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“I know, I’m not the singer you and your father are.”
I didn’t discourage him from singing. Not like when I was a kid. I knew there would be a time in my life when I wouldn’t have the luxury of hearing Pop’s voice. Singing or not.
“You’re fine.”
“You used to get so embarrassed,” Pop teased.
I chuckled. “I was just a kid and kind of dumb.”
“You were never dumb, Andy.” Pop’s voice was coated with sadness. “Even though you’re not a child anymore, you’ll always be that scared little boy who cried in my arms when I told him I loved him.”
A lump formed in my throat. “Pop,” I croaked.
“I meant it then, and I mean it now, Andy. I feel like we failed as parents when I think about the shit you were carrying around. You could have come to us sooner. You know that, right?” He kept his eyes glued to the road in front of him, but I caught the way his chin quivered.
I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about, kiddo. You were trying to be strong. You might be twenty-one, but you’re still our little boy, and we want to help you. No matter what.” Pop slowed the car to a stop and shifted it into park once we reached the rink. His eyes were wet with tears when he finally looked at me.
My vision blurred. “I guess that I was scared. Worried about what you would think. You and Dad have been the most amazing parents I could have asked for. I love you both so much, and I turned out to be a fraud.”
“Andy, son, you’re not a fraud. Why would you say that?” Pop twisted his giant frame toward me.
I popped my jaw as tears began to spill down my cheeks. “Because people expect me to be perfect. And as hard as I try, I just don’t feel like I am even close.”
“Did your father and I ever make you think that’s what you had to be? We only wanted you to be happy.”
“What? No, never. And... I was happy. For a bit.”
Pop placed his big hand on my shoulder. “I am incredibly proud of what you and your brothers have achieved. But if it doesn’t make you happy, you don’t have to continue. Dad knew when it was too much for him.”
“It does make me happy, really, I just...” I sighed and watched out the window as my uncle, Tom, pulled his car up next to ours.
He blinked at me in surprise before a giant smile spread over his face. I tried to return the smile, but I wasn’t sure my lips turned up. I wondered if I was going to be this miserable for the rest of my life. I quickly turned back to my father.
“I don’t know why I feel like this. Why I’m sad and depressed. Why I made stupid decisions thinking they would make everything better. There’s only one person who makes me feel whole, and that’s Leo.”
Pop squeezed my shoulder. “You’re so much like your father sometimes.”
“That’s a compliment.” There was no one I had wanted to be more like than Maverick Olson when I was a kid. Even after he became my father. He was golden in my eyes.
Pop smiled. “It sure is.” He removed his hand. “We should head inside. Maybe you and I can put the skates on after practice. Have a little one-on-one time.”
“I think I’d like that.” I unbuckled my seatbelt, then followed him inside.
***
Watching the Panthers practice brought back a lot of memories. Pop teaching me how to skate, showing me all the ins and outs of hockey. Beaming proudly from the sidelines when I scored my first goal. I enjoyed playing, but I didn’t have the passion that Pop and Tom did. It wasn’t what I saw myself doing for the rest of my life. Music had always been in my blood. What I wanted to do.
“How’s it feel to be home?” Tom skated over to where I was sitting on the bench. His dark eyes that matched Pop’s sparkled with happiness.
I shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”
“You guess?” Tom lifted his mask off and dragged a hand through his sweat-infused hair. “I thought that you and Leo worked things out and living together in the guesthouse.”
The WAGs chat. Of course. “Leo and I are back together. I just...” I sighed as I tried to gather my thoughts together. “How did you manage to get back on the ice after...” I waved a hand in front of my face.
Tom had been in a terrible skating accident that left had him scared. Not to mention the PTSD that it caused him. If it wasn’t for his husband, Blake, who knew where he might be? Hiding from everyone and everything.
