letting the story register. "I had no idea, Kristy. I'm really sorry."
Kristy shook her head, wiping a tear. "Nobody should ever have to go through losing a parent to addiction. I mean, you kind of did too, when you think about it. If he hadn't kidnapped you, your dad wouldn't have been in prison to get killed. If he hadn't been on drugs, he wouldn't have kidnapped you. It's all a result of that one thing."
Lacey nodded slowly.
Kristy sat up suddenly. "Do you know what you and I should do?"
Lacey stirred, surprised by the commanding tone in Kristy's voice. "What?"
"We should start a hotline. You can even put a poster up on a bulletin board at school. If kids have a parent in addiction and need someone to talk to, they can talk to us."
Lacey blinked. "What? Really?"
"Of course," Kristy replied, smiling at Lacey. "I mean, you and I know the same kind of suffering. We could offer support, and direct them to resources. Think of it as your introduction to social work."
Turning the thought over and over in her mind, Lacey stared off into the dark. "I just…don't know I could say much to them to be encouraging, I mean I barely know how to encourage myself about what's happened with my dad."
"Well, I wonder if talking to someone else will help you process it. Lacey, we should seriously try this. I don't know why it just came to me and I'm having such a strong feeling about it, but maybe it's God."
Lacey glanced over, warily. What was it about her suddenly being surrounded with religious people? "God or not, it's a good idea I guess. If it would help people…"
So that was how One Call Away was born. Kristy, much more eager than Lacey was at first, took one of her dad's old cell phones, went and got a new number for it and used her piano playing money to load minutes on it. Half the week she would have it, the other half Lacey would have it. Lacey asked Yvette if she could use the Banks's computer to make flyers to hang up at St. Paul College and a couple of the high schools around, including Driskell. She wasn't very good on Microsoft Publisher, and the flyer looked very amateur, but it was better than nothing.
A few weeks later, she noticed the next week at St. Paul College that a couple of the numbers had been taken. But not one single call had come to either her or Kristy.
"That's okay. It's new," Kristy encouraged as Lacey handed over the phone to her on Sunday for her friend's shift. "We've just got to be patient."
BanksAL99: That's really cool. I'm glad you guys are doing something to help.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: we'll c how it goes. Kristy's keeping the phone 4 me the weekend I come c u. I bet we're 2 busy 4 me 2 answer the phone! Where all are we going?
Lacey eagerly awaited Adam's answer, sitting cross-legged in the computer chair in front of the desk. Visions of New York lights and restaurants and Broadway plays filled her head. She'd put back as much money as possible for this two-day trip, honestly grateful that Adam had covered her plane ticket–something she hadn't counted on, but was happy for, since that meant she could use her money to buy tickets to shows and souvenirs. Maybe they could even find a kicking Halloween party.
But it seemed to take awhile for Adam to answer, almost causing Lacey to fear they were disconnected.
BanksAL99: Will you mind if we mostly stay in next weekend?
Lacey almost dropped the coffee mug she was sipping out of.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: what? why? there's so much i wanna c!
But Adam's response made her pause, dispelling the brunt of her disappointment and replacing it with concern.
BanksAL99: I just need you to be here with me.
She stared at the screen, thinking how to respond to the request when he followed it up.
BanksAL:99: I promise, at Spring Break we'll do more. And remember we're going to Grandpa Greg's right before Christmas. Lots of time to do and look at stuff.
Lacey nodded to herself and murmured, "Yeah. That's okay. We've got time." She put her fingers to the keyboard, smirking.
CatsCradleGurl_1980: does this mean I need more than 1 pair of sexy panties?
BanksAL99: I'll take all the sexy panties you want to wear for me.
/*/*/
The next weekend when Lacey disembarked the plane at La Guardia, grinning from ear to ear when she saw Adam standing at the terminal, she noticed a difference right away. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes. He of course smiled at her immediately and held his arms out to embrace her tightly, but she knew something was not quite right.
"Have you been eating?" she drilled. "And sleeping more than like two hours each night?"
"I'm trying," Adam replied a little irritably, gently taking her arm to steer her through the throngs of people to the baggage claim. "But sleep takes up time I don't have, and I haven't been very hungry for much."
"But you need fuel for hockey, Adam, and I know you know that. It's counterproductive for you to play so hard that you can't take care of yourself in order to play even better."
He gave a resigned sigh and simply nodded. Of course, Adam had always been responsible, with a lion's share of common sense. Lacey realized she was telling him everything he already knew. This was evidently a far bigger adjustment for him than he'd let on over the internet or telephone, and what he needed from her the most right now was comfort and support.
And she could, and wanted, to deliver both of them in spades. They made eager love first, which seemed to relax him considerably. Then they ordered Chinese food and lay close together in his bed in front of his little TV. They flipped back and forth between Home Improvement and Boy Meets World, which Adam hated and always had to do a mock-commentary on, making Lacey giggle. By around ten or so, he seemed almost back to his old self, and Lacey teasingly told him she was going to take a shower. She left the bathroom door open and turned on the faucet, climbing in and letting the warm water run over her back, which reminded her of how exhausted she was after the day. After a few minutes, Adam finally got in with her. But just as she wrapped her arms around him and was about to lean up and whisper something naughty, she stopped.
Adam tightened his arms a little and buried his face into her neck, but not as a result of desire. Surprised, Lacey let him hold her close as he heaved a great sob.
"Oh, Adam, oh no." She placed her hand gently against the back of his head, feeling anguish and helplessness course through her as she realized the true extent of his suffering. She wanted to pepper him with questions. Was it school? Hockey? Both? Was he homesick? Were his professors hard to handle? But she stopped herself from dropping a bunch of words, and just held him as the water ran down over them both.
She lost track of time as they stood there before Adam finally pulled back. His eyelids looked heavy. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. "That's not what I wanted to happen…"
"But it's what needed to happen," Lacey countered, turning off the water. "Come on, let's go to bed. If you want to talk, you can."
After all, Lacey was learning something. Sex was great fun, and it was a wonderful way to show someone without words exactly how you felt about them. But there were other ways to be intimate, some that were way more important. Talking way into the night was important. Throwing fried rice at each other and having to vacuum it up before bed was important. Building sheet tents just for the heck of it was important. And a mix of all of those things was what seemed to bring Adam a measure of restoration that weekend.
He had recently bought a game system called an N64 that he had hooked up to his TV, with a game, Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, inserted. Adam wasn't a big video gamer, so its presence surprised Lacey.
"It's the one game series I like to play," he explained, going over to flip it on that Saturday night after they'd gotten back from a short walk around the corner to an amazing, authentic New York pizzeria. "Travis and I played it growing up. Of course, that was on the old Nintendo. But this one's the first Zelda to be released in a while, so I wasn't gonna miss it. Want to watch? I'll start over for you."
Lacey laughed, crashing onto the bed. "I have to say, that's not the way I thought we'd spend the evening, but sure."
"You'll like it. It's got a great story," Adam took the controller, unable to sit back completely on the bed due to the short cord.
Lacey rolled her eyes, smirking, but complied.
Around twenty minutes later, she found herself completely engrossed. "This is so cool! I mean look at those graphics. It's like watching a movie, kind of…"
"Didn't I tell you?" Adam glanced back and smiled, a fatal move as a big tall flower with teeth hunkered down suddenly and took a bite of Link.
"Ah, crap!" Adam turned back around quickly as Lacey giggled.
She lay watching Adam play for at least two hours, dozing comfortably in between the interesting parts. As she lay there, teasing him occasionally by nudging his arm with her foot to throw him off, Lacey thought about how it had been the most relaxing weekend she had known in quite awhile, even if she'd initially had different expectations for it. The best thing about her and Adam was that they could have fun and excitement, deep conversation, romance, and then…
…just normalcy.
Of course, her mom hadn't understood a lick of it when Lacey got back and reported having seen almost nothing while she was in New York City for the weekend. But no one else needed to understand.
/*/*/
The rest of the semester went by without incident. Each week Lacey talked to Adam was a week that seemed to have gone better for him. His hockey skills were growing the more he practiced with his senior teammates, he reported, and he was keeping his grades up. His sleep still left a lot to be desired, but what was new for a college student?
Lacey's first semester continued to go well for her, also. It took until November, but she and Kristy's hotline began to pick up. And even though Lacey was no therapist and often felt at a loss to know what to say to the people who called, all of whom had at least one parent caught in the clutches of substance abuse, she was prepared to do all she could.. The best she could offer was a listening ear, empathy, and Dr. Hemby's rehashed advice. Speaking of Dr. Hemby, she had, as she had since Lacey was a little girl, helped her process yet another emotional obstacle: her father's death.
Adam was able to come home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, and Lacey was ever so grateful. When he was home, they did all they could to spend almost every moment together, asleep and awake. Lacey typically stayed overnight with him at his parents' guest apartment when he was home. Him staying over at her house was still a big no from her mom and Stuart, due to the close proximity of her little sisters.
She was more relieved than she could ever express that Adam came home in better spirits than he had been in when she'd left New York. He told her the worst of the pain had gone away after his last big flare at the beginning of the semester, and "I think I'll be okay." She fervently hoped so, but tried not to worry much about the future as she was just grateful for a present with him at home.
When he came home from Christmas, the calendar was packed. The Ducks who were home from college, plus those still in town, held a reunion they planned to make an annual tradition out of. First they went to their original rink–now overtaken by other pee-wee teams–and scrimmaged half the day. Then they went to a Vulcans game, still taking full advantage of the Bankses' suite, and afterward to Twin City Slice. It was a full day, and as much as Lacey genuinely wanted to visit with Adam's old teammates, she felt he should experience these times by himself. She made her own plans to connect with Connie before the holidays, much as she would miss Julie who was spending her own vacation with her family in Maine.
The week before Christmas, Lacey went with Adam and his parents, plus Travis and, this time, no Gretchen, to visit Grandpa Greg in Albany. He was a sweet, charming man, never without his fedora and handkerchief, who remained active in his greenhouse and went to breakfast every week with old colleagues from his advertising days.
"And you say you have no grandparents left?" He questioned Lacey incredulously over pasta he'd rolled out himself one evening.
"I'm afraid not," she blushed, still feeling odd when the family conversation ever turned to her. "
"Well!" He snapped his fingers. "Just like that you have one now."
It warmed her heart.
They came back home to Minneapolis just in time for the White Christmas tradition, and by now, Lacey was positive the Bankses must be sick of her. Add to that the time she and Yvette still spent painting, which had lessened since college had begun. But she still made it over to work on her latest projects, with Yvette's counsel, around twice a month.
"Mom, it's just that he's going back to school in January, and we want to make the most of our time right now," Lacey justified one evening when her mom made a pointed comment about her having missed almost the entire holiday with her own family.
"All right, sure, but don't you think your sisters want to see you sometime? And Stuart, and Davy? Come on. You can at least make time for us, even if we aren't nearly as rich and exciting as Adam's parents are." Her mom rolled her eyes.
Lacey sighed, shaking her head, but soon realized her mom was right and stayed in a little more frequently over the next couple days.
For Christmas, Adam bought her a small Tiffany lamp for her room, and she nearly killed him. She was fairly sure this had not been an inexpensive gift. She, on the other hand, had only been able to supply him with an engraved leather journal and ballpoint pens.
"I know you don't journal, but you should," she explained when he opened the box and looked grateful, but unsure. "You go back and read them, then realize how much your perspective has changed. And sometimes you even relearn lessons you thought you'd memorized. I've only kept one for the last six months, but I already see all the good it can do. Try it!"
Yvette and Phil gifted the pair of them with tickets to go see Cats on Broadway when Lacey visited New York on Spring Break, and Adam was about as crestfallen as she was thrilled.
"It just sounds weird," he confided when they were away from his parents. "All these people dressed up as cats."
"Aw, give it a chance, Mr. Serious," Lacey shoved his chest lightly.
Lacey was so wrapped up in Adam the entirety of Christmas break that she barely thought of anything that made her want to pull her hair. She lost herself in tender but ardent kisses, lovemaking by moonlight, skating in the park, nestling in his arms at night, and holding his hand everywhere they went. Life with him was so beautiful she felt like there was not a chance in the world anything could spoil her happiness.
Then some surprising news came two days after they watched the ball drop to ring in 1999. Ariel handed her the phone around lunchtime as she was standing at her easel–a Christmas gift from her mom and Stuart–trying to perfect a painting of a wave that didn't hold a candle to Yvette's.
"Who is it?" She set her brush down in a cup of water and wiped her hands on her apron.
Ariel shrugged. "Some guy."
Lacey rolled her eyes and took the phone. "Hello?"
"Hi, is this Miss Lacey Primmer?"
"Yes," she replied hesitantly.
"This is Richard Chamblee of Chamblee, Chamblee & Luckado, Attorneys at Law. I called to inform you that we'll need to set a date to review your late father's will. You are his sole beneficiary.
What?
"My dad…um…he had a will…?" She wanted to add, "Or anything he left behind that's worth anything?," but felt like somehow the negative comment would be a betrayal to her father's memory.
"He did. He updated it several months ago. Last April, I believe."
April. That was the month she had gone for her visit to the correction center.
"He left you some assets," the attorney went on. "And we need to meet in person to discuss the details. When might you be available?"
Lacey was so stunned that for a moment she couldn't speak.
"Miss Primmer?"
"I…I can come in whenever." After all, school wouldn't start back until next week.
"How about Tuesday at two? Do you need directions to my office?"
"S-Sure." Lacey looked around quickly for a pen and some paper to jot down the directions, which turned out to be quite complicated.
"We look forward to seeing you. Have a nice day."
Mr. Chamblee hung up the phone before Lacey had the chance to clarify the directions, but hopefully Stuart could help her iron them out.
What. In. The. World.
"Who was it?" Ariel was suddenly in the doorway again.
"Just…nothing." Lacey stammered.
Her sister peered at her curiously before turning and walking out.
Lacey, meanwhile, fell into a chair at the kitchen table and stared off into space blankly, trying to assemble pieces together.
/*/*/
"So you're saying he left her money. After everything he put us both through. Not a red cent of child support for all this time, and now this?"
Lacey rubbed her temples, knowing it had been a fatal move to bring her mom with her to the meeting with Mr. Chamblee. But she also knew she needed guidance for whatever he was going to tell her.
"Yes. It's in a trust," Mr. Chamblee answered, nonplussed. He was young, probably around thirty, with black-rimmed glasses that somehow still made him attractive. Lacey wondered absently if it was because of the thick black shock of hair that was immaculately coiffed in the front. Either way, she tried to pull her mind back to the present.
It's just that the present was far too complicated to focus on right now.
"Let me get this straight," Lacey spoke ahead of her mom. "There was a trust set up for him by his grandparents that was supposed to award him payments when he either started college or turned twenty-five. But his parents allowed him to believe he would only get it if he went to college, because they were afraid he'd–"
"They knew darn well by the time he was eighteen that college wasn't going to be in his future, and that when he got to be twenty-five, he'd get his hands on that money and blow it all. So I guess they thought it best to keep the knowledge from him that it was out there," Mom cut in, trying to digest it for herself.
"Until he went to prison," Mr. Chamblee finished for them, "at which time they did elect to tell him about the money. But he did nothing about then, as he hardly had anything to spend it on in the corrections facility. He was actually planning to keep back to see if he made parole. If he did, then he'd have money to start himself off with."
"Oh, that explains it," Lacey's mom gave a disgusted snort. "He came to see you then right after he learned he wasn't going to get that parole, didn't he?"
"Actually, no," Mr. Chamblee's tone was serious. "His parole date was still impending when he asked to see me about having money redirected to his daughter. The only stipulations in place were that you be eighteen to access it, and it comes to you in monthly payments. That's an advisable action. My legal counsel has always frankly been, no disrespect to you, Miss Primmer, reluctant to leave a young adult such as yourself a lump sum. With age comes wisdom, and usually someone needs a few years on them to know how to use an amount this large wisely."
"Eight hundred thousand dollars," Darlene murmured, looking as shell-shocked as Lacey felt.
She nodded numbly. "I-I understand."
And as far as she could wrap her mind around the unfolding events, she had to agree with the man. What would she even do with eight hundred thousand dollars? With one thousand?
Mr. Chamblee watched them thoughtfully, then as he closed the folder in front of him and reached in his file drawer for another, he began to talk in a more personal tone.
"I understand that the relationship between yourselves and Mr. Primmer wasn't a good one, and justifiably so. But despite it not being my job to judge a situation or get involved in any way other than to carry out my clients' wishes, may I go off the record and say that I believe your father cared about your future?" The attorney then said nothing more, but opened the retrieved folder and took out a packet of papers.
The entire experience left Lacey struck through the heart, and she knew of nothing else to do but sit quietly and let the grief wash over her afresh. The gift her father had left her was going to allow her to go to a good college. It might even be enough to set her up in an apartment to live on her own when she finished school. She wouldn't have to worry about money for a long while.
But how would she know how to manage it?
Could Phil help her?
"Lacey," her mom prodded. "There are papers to sign."
"Oh," she shook herself from her reverie. "Yeah."
And with that, Lacey sat up straight and prepared to accept the last thing her father had to give her.
/*/*/
"Alright," Adam sat down at the kitchen table with Lacey holding a calculator, a pad of paper and a pencil. "
He jumped right in, bearing the business voice of his father. "So Dad and I talked, and here are his thoughts." He cleared his throat. "First, you do need to invest a portion of the money. It will secure things for you later. Then you definitely want to pay for school, and pay off the loans you already took out for this year."
Adam was meticulous in checking things off his mental list, giving Lacey sound advice. "Now keep in mind this is just our opinion. You really need to double check all this with a CPA. I can give you the number to ours. But this will at least get you started with ideas."
Two hours had passed, and Lacey was brain dead. She nodded. "Yeah, okay. I can do that."
He leaned in a little, speaking softly. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but the more I know of your dad in the aftermath of what happened to you, the more I respect him."
Lacey nodded, not trusting herself to look up. "Yeah…"
He reached over and softly brushed her hair over her shoulder, and she took a big, deep breath.
"Okay. Now that that's done for now," she placed the papers they had scrawled figures on in the folder she'd brought, "Let's go watch a movie. Or something. Anything."
Adam smiled, pushing his chair back from the table just as Ariel burst into the kitchen. "Adam, hey!" She came over and threw her arms around him, giving him a hug. His eyes widened in surprise as he looked over at Lacey, placing one of his arms around her shoulders to return the gesture.
Ariel was turning affectionate. Lacey thought she'd never see the day.
"Um…how's school?" Adam asked the lame question that always makes kids cringe, giving Lacey a little shrug.
Her sister pulled back. "It's pretty good. No complaints. Hey, can we come to New York and watch you play sometime?"
"Well, if you can make a seventeen hour drive, sure thing," he winked at her.
That was definitely the kicker. Lacey missed watching Adam play hockey, and there was really no way to go all the way to New York on a whim just to watch a game. And by the time she went to visit him for Spring Break, hockey season would be over.
Lacey then realized suddenly that they would miss their first Valentine's Day as a couple.
But wait. Would they? She had a rather hefty monthly stipend now, not to burn, but she felt she could use it on a couple of extra things. And how perfect would it be to go spend Valentine's Day with Adam?
Maybe just this once, she rationalized, and she would get to New York the cheapest way she could find, even if it was riding a Greyhound bus.
Or, okay, maybe not a bus. But a train. She was willing to do that much.
And so it was that Adam had helped her make a good plan for how to manage her money–or at least a temporary, beginner's plan. And when she went to visit his CPA just after he went back to college, she found that he had been correct in not only his ideas for how Lacey should spend the money, but the amounts, almost right on the nose. Should he have majored in accounting?
January passed by without any other excitement, except for her mother's sudden obsession with the impeachment of President Clinton–"a big crock of horse shit"-and Halen having acquired her first boyfriend, Rex.
Of course the poor kid's name amused Ariel to no end. "Rex," she giggled over dinner one night. "Woof woof!"
"Shut up!" Halen threw a fistful of peas at her sister.
"Right," Stuart raised his voice slightly. "We'll no' be throwin' food in 'ere. An' Ariel, ye dinna need t'mock Halen's beau. Stop wi' it right noo."
Ariel grew quiet, but couldn't seem to wipe the roguish smile from her lips as she looked up at Stuart.
Lacey sighed. "In other news, I won't be home next weekend, Mom. Valentine's Day is that Sunday, and I plan to be gone from Friday evening to Monday morning. I'll miss College Algebra on Monday, but I've got plenty of absences to use."
Darlene shrugged, waving her hand in a flourish that indicated "Do what you want." But she did go on to ask, after taking a drink of her tea, "You flying? Or, God forbid, driving?"
"Actually I'm riding AmTrak," she announced. "My first time on a train."
"Och, Lass, was there really no other way?" Stuart cut in, uncharacteristically. "I tell ye, my experience on a train wasna so grand. Lots o' unsavory folk."
"Well, it's just for a few hours," Lacey countered cheerfully.
But all too soon, she found out exactly what Stuart meant. She was already in line to board when she blissfully glanced back at her ticket stub and realized this trip was going to take …
Thirty-three hours.
"What?!" she shrieked, causing the woman in front of her to jump. How could it possibly take more time than a car ride would? Okay, well that was enough to tell her not to do this again.
The next experience Lacey had was with a guy who had boarded with her at the same time, perhaps a few years older, who was either mentally ill or high. He stood at the front of their car talking loudly to himself and cursing with the very foulest of words with no letup for two solid hours. Lacey needed to go to the bathroom at one point but dared not, because to get where she needed to go, she'd have to pass the man. There was absolutely no telling what he would do. Thankfully he was soon escorted to a quiet spot by security.
Lacey tried her best to focus on the beautiful scenery. Countless parks, forests, and lakes dotted the landscape the train soared through, and Lacey stared out the window and daydreamed for several hours.
She had also brought Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil with her to read, and her Computer Basics textbook to study for her next test between naps. And she did hope she could nap a lot. After all, she didn't want to read anything for thirty-three hours.
And nap she did, far longer than she anticipated she would, not waking up at all through the night. But upon rousting, she felt the lingerie she was wearing for Adam underneath her normal clothes itching like crazy. She then realized, much to her chagrin, that she would definitely need a shower after such a long trip.
But she happened to know Adam had a game that night, and she still had the key to his dorm room he had given her when she had visited him last time, just in case, he cautioned, "You need to come here for some reason and I'm not here." Lacey would just make herself at home and use his shower, then wait for him in the pretty, violet lingerie until he got settled in for his weekly chat with her on AOL. Then she would come out and surprise him.
Although, didn't she want to see him play? That was a definite yes.
Lacey felt out of her element in a place like NYC on her own. But she tried to stay calm and execute one task at a time. The first, after she disembarked at Penn Station, was to call a cab and explain to them where she needed to be. That was basic enough. Knowing she would have a little time after Adam's hockey game to freshen up while he himself took a shower in the locker room, she opted to be dropped off at the rink–which she was thankful the cabbie was familiar with–and paid for admission to see NYU face off against Cornell University's Big Red. She sat in the stands at an angle that gave her a good view of the action, yet would hopefully keep her well hidden from Adam.
Watching the hockey game, the thrill returned to Lacey's chest as the magic unfolded on the ice. She quickly caught sight of Adam's number thirty-seven, stitched on the back of the souped up Violets jersey, and watched as he flew across the ice fast enough to set it ablaze. His skill was just as finely honed as it ever was, if not more so, as he rapidly dodged opponents, received passes, and slapped the puck straight into the goal twice during the last period, masterfully faking the Big Red goalie out of his pads. Watching him filled Lacey with pride. She was amused to observe a gaggle of girls down front holding up a sign that read "#37, GoOoOoOo Adam!" in big bold, glittery bubble letters. She chuckled at the cleverness of the sign right beside it, "I'D GIVE THANKS TO MAKE OUT WITH BANKS."
The Violets won three to one. Lacey stood up and applauded as hard as she could, then slipped out ahead of as many people as possible to make it back quickly to Adam's dorm room. This proved easier said than done, as University Hall was much farther away from the rink than she'd calculated. Of course, she hailed a cab to get there, despite Adam having told her that it was much cheaper generally for people to get from one place to another on campus via subway and on foot. But Lacey wasn't familiar with this city, and there was no way she was going to brave the subway system here alone.
Finally arriving at his room about thirty minutes later, she jumped into the shower, washing off the long several hours she'd spent on the greasy train, in cabs, and in the stands. She then slipped back into her classy, if teasing, eggplant-colored panties and sheer overlay, making sure she showed the perfect amount of cleavage. Then she quickly hid her bag in Adam's closet and jumped in herself, pretty sure that the last thing he'd do tonight was open his closet.
And she was right. She heard the key in the door and felt her heart pounding like a jackhammer with excitement. She listened as he sighed, sounding very tired and maybe even in pain as he immediately went for the shower–odd, as she figured he'd already showered in the locker room–and evidently turned the heat on to the max, steam spilling out of the bathroom so thick that Lacey practically sweated herself inside the closet. He must be trying to make the pain melt away. Soon after, Lacey peeped through the slats to make out the fact that he was letting his towel drop to slip on pj pants and a t-shirt. He looked delectable, and she almost jumped out of her hiding place right then had she not reminded herself to exercise control.
Next, he left the bedroom and went into his small living area in order to presumably turn on his computer and log onto AOL to wait for her. So Lacey crept very carefully to the threshold to the living room, about to step out when she realized Adam had logged on and appeared to be hurriedly typing an email. But to who?
Not that it mattered. Focus, Lacey.
Stepping into the living room, Adam still with his back to her as his fingers flew over the keyboard, Lacey spoke. "Happy Valentine's Day."
But she was jarred when Adam jumped a mile and let out a shriek that almost sounded like a little girl's, whirling around with wide, terrified eyes as he regarded Lacey.
"Oh. Oh my God." He turned back around and rested his forehead on the desk, breathing heavily. "Oh my God," he repeated.
Lacey winced, taking a few more steps in. So much for making a sexy entrance. "I'm so sorry! I was trying to surprise you…"
"Oh, you did," Adam let out a nervous laugh, turning back to her. "How long have you been in my room? How did you get to New York?"
Even though she was sure Adam did want to know the answer to these questions, he had apparently registered what she was wearing as she felt his eyes almost tangibly rove over her body. It had been well over a month…
"I came to watch the game, then slipped in here just a little while ago to shower and…well," she held her hands out in a playful presentation.
"Lacey…wow. You're really here." Adam stood up from the desk, leaving off writing his email. "You have no idea how good it is to see you right now. No idea at all."
But she thought she did have an idea as she stepped into his arms and allowed him to hungrily run his hands over her. "I don't mean to be…" Adam whispered tenderly, and she could practically feel the heat in his face. "It's just…"
"It's okay," she looked up at him earnestly. "Would I have worn this if I didn't think you'd enjoy it?"
And with that, he tugged on her hand, leading her to the bedroom where all of Lacey's cares slipped off her just as easily as her beautiful purple lingerie did.
/*/*/
"This is crazy!" Lacey giggled as a sleek black cat wearing a rainbow colored sweater rubbed up against her ankle, surprising her and nearly causing her to spill her Americano. "Adam, how did you know about this place?!"
He had taken her on Saturday to The Brooklyn Cat Cafe, an adorable little coffee shop close by that sported all shapes, sizes, and breeds of cats that wandered around nonchalantly as patrons indulged in coffee and conversation. They were adoptable, or they were available just for petting and interacting. Lacey and Adam had been there exactly twenty minutes, and she never wanted to leave.
Adam shrugged, taking a sip of his Earl Grey. "Somebody at school mentioned it. I thought it was probably too good to be true, but I scoped it out, and she was right. Wall to wall cats. So I knew this was one of the first places I was taking you," he smiled. "Of course, at the time I thought it was going to have to wait for Spring Break, when I was going to have to miraculously cram in a big combination party for Valentine's Day, your birthday, and our anniversary all at once."
Lacey paused, staring up at him, then gave a less-than-delicate snort of laughter, clapping her napkin over her mouth quickly. "And here it is, folks, a man who remembers anniversaries. And a woman who doesn't."
"You're kidding!" Adam leaned down to pet the same black cat who had switched from greeting Lacey to greeting him. "Wow, I could have just let that one go then, huh? You'd never have known the difference." His eyes twinkled as he sat back in his chair.
"I'm afraid not," she sighed. "How could I forget that that was almost one year ago? That amazing time at the lake house. Gosh," she rested her chin in her hand. "I've had greater adventures while knowing you than I had the first eighteen years of my life. I mean, aside from…you know, being kidnapped of course."
"Which doesn't count," Adam cut in, taking another sip of his tea. "We're talking good adventures here."
Lacey got up briefly and went over to a fluffy calico, picking her up and hugging her. The cat complied, and began purring so loudly Adam heard it from where he was sitting. "Wow. Friendly…"
They spent at least an hour in the cat cafe, and then finally left with a promise from Adam that they'd come back on Spring Break. They then wandered the snowy streets, his arm draped around her protectively. "What do you want to do when we get back?" he whispered as he nuzzled her ear.
She smiled. "Let's play Zelda for awhile."
"Oh. Okay, we can do that," he chuckled.
"Or, hey, we can watch Disney movies! There's a rental place not far from here I noticed…"
"Ha!" Adam snorted. "Not a chance."
"You clearly didn't grow up with little sisters to teach you to appreciate them." Lacey reached up and gently flicked Adam's nose. "I mean it's not that I'm crazy over them or anything, but Disney history is actually pretty fascinating. I got a book from the library once and read up on some of the back stories you don't ever hear. Like, about the actors and stuff. Plus, and this is super shocking, Hilda told me a story last year."
Adam raised his eyebrows. "Hilda told you a story?"
"Yup. She's thawed out a lot over the last year. Anyway, she's actually from Los Angeles. I didn't ask her how she came all the way here, but she was saying how her mom had been a seamstress in the sewing pool at the old Disney studio. And get this: the place was haunted for awhile."
"Haunted," Adam laughed. "Of course. All these iconic places have to be haunted."
"No, listen!" Lacey took Adam's hand in both of hers, looking him straight in the eye so he'd take her seriously. "It was haunted by this guy that was fired by Disney unexpectedly after Peter Pan was released. He was actually the lead voice actor. And so anyway, he died from something drug-related I think…and he came back to haunt the place. Maybe he was angry." She shrugged. "But anyway, there was a seamstress who worked there who remembered them from when they were young. She had actually been in love with him for years. And she's the one who somehow convinced him to let go and move on. Isn't that sweet?"
Adam's brow furrowed. "Hmm. That doesn't sound like a very Hilda story."
"Well, I know. But she told it, so it must be true," her eyes widened. "His name was Bobby. Driscoll, like my old high school. Isn't that like, the perfect fifties' name?
By then they were almost back to campus, and his dorm. "Alright, I'll give it to you then. Thanks to Hilda. Okay, so you want to go play Zelda?"
"Yes! The part about Sarai made me cry. So is she, like, dead?"
"Yup, after a fashion. She was reborn as a sage," Adam explained. "Okay, so we'll go see what this next temple's like, and then let's stop for the night. It's your last evening, here and I want to spend a little more time… you know…" he trailed off, and Lacey could tell he was growing bashful.
It was adorable how, for some reason, Adam was so conservative when talking about their intimacy. He never liked to discuss it with her out in public, even when they were off to themselves. It excited Lacey all the more, because she knew that for however private Adam was about the topic in public, he showered her doubly with passion when they were alone. She doubted he was actually trying to tease her, but either way it did the trick. Maybe they would go to bed first and play Zelda after.
But they both wanted to see what temple Link was forced to fight through this time, and once they got started on the Water Temple, the frustration grew strong but had them spellbound and determined to make it out.
"What fresh hell is this?!" Adam finally exclaimed, tossing down his controller after his concentration was too far gone for him to find his way through the maze of a temple.
"We'll do more tomorrow before I have to go." She got up and turned the game off. "Now come to bed."
And that he did, jumping across the bed to embrace her with gusto and shower her face and shoulders with kisses, causing her to laugh, particularly when he kissed her neck. It tickled in a delicious sort of way.
Lacey at last reached over awkwardly, finally finding the switch to turn off the lamp.
/*/*/
Adam remained quite amorous throughout the morning, bringing coffee to bed with a warm smile and cuddling up to Lacey as she drank it.
"What's with you?" she chuckled, taking a sip. "Mmm, this is good."
"I think I'm kind of homesick, as much as I hate to say it." He continued to rest his head on hers. "This has been a pretty tough year."
Lacey was grateful for his honesty. "I know." She reached up to rub the back of his neck. "But think of it this way: you've only got a couple months left. Then you can come home, and be able to say you officially finished your first year at NYU."
Adam was quiet for a minute. "I wanted to tell you…scouts were at that game you were there watching."
"Scouts?" Lacey looked up at him.
"Yeah. I think they were from the Carolina Hurricanes. One guy's jacket had the team logo on it. They had notebooks and all that. But…I mean, I think I did pretty well. I emailed Coach on Friday night to ask if he knew anything," Adam was talking excitedly, a mile a minute.
So that's who he was emailing.
"Of course it's kind of a long shot, becoming a prospect as a freshman. But it's happened before, and I like to think it could happen to me," he continued.
"Wow." Lacey set her coffee cup down on the nightstand to fully face him, stroking the hair behind his ears as she pulled him in. "That's a pretty big deal. But I have a question."
"Yeah?" He kissed her nose.
"If you were to be drafted by a team…would you finish school before joining?"
"Oh. No, not immediately," Adam got up from the bed and went to open his closet.
Lacey sat up. "But you would go back, right?"
"Absolutely," Adam glanced back at her as he pulled a nicely ironed button-up shirt off the hanger gingerly. "I mean, education is important, and I know that, but you usually only get one shot at this."
"So…you're going to tour the world for a while, then come back and go to school?"
"That's the plan." He smiled, donning the navy blue shirt and beginning to button it up.
"Well that's all well and good, but by the time you retire from the NHL you'll probably want to do some other kind of work, and I mean…could you really manage going to school every night for classes? Seems a little difficult…"
"I think I could do it," He finished the sentence for her, nonchalantly as he then pulled a pair of nice jeans out of his designated "pants" area of the closet. "I mean trust me, it wouldn't be easy, but what is?" He shrugged.
An uncomfortable feeling began gnawing at the edges of Lacey's heart. Her responsible, long-term planning Adam seemed to have gotten lost in his hang-up to play pro hockey.
"And you'll manage your arthritis, right? Go see your doctor regularly, maybe even get massages…?"
Adam paused his dressing, glancing over at her. She couldn't tell from his expression what he was going to say, but she did know that when she couldn't interpret his face, it usually meant he was about to issue a disagreement. But he only ever did that with other people–say, the rude waitress at the pizzeria they had eaten at a couple nights ago when she continuously got his order wrong–never at her.
"Lacey."
"Yeah?" She tried to keep her tone light to hopefully influence his.
He paused as though searching for words. "I don't get why you have to constantly bring up the RA when we talk about the NHL. I mean, I can handle it. I've got this. Just because I have this diagnosis doesn't mean I can't work through the pain and figure out ways to manage it. Do you know how many athletes I've read about who have RA?"
He had her there. She'd not exactly researched it. But it didn't really matter to her how the other people with RA handled it. She knew how badly Adam hurt after pushing himself too hard, and how many scalding showers he had to take. Whether that was normal or not, hockey was proving to be a crushing weight on him. And he was in absolute denial.
"I'm…I'm sorry," Lacey apologized defensively.
"And I thought we agreed you would support me, and I would stop when I knew I needed to stop. But I'm nowhere near there, so if you could maybe try to stay positive…" he trailed off. They were still in the honeymoon period of their relationship, and she knew he was trying not to start a fight despite his frustration. She certainly didn't want one, either.
So Lacey found herself nodding, the ghost of a smile alighting on her lips. "Okay. I'll be positive. If something comes of the scouts visiting, I'm happy for you. Really."
Adam smiled at her then, winking as he headed off to the bathroom to ready his toothbrush. "Thank you though. For trying to look out for me."
Lacey just changed the subject. "You're not showering?" she inquired, pushing the covers off and standing up to head for the shower if he didn't need it.
"I'm gonna wait until after the train station. I had one last night," he spoke not too succinctly around the toothbrush in his mouth.
So Lacey took her own shower, quickly getting dressed in a wool skirt with tights underneath and boots, finding New York to be every bit as cold as Minneapolis was in the winter. She blew her hair dry, all the while staring at herself in the mirror and thinking.
I just wish you wouldn't turn the shower on so hot, she badly wanted to say to Adam, not feeling finished with their earlier conversation. She recalled one of the last nights he was home during Christmas break when he had emerged from the bathroom, skin so red she had jumped up immediately to come check that he hadn't scalded himself. And he nearly had. His back had slightly raised welts on it, and certain parts of his arms looked like they were peeling.
One night soon after, she'd tried for a split second to turn her shower temperature all the way left, and the blistering heat nearly took her breath away. It was nothing but painful.
Is this what it took to soothe his muscles?
But Lacey tried again to push the thoughts from her mind. Adam may have to learn himself that his methods of self-treatment weren't good for him. And she would have to let him. She was his girlfriend, not his doctor.
Despite their rocky start to the morning, brunch at a local cafe was wonderful, as was their goodbye at the train station, in which he kissed her without abandon in front of whomever wanted to watch. "You have no idea how glad I am that you came," he whispered in her ear after he broke off the kiss and they embraced.
"Friday night?" he inquired hopefully, referring to their AOL rendezvous
"Friday night," she beamed. "With bells on."
"Wish we had digital cameras so we could see that," he smirked. "Bye. Love you." He gave her one more quick, tender kiss on the lips.
Once on the train, Lacey kept her eyes trained on Adam even after it started to move. He lifted a hand to wave. And thus she left him there, all alone, bearing such a heavy burden he didn't even seem to know he was carrying.
Lacey turned back around then and fished through her tote to find the notebook upon which she scrawled some poetic passages she'd read on Legend of Zelda that had come from the mysterious character Sheik at the beginning of each temple they'd made it through so far. Adam had chuckled at her when she demanded he stop long enough for her to write them down; but they were, without a doubt, the most profound sayings she'd ever read from a video game.
"It is something that grows over time... a true friendship. A feeling in the heart that becomes even stronger over time.. The passion of friendship will soon blossom into a righteous power and through it, you will know which way to go. This song is dedicated to the power of the heart... Listen to the Bolero of Fire."
Lacey smiled at the romanticism and how sappy she could be at times, such a sucker for beautiful words. But something about this quote really resonated with her.
It sounded just like the way her and Adam's relationship had grown. And she had assumed this whole time that their love would show them which way to go. But she was beginning to see that it wasn't that simple. You could love someone, and they could love you, but there were conflicts. Different ideas. Arguments, even. Just because you shared a love, you were still two people. And through her and Adam's love, the last thing she knew in the middle of his NHL pining was which way to go. Sure, she did promise to support him, and she would. But when should she intervene and try to speak into the decisions he was making, and when should she just be quiet?
The question plagued Lacey the whole way home. She'd had ninety-eight percent of a wonderful Valentine's weekend with Adam. But that remaining two percent bothered her. And Adam's final comments during their little disagreement let Lacey know one thing for sure: for however much he loved her, he probably still loved hockey more. How well would she be able to juggle a relationship of three?
She would figure it out, though. Because she loved him enough to do so, and was fierce and stubborn in her devotion. Doubts be damned.
/*/*/
"Well, Honey," Lacey's mom dished out the sought-after wisdom as best she could, sitting on the end table close to the window, puffing on her Virginia Slim. "What can I say? You're dating a guy who wants to be a professional athlete. It's not gonna be easy. It couldn't stay high school fun forever, you know?"
The remark caused a pang in Lacey's heart.
"Well I know that, Mom, I just want him to be careful, but I'm not sure he'll listen to me. What if things get really bad and I have to standby and just watch him destroy himself?"
"Lacey. Come on, we're talking about Adam Banks. Remember me saying he's a forty-year-old in a nineteen-year-old's body? He has sense enough to know when to stop. Why don't you have a little faith in him? This is your anxiety talking, you know. Don't tell me you pulled your hair over this…"
"No, I haven't. I promise,"
"I mean, heck. He has pain flares and has to take hot showers. That's where we're at right now. He's not being hospitalized. Take a step back." Darlene stubbed her cigarette out and stood, shutting the stubborn window with a slam.
Lacey sighed. "Okay. I know."
"And for God's sake," Darlene gestured for Lacey to follow her into the kitchen. "When you go back for Spring Break, do something other than sit there and stare into one another's eyes. Or…whatever it is you do, and I don't need to know. Get me a picture of the twin towers," she paused to place a brownie straight out of a piping hot pan onto a paper towel and hand it to Lacey, whose eyebrows were raised. "Get Stuart one of those stupid Statue of Liberty pens that breaks around the third time you use it, and then get the girls…anything."
"Mom, did you really make brownies?!" Lacey exclaimed, having no idea her mom could or would bake.
"Yup," she replied proudly, standing a little straighter. "And guess where I got the recipe?"
"Somebody at work?"
"Nope. Yvette Banks."
"What?" Lacey was just about to take a bite, but stopped short.
Her mom rolled her eyes. "Pretty elitist if you ask me, but when Stuart went to take the rent a couple days ago, he came back with this," she held up a neatly written recipe card. "Apparently you told her I don't bake, and now she's taken it upon herself to get me started."
Lacey burst out giggling, slapping her hand over her mouth. "Seriously?!"
"Uh, yeah," her mom narrowed her eyes. "Seriously."
"Mom, I'm sure she did it to give you and her something to talk about next time you see each other. You haven't exactly been friendly, so it's good of her to still try."
Mom sighed. "Just eat it. And tell me, honestly, if mix brownies aren't every bit as good as those."
Lacey bit into the chocolatey goodness, tasting real flour and cocoa. But the frosting on top was what made it.
"I mean, and who puts frosting on brownies?" her mom was still grumbling.
"This is amazing. Mom, you did such a great job! Who cares whose recipe it is? It means you can follow one really well. Baking takes a special touch!"
With this remark, her mom melted right in front of her. "Really?"
"Really!" Lacey took another bite. "Gosh, these are awesome. Just wait til the girls and Stuart try them."
As if on cue, the twins burst into the kitchen, squealing when they saw the brownies.
"Yeah, Stuart's taking an awfully long time to get home. Girls!" Her mom, as usual, shouted all too loudly, causing Lacey to drop her brownie long enough to slap both hands over her ears.
"Hot, homemade brownies!" Halen swooned, grabbing a paper towel to scoop up two.
"Whoa whoa, Halen, easy!"
Halen gave a big, melodramatic sigh. "Ariel has two," she muttered.
"Yeah, well you're getting pudgy," her mom remarked bluntly.
Halen's cheeks burned as she looked down at her brownies and put one back.
It was true that Halen was filling out a little more quickly than Ariel, having never lost her baby weight to begin with, but Lacey thought her mom could have phrased her concern a lot more delicately. So she would fix it.
"Hey Halen, you know what though? You have enough boobage to make up for the whole family." Lacey grinned and winked.
Halen's eyes brightened a bit as she looked down at the front of her pink, rhinestone studded Levi's shirt. "Yeah?"
"Oh definitely." Lacey finished up her brownie, glad to see her sister cheered back into her old self, and then opted to head upstairs, exhausted from the long train trip during which she slept very little.
But as if by magic, she turned around after lugging her suitcase up onto her bed to unpack it, and saw her sisters standing there, brownies apparently consumed faster than Lacey thought possible.
She jumped. "Oh my gosh, you guys were so quiet! What do you want?"
Halen and Ariel looked at one another, and Halen quickly shook her head. So Ariel shrugged and proceeded.
"Are you, um…doing it with him?"
"What?" Lacey asked for a repetition, face flushing, even though she knew exactly what Ariel was referring to.
"Are you like, having sex with Adam," she repeated, voice quieter. "You're with him at night alot."
Lacey froze. How to explain all this to her sisters. "Uh," she collapsed on the bed next to her suitcase.
"You don't have to tell us if you don't want," Halen finally spoke up, nudging Ariel but receiving a harder nudge back.
"Okay," Lacey took a deep breath and surveyed the room, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yes, we're…intimate. But we made sure we were ready before we did it, and we're very careful. It's important to be protected."
"What was it like?" Ariel inquired eagerly. "I've heard it hurts like crazy at first."
"It, um…does," Lacey reached over for a book to use for fanning her hot face. "But just that one time. The rest of it you'll figure out when it's your turn. But," she paused fanning and pointed the book at both of them. "You're both way too young to even think about it, so don't do it. Protection or no."
"Oh no worries for that," Ariel spoke up, holding up her hand on which, on her left finger, bore a silver ring with a wide band and a cross. "I got a purity ring. I'm not doing it til I'm married. You ever read 'I Kissed Dating Goodbye'?"
"No," Lacey replied, puzzled. "I haven't. Anyway, each person has to make their own choice about when they're ready. And that's why we don't," she emphasized, hoping to rescue her sisters from adopting the hateful and nasty attitudes that always emerged during high school, "make fun of other people for what they decide to do. We never mock people for being virgins, or call people whores. Got it? Not even joking."
"Ariel's called someone a whore before," Halen primly offered up.
"I did not!" Ariel snapped. "I said she looked like a whore because at Halloween she dressed up as Scary Spice!"
"Okay, well," Lacey shook her head. "I'm talking about for real. Sex is private."
The girls finally nodded, though she could tell they had a ton more questions. But she wasn't prepared to answer any of them, and some she couldn't. They would just have to wait to find out.
"All right, who's ready for bed and wants to sleep here with me tonight?"
/*/*/
"Lacey. Lacey, wake up."
Lacey sat upright, rubbing her face as she struggled to come to full consciousness. The outline of her mom came into view. "Wh-what…? What's wrong?"
"It's Stuart. There's been an accident."