Drinks are ordered, and I’m glad to see the guys don’t feel like they have to abstain simply because I do. When they’re in hand, Bishop holds his glass up, and we all follow. Gripping my glass of ice water, I feel my cheeks flush slightly when he says, “Here’s to Tacker. Glad to have you back on the ice, buddy, but more importantly, glad to have you back with us.”
There’s no missing the emphasis he puts on the words “with us”. He means with us in spirit and determination. He means he’s glad I’ve been able to move past that thing holding me back from truly bonding with my mates. It’s an intimate statement and while it embarrasses me, it also grounds me a bit. It makes me realize that what I’m doing—this journey I’ve undertaken to make my way back to a normal, fulfilled life—has great rewards at the end.
Everyone says “here, here,” and “cheers”. I take a sip of my ice water, the talk immediately shifting into hockey.
“Five weeks until playoffs start,” Bishop remarks. “We’ve got a few tough hurdles to get over.”
“We’ve got this,” Erik, the one on the team with the biggest ego, says boldly.
“As long as we continue to play the way we are,” Legend says wisely.
“You all have done a great job maintaining momentum after my fuck-ups,” I tell the group, making sure I look around the table. I’m no longer captain, but I need to act like a leader. “I’m sorry I put you all in such a bad position. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Dude,” Aaron says dramatically from my left. He loops an arm around my shoulders, leans his head against me, and exaggerates a sob. “That was fucking beautiful.”
Everyone laughs. I wrench my shoulder upward to dislodge him, muttering, “Fuck nut.”
More talk about playoffs ensues, and we place our orders. Food comes, then talk moves to family. Bishop mentions wedding plans for him and Brooke over the summer, to which he told us to save the weekend of July 8th. Legend gushed about his daughter Charlie for a while, which included passing around his phone to look at recent pictures. He’s also planning a wedding to Pepper, but he stated they were going to elope to do the deed. Somehow, I doubt that, but we’ll see.
“I’m going out to Shërim Ranch this weekend,” Blue announces, and that catches my attention for sure. Her eyes come to mine. “I really respect what Nora’s doing out there, and it’s a great way to do some volunteer work. Plus, Billy loves it there.”
“She’s a fucking cool woman,” Erik says in agreement.
That is something that can’t be denied and should be celebrated.
“I’ve never met anyone like her,” I tell my teammates, and they all go still… eyes glued to me in shock that I’d make such a candid and personal statement. Their wide, unblinking eyes make me laugh. “What… too much sharing?”
Bishop shakes his head. “No way, dude. You can tell us anything.”
My gaze moves from player to player, hitting on Blue, who gives me an encouraging smile. Back to Bishop, I say, “You, Erik, and Blue weren’t sitting at the table with us out at the ranch when we were eating, but I’d told the rest of the gang something I’d learned about Nora. I didn’t tell them everything, though, as I didn’t want to divulge any secrets she had, but she told me I could share it.”
Most frown in confusion, and I know I sound about as clear as mud.
“I wouldn’t be sitting here with you guys right now if Nora hadn’t lent her strength to me by sharing a personal trauma she had suffered.”
The table is quiet, all attention focused intently on me.
And so I share with them what Nora went through. I tell them every detail she told me. I don’t embellish, but I don’t hold back. I told them how her life was destroyed in an instant, yet how she managed to not only heal, but also to flourish.
“Jesus,” Erik mutters, looking at Blue. She has tears in her eyes, and he puts an arm around her.
“How crazy is it that Willow is there right now?” Dax murmurs softly. “For that same exact war that tore Nora’s family apart.”
“I’m sure they probably would have a lot to talk about at some point,” I surmise. “Nora doesn’t hold back on that part of her life. She doesn’t shy away from the hard stuff.”
“Hell of a woman,” Aaron says with a shake of his head.
“The point of me telling you that is so you can hold me accountable,” I tell the group—my friends.
“How so?” Bishop asks, his head tilted and eyebrows furrowed.
“Because Nora is sort of the standard for me now,” I say. I’d been thinking about this a lot, and I do best when I have goals to accomplish. “I’ve seen what she’s done with her life, and it’s admirable. She’s told me I can flourish, and I want that. But I also know it’s not just going to happen because I want it to. It’s going to take work and continued effort from me to push for those things. I’m asking you—my first line and the closest allies I have—don’t let me fall off task. Don’t let me get scared. Push me if you have to. Don’t walk on eggshells around me.”