Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens
Eight
Wolfe
Over the next couple weeks, I focus on school and physical therapy. I’m not in the mood to party, so every time the guys start piling in the beer kegs, I dip and head to the library, or, like today, I head home. It’s not a place I like to go often, but Caitlyn is there and I haven’t seen her in too long. Snow falls in light flakes as I leave Westfall and head into the city. The Mustang isn’t the best in the snow. I’ll probably need to change the tires come summer while working for my uncle. I don’t intend to think about Rebel for the whole drive, but she sneaks into my mind. I’ve been giving her daily rides to school. We both have to be at the gym before seven a.m. It amazes me how she wakes up extra early to help the elderly members from the community who can’t afford to have physical therapy. Although Westfall is a top-notch private college, the surrounding city is comprised of college students living off campus and old timers who grew up around here and never moved away.
The elderly men and women really like Rebel, and she seems to be more at ease with their age group than with our own. When it comes to training the hockey team in the morning, she slinks back a bit and, of course, that douche friend of hers, Antonio or whatever his name is, is there to encourage her. And, shit, he pisses me off. I don’t know why he has to pay her so much attention. He just seems like another asshole trying to get in her pants, and that infuriates me.
My cell rings and Cole’s name lights the screen. “Yeah,” I answer and put the phone on speaker since my car doesn’t have Bluetooth.
“Where the fuck are you?” My best friend sounds pissed.
“I dipped. Those fucking four o’clock in the afternoon parties you and Dec are hosting are getting annoying as shit,” I say, keeping my eyes on the road.
“No, they make perfect sense. We get drunk and laid early and hit the sack in time not to be burnt for morning practice,” he retorts. “Speaking of which, did I hear Coach right? You can train tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, man. Coach Ramirez wants me to ease back in slowly. The doc just cleared me.”
He hollers like a damn gorilla. Truth is, I’m pretty damn stoked about getting back on the ice.
“It’s good news,” I agree.
“So get your ass back here and party,” he says.
“I’m heading home to see Caitlyn. I had my appointment at the hospital so I’m in town anyway. Figured since I’m not coming home for Thanksgiving I might as well drop in for a visit,” I explain.
“Okay, fine. But when you get back to Westfall we’re having a beer to celebrate,” he says.
“Yeah, if you’re not totally smashed by then,” I scoff. “Speaking of which. Don’t you think you need to lay off the partying a bit? You and Dec have been lagging the last couple games. After break, things are going to ramp up. We need to stay focused. I want the championship more than anything right now,” I say.
I hear him exhale into the phone. “You got a point, Dad. We’ll chill with the parties after Thanksgiving. Speaking of which, are you coming home with me this weekend?”
I’ve been going to Cole’s house for Thanksgiving for the last number of years. The Davises have been nothing but warm and welcoming to me, but this year, I’m just not in the mood. I don’t know what it is. “I think I’ll stay back at the house and catch up on some work. Maybe train a little more.”
“Fuck, man, you’re boring the shit out of me. I’m not leaving you behind on Thanksgiving. Who’s going to buffer between Amber and me? Last time I was home, I swear she was watching me like she wanted to jump my bones,” he says, and I hear the disgust in his tone.
“Sorry, man. You’ll need to deal with your step mommy on your own this time around.”
“Fuck you, and don’t call her that,” he snarls.
“Sorry.” I flinch, knowing it’s a sore spot for him. His mom passed away freshman year of high school. His dad got remarried our senior year. His new wife at the time was a twenty-two-year-old bombshell. To everyone it’s obvious why Amber married Mr. Davis, but he doesn’t seem to give a shit.
“It’s fine. Just tell me you’ll come,” Cole whines.
“Sorry. I need a quiet weekend to refocus,” I say.
He huffs. “Say hi to Caitlyn for me.”
When we were younger, Caitlyn was my annoying little sister who would interrupt our play time, but after what happened, Caitlyn and Cole became friends, and I’m pretty sure my sister has a crush on him.
“Will do. Just make sure you kick everyone out of the house by midnight. I want your top game for practice tomorrow,” I remind him.
“Yes, sir,” he says with a deep, assertive voice. “Peace, jackass.” And with that he hangs up the phone and I pull into the long drive of my parents’ mansion.
The nanny greats me at the door. “Hi, Lana,” I say and give her a hug. She’s been with my family since freshman year of high school and she’s been amazing with Caitlyn.
“How’s the leg? Caitlyn told me what happened,” she says.
“Much better now. I’m getting back on the ice tomorrow.”
“Good luck. I’m sure your team will be champions this year,” she says, and I love how supportive our nanny is. Unlike my father.
“Thanks, Lana.” I take a few steps and walk deeper into the house. “Is he here?” I ask, referring to my father.
She shakes her head. “Washington the next few days.”
Of course he is. That way he doesn’t have to deal with his broken family. He can go on acting as if everything is normal.
“And my mom?” I ask.
“Mrs. Ellison is upstairs on the mezzanine. She likes to look out the window there,” Lana says, which is probably code that my mother is so far gone she is in outer space staring into the air.
“And Caitlyn?” I ask, just as my sister wheels herself over to me.
“Hey there, big brother,” she says. Her dog Fluffy is by her side as usual.
I lean down and give her a hug and then pat Fluffy’s head. “I got you these,” I say, passing her a box of her favorite chocolate from a master chocolatier on Main Street.
“You shouldn’t have,” she says and takes the box with a sly grin. “Come, let’s go have a seat.” Caitlyn wheels herself toward a large living room space off the main entrance hallway.
I take a seat in one of the wing chairs and Caitlyn parks herself beside me. “Sorry it’s taken me so long to come home,” I say as Fluffy hops up to jump on my lap.
“I missed you too, girl.” I rub her back and she settles on my lap.
Caitlyn frowns. “How’s your leg?”
I look down at my leg and stretch it out. “You know, it’s been kind of a journey,” I tell her. “But it’s better now. I’ve been given the all clear to be back on the ice tomorrow.” Just saying the words causes rancid guilt to crawl all over me. I can’t complain about a break that was fixable. Caitlyn has a back injury and lost the lower part of her right leg. Surgery has been put on the table to help her walk again with a prosthesis, but my sister is stubborn.
“I was hoping to come out and watch a game,” she says. She’s now a senior in high school. She’s chosen to be homeschooled because of her injury and the fact that she’s in a wheelchair. Her saying she wants to see me play in person is a big fucking deal because she doesn’t go out in public much. Not after the news reporters had a field day with our story after the accident. Cait became the center of their attention and it was a nightmare.
“That would be great. For now, I’m just joining in the practices. I’m hoping I can be back to playing in games within the next few weeks,” I say. Except for Caitlyn, I hate being in this house. There are no good childhood memories here. It only reminds me of my lonely, pathetic childhood. A potent mix of anxiety and guilt eat away at me every time I’m home, but I love my sister and I try to be here as much as I can, given my crazy hockey schedule.
“Are you going to come home this weekend?” she asks, and I wince, hating to hear the hope in her voice.
“You know Dad wouldn’t want me here,” I remind her, and I don’t really care to see him either. Not after the way he’s treated me.
“That’s not true. He misses you, Wolfe. He’s bad at showing affection, but he loves you.”
“I don’t think he loves anyone but himself, but hey, what would I know,” I say, feeling the familiar self-loathing wrapping itself around my limbs and threatening to choke me.
“Come on. Don’t.” She leans forward and takes my hand. “You’re a good and loving big brother. I couldn’t have asked for a better sibling.” Her words cause the feelings of being unworthy to grow deeper and deeper until I feel like I’m being swallowed whole, and that’s when Fluffy decides to turn around and lick my face.
Cait laughs. “Fluffy agrees.”
I take the dog and place her on the floor. A part of me doesn’t feel deserving of love; not even from the dog.
“Stop. You know I’m not.” I pull my hand from her grasp and stand. I take a few steps and give her my back because the last thing I need is for Caitlyn to feel sorry for me. “I spend most of my time at college. I barely come back to see you.”
“You’re living your life. I wouldn’t want you to stay home. I want you to be out there succeeding,” she says, because she’s thoughtful and amazing and it should be me in that chair, not her.
“I don’t know what I’m succeeding at. I seem to be failing all around. But enough about me. Tell me how things are going here. Have you applied to any colleges?” I ask.
“I applied, but I still don’t know if it’s what I want.”
“You’ve been designing dresses ever since I can remember. Do you really want to give up on that dream? You can go to college, Cait. The campuses are wheelchair accessible and so are the dorms.”
“And who is going to want to room with the crippled girl?” she scoffs.
“Everyone, once they realize how amazing you are,” I say, but my words feel limp to my own ears. I can’t help but think of the way Rebel walks around campus like she’s invisible, and I just feel so angry.
“We both know that’s not how real life works. You saw how my friends reacted after the accident. Jack dumped me before I even left the hospital,” she says. “What was it that he said?” She taps her chin. “Oh yeah, things got a little too complicated.”
Her words feel like a lash cutting me open again and again. “Jack was a stupid-ass kid who wasn’t worth your time. He’ll end up running his father’s Fortune 500 company and live a shallow existence until one day he’ll find himself drowning at the bottom of a bottle,” I snap, feeling my emotions running high. I don’t mean for my voice to be so loud, but I can’t help it either.
Cait wheels herself closer to me. “Relax, big brother. What has you so twisted up?”
“I don’t know. Life?” I say.
Cait gives me a curious look. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll consider college again. Besides, there are still a few months before we get some answers anyway. My therapist has been pushing me to apply. She says staying here would be like resigning to live my life in a toxic environment, and she isn’t wrong.”
“What about the surgery?” I ask, knowing it’s a sensitive topic. “I was talking to Dr. Egerton when I saw him and he says it’s worth a shot.”
“And if something goes wrong, I can be worse off,” she reminds me.
“Those chances are low,” I say, even though I’m scared of those small percentages the doctors speak of too. If Cait could just walk again, she could be like Rebel. Limping on one leg. It would be better than the chair.
She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m considering it, okay?” I see her eyes fill with unshed tears before she looks away.
“I don’t want to upset you. I want the best for you. I can be with you through the whole thing. Classes end in April and I can be by your side.”
“Thank you,” she says, but she doesn’t look me in the eyes and I hate it. “Talking about college is easier than the surgery.” She smiles. “I know it would be good for me to leave this house. That’s why my therapist suggested I go to a game and get a feel for what college life is like without the commitment.”
“I hope to be game ready soon. I’d love for you to come watch me play.” My parents had never come to watch any of my games when I played junior hockey. I always had my dad’s driver take me and pick me up from games. “And you need the hell out of here,” I say, thinking of my mother. The house seems eerily quiet. “Where is our dear mother anyway?”
“Probably in the same spot she was when you walked in,” Cait says dryly. “She says less and less these days. I’m not sure what I prefer more. The stone silence or the crazed outbursts.”
“Shit, Cait. I hate this for you.”
“So come back for Thanksgiving,” she pleads.
“I’m not sitting at a table with our father and having a meal,” I say.
“Well, I’ve got to hand it to you. You’ve done good without his help.” She snickers.
“Yeah, and I plan on continuing to do well.” I puff out my chest.
“Still working on that political science degree?”
“Yeah, you know I am,” I say. “Why?”
“Because, when are you going to take your stupid head out of your ass and realize you don’t want to become a lawyer? If you spent more time training and less time studying, you could enter the draft next year.”
“What?” I ask, thrown off by my sister. Even though I shouldn’t be. Cait has a way of getting in my head and understanding it better than me.
“You heard me,” she says, raising her right brow. We’re only two years apart, so growing up, we were close. When we were younger, we would fight a bit or play fight. Then, as we got older, we became good friends, even though we always liked to horse around. Probably because it annoyed the shit out of our parents.
“I’ve been thinking about that lately. I still need the grades to keep my scholarship, though,” I say.
“Do what makes you happy, Wolfe. If life has taught either of us anything, it’s that we need to make the most of our time.” A look of resigned sadness crosses her face.
“Can you please give yourself the advice you seem to be dishing so easily?” I ask her back.
“I’ve got issues. This wheelchair is hard to accept. I don’t want it. I want my old life back,” she says sadly.
I lean over and hug her. “I know, Cait. I know.”
I wish I could do something to make her feel better, but I’m at a loss. Before leaving the house, I go for a quick visit with my mother. When I find her, she’s sitting in a chair in front of the large window on the mezzanine level of our home. From here I can see the large property covered in green grass and manicured gardens. From the outside everything seems so perfect.
“How are you, Mom?” I ask her, but today, I get no reply. She has a blank look on her face. “Cait could sure use your wisdom about now,” I say, because I hate that my mother would rather be stoned out of her mind than be a mother to her daughter who clearly needs her. Even though I know Cait is tough and working through her issues.
I watch her lower lip tremble, but I still don’t get a response. I kiss her forehead. “It was good seeing you too, Mom. Happy Thanksgiving.” I stand and wait. Nothing.
I turn back down the stairs and tell Cait I’ll pick her up for our next game.
“It’s fine. I can have Jeffries drive me,” she says.
“If I can swing it, you’re coming with me,” I tell her. She needs to have some normalcy. And if I can show her what Westfall College is all about, then that’s what I’ll do.
“My chair won’t fit in your car.”
Lana walks into the room at that exact moment. “I was just going to offer you some coffee or tea, but I hear you need a vehicle. You can take the Escalade. It’s Cait’s car,” Lana says.
“She’s right,” Cait says. “Technically, the Escalade is mine. You can drive here and leave your car and take me in the Escalade.”
I hate using anything purchased by my father, but for Cait, I make the exception.
“Deal. So, I’ll be in touch soon. Happy Thanksgiving.” I give my sister and Lana a hug and then I head back out to my car, feeling like shit that I have to leave Cait in this broken palace.