The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

Mom studied my face. “Oh my God. And you’ve been carrying that with you all these years? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What am I gonna say? Hey, Ma, Austin is dead because of me?”

“Your brother was very intelligent, and he was also twenty-one years old when he had his surgery. He made the decision on his own. I know because he struggled to make it, and we talked about it a lot. He asked his doctor the same question he asked you, and his own doctor said he would have it done if it were him in the same predicament.”

“But he trusted me.”

“Honey, Austin’s death is not your fault. You do know that, right?”

When I didn’t respond, my mother reached across and took my hand. “Austin was out of breath from walking. He decided to have the surgery because he didn’t feel like he could live a full life the way he was. I know you two were close, but he did not make that decision because of anything you said. And no one could have predicted that he would have a rare reaction to anesthesia the first time he went under.”

I shook my head. “I might not have symptoms like Austin did, but losing Georgia makes me feel like I can’t have a full life anymore.”

“Tell me what the doctor said this time.”

“Mostly the same as he said ten years ago. Any surgery has risk, but the risk of death is pretty minimal because it’s a routine surgery these days, and the likelihood of me having a reaction like Austin is rare because I’ve been under anesthesia with no issues before. The risk for me is that my aneurysm is in the area of the brain that controls motor skills, so if any bleeding occurs, I could have some strength and coordination issues.”

“Last time they said that would be temporary.”

I nodded. “Yeah, they said therapy should be able to build it back if it happens. But let’s face it, I’m twenty-nine. The likelihood of making it back to where I am today in hockey after that happening isn’t great. The difference in speed and agility between me and the next guy who wants my job isn’t that big.”

“What about the risk of rupturing?”

“It’s increased because it’s grown, but I’m still only considered a moderate risk.”

“Moderate for normal people whose blood pressure isn’t being pushed at practice every day, and for people not getting their head bashed around with a stick.”

I didn’t answer, because of course she was right. I’d always known I had an elevated risk of rupture because of my job. But hockey was my life, so I’d never questioned my decision. I would’ve risked everything to play. Only lately, hockey wasn’t feeling like the most important thing in the world anymore.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t build something with Georgia knowing I’m putting myself at risk every day. I won’t do that to her. But if I have the surgery, I might not ever play professional hockey again.”

My mom frowned. “Sounds like you have a serious choice to make. Which one matters more to you?”



• • •



For the next few days I wandered. I’d shipped my car from New York to LA, and it hadn’t arrived yet. So I rented a Jeep, and my dogs and I drove along the coast looking for something. What? I didn’t know. Perhaps I was looking for a solution, some sort of a sign about what I should do. Nothing had jumped out at me as of yet.

Each day I ventured out without any plans and just drove until I saw something that interested me. So far I’d been to Malibu, Sequoia National Park, and the Santa Monica Pier. I couldn’t help but think that if Georgia and I lived out here together, we’d visit some of those places on our next staycation.

This morning I’d headed south. I hadn’t been sure what city I was going to, but when I saw signs for Rosie’s Dog Beach, I figured that was one sign I couldn’t ignore. So the boys and I spent the afternoon walking along the water, where they were allowed to roam off leash. There’d been a shopping area not too far from there, so after we were done, I stopped to see if I could find some waters for the dogs and something to eat for me.

A half block from where I parked, I found a chicken place that fit the bill with outdoor seating, so I grabbed a table. But as we got up to leave after our meal, I looked two stores down and did a double take.

Eternity Roses.

Seriously?

What were the chances that I’d walk straight into one of Georgia’s boutiques? I walked over and stared at the window for a while, looking at the displays, yet not really seeing them, before wandering inside.

“Is it okay if I bring my dogs in?”

The girl behind the counter smiled. “Only if I get to play with them.”

“Deal.”

She came out from behind the counter, and frick and frack practically attacked her. Four licked her face, and not to be outdone, Fred ran in rapid circles, chasing his own tail.

The clerk laughed. “Oh my gosh, they’re so cute.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there something I can help you with?”

I didn’t want to explain why I’d come in, so I figured maybe I’d send my mom some flowers for listening to my sorry ass the other day. “I’m just going to look around, if that’s okay. I’d like to send my mom some flowers, but I’m not sure what yet.”