Twenty-One and Invincible

“Isn’t that Christmas party coming up soon?” Gabie asked me over lunch. I decided to mix it up and get a Caesar salad and Vitamin Water instead of my usual. Patrick was on his road trip with the team and with him gone, things had gone (sort of) back to their usual routine with a few minor exceptions.

“Yeah,” I nodded, poking at my food. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

Gabie nodded. “Positive. Sorry, kid. Besides, I’ve got some family stuff of my own I’ve got to deal with.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Like what?”

“Oh, not much, but my mom is trying to get everyone together for the holidays, including my dad and my stepmom. My mom’s trying this new ‘inclusion’ thing even though she knows there are going to be fights because no one gets along. And my brothers are coming up from Utah and everything for this shit. I don’t know what’s going on. I just really don’t want to go, but I don’t have a choice.”

I sighed and rested my chin in my hands. “I’m just nervous. I still haven’t met the team yet. What if they don’t like me? What if they think I’m hanging out with Pat because I’m a puck bunny or whatever?”

“Then you call me and I’ll beat the shit out of them,” Gabie shrugged. “I don’t care if they’re all professional hockey players. They can’t hit a girl.”

I gave her a blank stare. “You know, for someone who is such an avid feminist, you certainly still have the old hangups of someone living in the fifties.”

Gabie smacked my arm. It stung.

“You know, when Pat invited me, he said the same thing about calling you up and beating up his teammates. You two are so similar, it’s shocking that you two aren’t dating.”

Gabie glared at me and hit me again.

“But seriously, you’re thinking about it way too much. They’ll love you. How could they not? Besides, it isn’t like you met up with Patrick at a bar or something. He’s your neighbour. And I’m sure he’s told everyone all about you. And how, in reality, could they ever possibly mistaken you for a puck bunny? I’ll admit, the way I was dressed at the game was sort of illogical, but you? Really? You’re just so down-to-earth, the typical girl next door. They’ll be able to tell that you’re actually being yourself.”

I bit my lip. “I really hope so.”

“Girl, how long have I known you?” Gabie smirked. “Seriously. You’re so much more confident than you think you are. You deal with all sorts of people every single day at work. You always look presentable. You are a fucking saint for putting up with your grandpa and just helping out around the house in general. Just take it all in and realize that you rule.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Gabs. I really needed that confidence booster.”

“No worries,” she winked. Then she leaned over the table. “So, what are you going to wear?”

* * * *

I went home after work and immediately smelled something burning.

“Grandma?” I called out. “Grandma?”

I poked my head into the kitchen, but my grandma wasn’t there. There wasn’t any smoke or anything so I knew there wasn’t a fire. It just smelled funny. Then I winced and looked over to the stove. An empty pot was sitting on a burner and the flames were still going on full blast. I quickly shut it off and lifted the pot up, examining the bottom. It was completely blackened.

Grandma emerged from the basement and gave me a strange look. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

I gestured to the burner. “Did you leave this here?”

She looked surprised and shook her head. “I was in the basement, going through some Christmas decorations to put up. Grandpa said he’d take care of dinner, that he was going to heat up some soup.”

I sighed and put the burnt pot in the sink. “Well, where is he now?”

Grandma shrugged and peeked out the kitchen window that looked into the backyard. She looked confused. “He’s outside.”

I took that as my cue. I grabbed my coat and put my boots on and went outside to see why my grandpa was standing out in the snow in the middle of the lawn, just staring out into space.

“Grandpa?” I said quietly as I made my way towards him. “What are you doing out here? Come back inside, it’s cold.”

He didn’t budge. He exhaled a slow breath, staring up into the dark sky. “Carmen?”

“Yes, Grandpa?”

He blinked a few times. “Nothing.”

“Grandpa...”

“It’s just...” he began. “It’s almost Christmas.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it is.”

“You remember what happened at Christmas.”

“Yes.”

He let out a sigh as snowflakes started to tumble down from the sky. We stood there for a while, not speaking. Silence overwhelmed us. Every now and then, he would take in a sharp inhale and then a cough would come right after, emanating from his chest. He pressed a palm over his heart and cleared his throat before resuming his previous stance.

“Grandpa, we should go inside or you’re going to get sick.”

He let out a sound that sounded like a grunt. “Go inside. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

I turned to go back inside, but then paused. I looked back at him. Grandpa’s back was facing me his head still turned upward, flakes of snow starting to accumulate on his shoulders and catching onto his graying hair.

Grandpa never liked to talk about what happened that Christmas when my dad and I got into the accident. He still missed him, I knew it. Even though it was seventeen years ago, I could see every Christmas that the wounds still felt fresh. It broke my heart to see my grandfather, the strong, proud, noble man that he was, standing out in the cold winter’s night, looking up into the sky and wondering if his son was up there watching over him.

I knew it was something he thought about a lot. I’d catch him a lot, looking up at the sky, as if he was expecting something to happen. As if he expected to see something and if he looked away for even a second, he’d miss it.

I was standing halfway in the house, in the threshold by the sliding screen door but still watching him as he stood outside. I saw his shoulders start to slump and I heard faint coughing again. I decided to give him five more minutes of privacy.

“Is he coming inside?” Grandma asked as I removed my snowy boots and my coat and went to the front foyer to hang it up and put them away. “We’re still going to have soup, it’s just going to take a little longer now to heat it up. Should be about fifteen minutes.”

“That’s okay, take your time,” I told her. “And yeah, he’s coming. You just need to give him a few minutes.”

I leaned against the kitchen counter as Grandma stirred the soup in the pot and checked its temperature. She looked unaffected. Grandpa, meanwhile, was still outside.

“Grandma?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

I paused. “Do you...do you ever miss him?”

Grandma stopped moving for a few seconds. I could have sworn I saw her hands start to tremble. “Every day, dear,” she told me once she’d started to move again. “But I try not to dwell. I remember the happier times. And we have you now. And you look so much like them both. We’re happy and that’s what’s important.”

I nodded and let the subject drop. But as I looked out into the yard and saw Grandpa, his eyes still turned upward, I couldn’t help but notice that not everyone was happy.