“Are the two of you dating?” I run a hand through my hair. “No. But I—” Do I want to say more? I’m not necessarily opposed to talking to Mom about women. I’m just not sure I want to do it right now. Before I can decide how to finish my sentence, Mom finishes my sentence for me. “But you wish you were?” I breathe out a sigh. “Something like that. But she isn’t really into hockey.” Mom turns and heads across the living room. “Then it’s a good thing you’re more than a hockey player.” Her words resonate deep in my gut. I am more. And if there’s ever been a time to remind Gracie of that, it’s right
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