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Home Depot didn’t open until 5:00 a.m., and I was parked outside ten minutes before the doors unlocked. They shouldn’t have sold to me. I looked unhinged: beard going scruffy, deep hollows beneath my eyes, my long hair escaping the knot at the back of my neck, fury and purpose in all of my movements. No one buys a chainsaw before dawn with good intentions.
We found each other’s gaps and broken spaces and filled them in, and we came together like a kaleidoscope forming shimmering fractals out of piles of nothing. Every time you looked at us, we were different.
They were peanut butter and jelly: Brody was nuts, Lawson was sweet, and together, they could hallelujah the county.
“The most important day in hockey is tomorrow. Tomorrow, you tackle what went wrong today. Tomorrow, you improve. Every day, every tomorrow, you get better.”
He smiled, and it was like a million sparklers went off at once, a million little flashes of light in the depths of his eyes. The shine of him, the glow. He was incandescent. Wondrous. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I was so, so fucked.
“Outlaws Dust off their Ball Gowns, Cinderella Story Commences.” We were Cinderella, but we’d also busted all the clocks. Midnight wasn’t coming for us. There were no pumpkins on our horizon.
My mind was a seashell, nothing but emptiness spiraling on itself with a roar.
“You mean everything to me.” My words hung between us. “You are everything to me. So let’s do this. Let’s really do this.”
Hockey players, swear to God, were the absolute worst gossips on the planet. They put models and beauty pageant contestants to shame.
“Give me your hand,” Shea whispered, “and I will give you my forever.”
You are everything to me, Shea. You are my mornings and my midnights, my days of sunshine and my nights of candlelight. You are my everything, and my love for you has no end.
