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I chew on my lip, a little a

Mom tightens her hands on the steering wheel, feeling things she wants to force me to understand. “And now, ten years later, she’s the single parent of three kids and working as a nurse instead of what she could have been.”

“Mom.” I raise my brows and finally look at her. “I’m not going to lose myself in a guy. Ever. And if you really want me to follow what I know I want, what I’ve given a lot of thought to, you’ll be okay with me going to UAF. I really want it, Mom. Really.” The words I don’t say are the ones we both know I’m thinking. I’ll go there with or without your help. Mom and I are enough alike that she’ll know.

She nods, her hands finally resting more loosely on the steering wheel—a sign that we might be moving forward. “I’ll keep thinking on it, Pe

“I’m decided, Mom.” And feeling lighter the more I think about my decision.

“And if I’d been a better mother, we would have talked and I wouldn’t have made a mess and underestimated you. I’m sorry.”

“And Ben?” I ask because she opened the door to talk about guys, so I’m keeping it open.

“And Ben…” Mom lets out a sigh. “I haven’t dated since your father died. I loved your dad so much, and it felt too wrong to even look at anyone else—especially living with Gramps. I ran into Ben on my way home from work and, for the first time in years, I felt good. Pretty. Like a woman again. And then the guilt kept me up all night. It felt like I was cheating on your father, even though he’s been gone for years. I wanted to tell you, Pen. But I couldn’t. I felt guilty, and I knew if you didn’t approve that I’d walk away. After taking care of you and Gramps, there was finally someone who wanted to take care of me. Who wanted to see me. To talk to me. To spend time with me. I was terrified of losing that.”

We should have talked because Mom and I share a lot more than either of us realized. “That’s what Bishop did for me.”

She takes a long, slow breath, and I know her well enough to know she’s considering what I’ve said but hasn’t totally converted yet. “I hate what I’ve done to us. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, though. I was scared, but the longer I kept quiet about Ben, the harder it was. I swear to you, I’d do it differently, but it was something that I wanted to be just mine for a while. Does that make any sense?”

“A little.” I slide a bit lower down. “I miss him.”

“Who?” she asks. “Bishop?”

“Both of them.”

We drive in silence for a few more minutes. “You know Gramps would have rather died like this than as a crazy man strapped to a bed somewhere.”

“I don’t think they do that anymore, Mom.” I almost laugh, even though I’m too heavy for laughing.

“Probably not.” Something like a smile plays on the edges of her mouth.

Since the mood is finally lightened in the car, and I’m smart enough to want to keep it that way, I have the perfect thing for our drive home. “Jeremy is working McDonald’s this afternoon.”

“Sounds good.” Mom chuckles. “I do want you to meet Ben.”

“Mom. Small town. I know Ben. He’s nice. I like him. I just—”

“You don’t like that I didn’t tell you.” She steals a glance my way to gauge my reaction.

“Yes.”

She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “I won’t do that again. I promise.”

More than it ever has, it feels like we’ll be good. “Okay.”

Again, we drive in silence. Mom and I have never been great at the emotional stuff. “If you need to talk about Bishop or anything else, you know you can come to me, right?”

“Not at all ready for that.” I stare out the window. “And I’m trying not to wonder if things would be different if you hadn’t pushed him away.”





A few moments pass before Mom answers. “Fair enough.”

And we’re not perfect, but we’re better. Mom and I need to learn how to be without Gramps around as our buffer. I just have no idea what’s next for me. If I’ll be able to play hockey, if I’m going to college, if I’m ever going to talk to Bishop again.

Chapter Twenty-five

Bishop

Sixty days later

Dear Pe

I feel like an ass for writing this. It’s such an easy way out. I’m pretty sure if I would’ve written you before…everything, I never would’ve heard the end of it. You would have talked shit, and then I would have kicked your ass on the snowmachines to show you how cool I am.

This isn’t a few months ago, though, is it? I’d be surprised if you’re even still reading this. You’ve been known to have a bit of a temper, ya know?

I’m sorry it took so long for me to write. Sorry I screwed up so badly. Sorry I lied. But most of all, I’m sorry about Gramps. Sorry he’s gone and I couldn’t save him. That I couldn’t hold you while you cried. Wiped your tears in a way you never would have wanted someone to do, except after something that huge. It kills me that I walked out on you—just left without a word, but that’s because of me, okay? Not you. And I didn’t want to leave you, but I needed to get well. Remember that.

God, I miss him. I can’t imagine how you feel without him. He was so cool… I loved him. He knew everything about me, and he still loved me and thought I was something special. Gramps was special.

You’re a lot like him. Not sure if I ever told you that.

I seriously hate doing this through e-mail. I deserve having to face you in person, to admit what I did. To actually see how much I disappointed you.

That’s not going to happen, though, so I’ll say it now. I started taking pills because I couldn’t handle the crowds. Couldn’t deal with being on the road. After that, it escalated until I couldn’t stop.

My mom and manager sent me to Alaska when I almost OD’d. I didn’t get it. It took you, Gramps, and even Gary to start to make me see. It wasn’t enough, though. What did it was hearing about your dad. Someone like me took your father away from you. Then I realized I was an addict and a coward.

It doesn’t excuse shit, but I want you to know I pla

The night we lost Gramps…the night YOU lost Gramps, I lost it. All I could think about was you being hurt and Gramps being gone, and I downed a bunch of pills.

Fuck, it’s embarrassing to even admit that. While you were in the hospital and Gramps was dying, I had to get high. I’ve never hated myself as much as I did then.

I don’t know what you know, or what you want to know, but I’ve been in rehab ever since. I went straight to the airport. Got off the plane and went straight to rehab. Not like that makes anything better, but it’s true.

So yeah, that’s all. Today’s my last day, and I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. For the lies, drugs, not being what you needed, Gramps, everything.

Hopefully, one day, I’ll deserve everything you guys gave me.

Kick ass out there on the ice. Show those guys Lucky Pe

Love,

Bishop

PS… When Gary and I used to walk, we used that time to talk. He told me about making schedules, so I now I have one. Every day, I’m going to work on my Ranchero—to fix her up. I’ve wanted to do that for so long but never took the time. I will now. And don’t laugh at this next one, but I’m also getting a snowmachine. I already picked it out online. She’s all white like the snow—gorgeous. Mom thinks I’m crazy, but I know you’ll understand.