Yay.
Before he can say anything, I ask, “What’ve you got planned today?”
“Nothing really,” he says, opening a box. “We’re on baby watch, but I did say I would keep Zac while they had practice. Posey wore him on the ice the other day, and Boone freaked out.”
I laugh. “Is he really surprised? That’s so Posey.”
Dad nods. “For sure. That’s what I said. I think Shelli will be the same. Just like Mom.”
My dad loves my mom, more than anything in the world. They have the greatest love story, to the point that Shelli sent it in to Hallmark for a movie adaptation. That was a couple years ago, so I guess they weren’t impressed by my parents’ love, but we all are. It’s hard to love someone who doesn’t love themselves or see themselves as worthy. But my dad loved my mom enough for both of them. I used to think love like that didn’t exist anymore, but then Owen found Angie, and it was like a repeat of our parents.
I doubt that can happen a third time. Especially when no one even likes to talk about mental health, so why would anyone want to love me with my issues?
Wow, I’m being a bit dramatic.
I shake my head as I unpack the towels I need. “For sure,” I say to fill the silence as I scratch my chest.
“How’s the tattoo healing?”
I grin more to myself than at him. Owen, Shelli, Posey, Quinn, and I went to get matching “Adler” tattoos. Owen and I got ours across our chest, while Quinn went with his across his shoulder blades. Shelli got hers along her left wrist, and Posey did hers along her right wrist. I like how we ultimately all match, but we match closest with the sibling we grew up alongside. Since Quinn is a loser with no close sibling, we say he has his own back, which is why he got it back there.
“Yeah, super itches.”
“Think you’ll get some more?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
He doesn’t say anything to that, so we unpack in tension-filled silence. I know he wants to say something, probably yell at me or even shake me, but he doesn’t. We get my room done and unpacked with no discussion of anything of importance. When he asks about the meetings I had this morning, I use that to fill the silence.
“Meeting with Jayden and River went great. I’m basically a babysitter, but Jayden did offer to switch me to be the student trainer for his team.”
He seems as surprised as I was. “What did you say?”
“I said no because the guy who’s doing it has been in the position for three years already, he’s a senior, and I don’t want to take that from him.”
“So, you’ll stay with the girls?”
“Yeah,” I say, laying out my clothes. “I’m okay with it. Their coach is awesome, and my adviser is one of the smartest and most successful trainers at the school. She is a Team USA trainer.”
“Wow, I wouldn’t have switched either.”
“I figured since I haven’t had any hands-on experience, only online, I wanted to be with the best for this year.”
“Very smart. I agree. Sucks since I want you around the ice, but smart.”
“Yeah,” I say, but I don’t agree. I feel as though, if I’m around the ice, people are going to expect me to get on it, and that’s not happening.
“How’s that going?”
I bring up my brow. “Huh?”
“Have you skated?”
I swallow hard, unable to look at him. It doesn’t matter if I’m looking or not; he’ll know if I’m lying. “No.”
I can feel his gaze. “Have you tried?”
“No,” I confess.
“Maybe you could try with Owen—”
“I have,” I say quickly. “I freeze up. It’s bullshit.”
When I feel his hand on my shoulder, I tense. He makes some kind of disgruntled noise before he forces me into his embrace. He wraps his arms around me, suffocating me in his hug, but all at once, the tension leaves my body, and I lean into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, holding him as tightly as he holds me.
“Evan, it’s okay,” he whispers, squeezing me. “It’s all okay. Every day, you are growing, you are living, and I am so proud of you.” He has so much emotion and love in his voice. “You could never skate again, and I wouldn’t give two shits as long as you are happy with your choice. Are you happy, bud?”
“No,” I admit. “I want to make you proud.”
He leans back, forcing me to look deep into his eyes. His eyes are sparkling with compassion and love. I’m taken aback by the way he is looking at me. There is absolutely no disappointment in his eyes, only love. While I’ve been my dad’s height since I was fourteen, I’ve always felt so much smaller than him. He’s such a large man, figuratively and literally. He is my hero.
“Let me tell you a secret, Evan,” he says softly. “When you were potty training and you pissed in that little Dora toilet, I was proud. Wanna know why?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, though I do have questions as to why I was pissing in a Dora the Explorer toilet and not something cool like Ninja Turtles. “Because you are my boy,” he says sternly, holding my gaze. “My baby boy. Anything you do, I am proud of. I am proud of you as a whole, not because of what you can do. Your accomplishments only add to your awesomeness. You are who I am proud of, buddy. You. Evan Michael Adler. My boy.”
Tears burn my eyes. “I’m letting down your legacy.”
His whole face scrunches up. “My legacy is you five kids. Not what y’all do or how you do it, but that you are on this earth, being you. Each of you adds so much joy to this world, and it’s not because of your careers. Shelli and Posey are and will be great moms. They are going to mold those kids’ minds, and they are already molding the hockey players’ minds. Owen volunteers and uses his platform to bring awareness to mental health. Quinn wants to help hockey players get back to the ice as soon as possible. And look at you.”
“Yeah, I quit—”
“You chose your mental health over a sport you love,” he corrects, holding my gaze. “Do you know what kind of courage that takes?”
I swallow hard, unable to look away.
“Then you came home, and you’re now so involved in all your siblings’ lives, and you help me and your mom. And then, you decided to go back to school, where not only are you getting a degree in sports therapy but also a minor in sports training. Jesus, Evan, that’s incredible. You’re using your struggles to help others. You are an RA and a team sports trainer—don’t you see how incredible that is? Bud, you’re adding more and more to my legacy and yours. I am so proud, and I love you.”
I want to believe him, but I have to ask, “Why, Dad? I gave up—”
“Stop saying it like that,” he demands, shaking me gently. “You didn’t quit or give up. You chose to take care of you. There are people who don’t do that, and they end up addicted to a substance or ultimately end it all. You walked away to protect yourself and not end up like that. I applaud that. We all do. We just want you to be the best version of you, bud. And we support you, no matter what.”
A tear runs down my cheek as his words rattle my soul. It’s everything I want to believe, and coming from my hero, I should totally know it’s the truth. But this nagging feeling in my mind tells me he has to say this. I’m his son; he has to keep me going.