Impossibly True (Impossibly Duology) (21 page)

  
Glancing at Mrs. McCarthy, she peered over at the Sheratons, looking at each
other in awe. Everything seemed to stop inside the room. Finally, I released
the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and said, “We’re getting married
this summer.”

  
That only made it worse. Dad scoffed and marched off past us, Momma went after
him or maybe to leave as well. I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to go after them
only to hear that I was making a mistake.

  
Vanessa threw her hands up in the air. “Have you two lost your minds?” Then her
face relaxed, a laugh burst through. She hurried over and draped her arms
around me. “Oh
my gosh
, congratulations!”

  
I couldn’t believe it. “You’re happy for us?”

  
“Of course I am,” she giggled, hugging Branden as well.

  
“But you’re both still in college…” Mrs. McCarthy muttered, sitting down with
her face buried in the palm of her hands.

  
Mrs. Sheraton and her husband started to leave. “Thank you for inviting us,”
they said to Mrs. McCarthy. When they reached me and Branden, they each offered
a “Congratulations.” Mr. Sheraton added, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  
Mrs. Sheraton looked over at Mrs. McCarthy before saying to me in a low voice,
“She’s a hard one to win over. Good luck.”

  
They excused themselves right after.

  
“Moya, you should go talk to your parents,” Mr. McCarthy advised. “Branden
needs to talk to his mother too, so…” he eyed Warren and Vanessa, hinting for
them to give the family some space. They obliged.

  
I walked out of the area with them, leaving Branden behind with his parents. I
saw mine at the entrance, getting their jackets and mumbling to each other. Dad
looked enraged, even more so than my momma.

  
 “I’m going to take Nessa home so you guys can talk,” Warren said, tugging
Vanessa with him towards the exit.

  
She peered back at me with a worried expression and mouthed, “Call me, girl.”

  
I nodded.

  
“Are you insane, Moya?” Dad shot at me the second I edged closer to them.

  
Momma held my elbow and nudged Dad. “Let’s talk outside.”

  
It hadn’t snowed again since Branden and I left the cabin. But it was still
really cold. As soon as we stepped out of the restaurant and into the chilly
winter night, Momma didn’t waste a second to speak her mind. “Moya, you are
nineteen years old, give yourself some time. You’re still in college for
Christ’s sake.”

  
“Oh wow, Momma. I thought you wanted things to work out with Branden.”

  
“I do, baby, but marriage? You’re still a child.”

  
I pulled my elbow out of her grasp. “Look at me, Momma. I’m not a child.”

  
“And you’re not exactly an adult yet,” Dad piped in, placing his hands on his hips.
“Look, I like Branden too. He’s all right. But I can’t support this spur of the
moment idea of marriage. There’s a lot that goes into something as serious as
that. You’ve been dating for what, four months?”

  
“Funny you should say that, Dad,” I was getting aggravated. “You two were
together for three months before you had me.”

  
“That’s different,” Momma countered. “Listen to us, Moya. Getting married this
soon, while you’re both in school and don’t have decent incomes isn’t
practical.”

  
I crossed my arms and raised my chin confidently to say, “We’ll find a way. We
love each other. This is forever.” I looked back and forth at their fearful
faces and said in a softer tone, “We’ll find a way to make it work. Trust us.”

  
Her eyes started to relax. Then she untangled my arms and glanced at my ring,
sighing. Dad spun away. He stared up the sidewalk for a beat, not looking at me
as he spoke. “I lost so many years, and when I get the chance to be in your
life, I have to deal with letting you go again.”

  
Momma turned at his words, regarding the sorrow depicted on his back. Then
Branden and his parents came out of the restaurant. He walked over to me, while
his father and mother remained at the entrance waiting for the valet to bring
around their cars. Mrs. McCarthy didn’t meet my gaze. She still appeared upset.

  
“How’d it go?” I asked Branden as he drew closer.

  
Stroking my cheek, he exhaled deeply before answering, “She’s not completely
okay with it, but she’s willing to try.”

  
I glanced over at them again; Mr. McCarthy nodded at me in an approving manner.

  
Dad’s car came around. He hopped inside, looking straight ahead as he muttered,
“We’ll talk about this, Moya.” Then he drove off, leaving this heaviness
behind.

  
Momma folded her arms as she looked between me and Branden, shaking her head.
Then she said, “I don’t know what you did to my daughter, but whatever it is,
you sure got her heart good.”

  
She leaned in and hugged me tightly. “I love you, baby girl, and I know I can’t
stop you from going through with it.” Easing away, she touched my cheek for a
moment,
then
held my hand. “Fast isn’t even the word
for this, but I am glad you’re happy. If it’s what you really want then…” she
paused to catch her breath. “I’ll try to support your decision.”

  
Thrilled, I wrapped my arms around her in a grateful hug. When I slipped away
from her I ran into Branden’s chest. He made short laughs.

  
We stopped hugging each other at the sound of Mrs. McCarthy’s car pulling
around. She slowed and glared at us before getting inside her shiny Mercedes,
taking off without as much as a goodbye.

  
“Sorry, she can be a pain,” Mr. McCarthy retorted, walking up to us.

  
“Dad, don’t start,” Branden groaned.

  
“No, it’s not that…” he waved him off. “Your mother is afraid of being alone.
She’ll be all right. Don’t worry about her too much. Anyway, I have to get
going.”

  
He reached for my momma’s hand. “Ms. Douglas, it was nice meeting you. You have
a wonderful daughter.” Mr. McCarthy stared at me with a genuine smile on his
face, the wrinkles at his eyes more visible than ever.

  
“Thank you,” replied Momma, sounding humbled. “I should get going myself.”

  
While Branden walked with his father over to his car, I waited with her for the
valet to bring around hers. Momma’s eyes bored into the pavement. She still had
a worried expression on her face.

  
“Are you afraid of being alone too?” I asked.

  
She tittered. “I’ve been learning to get used to being alone since you went off
to college, baby girl. I think I got the gist of it now.”

  
When the valet brought her, she lingered her grip on my hand, making the
tsk-tsk sound before finally letting go to climb inside.

  
“See you at home.”

  
I waved bye and watched as her car disappeared down the street into the night. Branden
sauntered up behind me and looped his arms around my waist.

  
“It’s just you and me now,” he whispered.

  
“Hmm…” I peered up at the starry sky and rested my head back on his chest,
exhaling as if all my worries were long gone, at least for now.

  
“I don’t mind at all.”

CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE

Branden

 
I woke up excited
Saturday morning. Aside from crossing
the hurdle of announcing my engagement to Moya, tonight would mark my return to
hockey and my nerves were all over the place.

  
Heading downstairs to make myself breakfast, I found Mom in the kitchen. She
sat at the island, drinking coffee and staring into space. I walked over to the
cupboard without saying a word, not in the mood to argue about marrying Moya.

  
“I made pancakes, and
coffee’s
in the pot,” she
informed.

  
Closing the cupboard, I walked over to the island to fix a plate, muttering,
“Thanks.”

  
She placed her coffee mug next to her plate and tried to make small talk.
“Nervous about your game later?
I bet you are
,
it’s your first in years.”

  
I sat down next to her, biting into the blueberry pancake. “I am, but it’s a
good kind of nervous. I’m excited to be playing again.”

  
Her head went up and down slowly. Mom picked at the remains in her plate. She
seemed contented, with her shoulders relaxed and a half-smile at her mouth.

  
After a moment of silence, she finally said, “I’ll give Moya a call tomorrow.
Maybe she and her mom would like to get together and talk about the wedding.
You think she’d like Old Bayview Tavern? It’s a small venue with a contemporary
atmosphere; she’d probably find it appealing.”

  
She turned her head and stared at me with raised brows, waiting for an answer.
I was almost speechless though.

  
“What?” she asked.

  
“Nothing, just that you’re…different lately.”

  
Her eyes softened. “Well, I’ve been trying to be more open-minded. You’ve shown
me how important every little thing is, and that I should hold on to whatever I
can before it slips away.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
She nodded, picking up her coffee mug. “You have to tell me though, Branden,
how are you going to take care of your wife and afford living together in an
apartment?”

  
I turned to face her as I explained, “I’ve thought it all through. Dad’s giving
me back my job at his finance company and once I get drafted in the NHL I’ll do
even better.”

  
Mom stared at me wide-eyed. “Sweetheart, you’re just getting back to the game,
you’re thinking about drafts already?”

  
“I know it sounds crazy, but I have a feeling about this game tonight, Mom.”

  
“A feeling?” she dipped her head.

  
“Yeah, it’s the same feeling I had when I was going to get picked back in my
senior year in high school.”

  
“I see. Well, I guess with you anything’s possible. You’ve overcome so much
before turning twenty. I mean, you’re already talking about marriage.
My gosh
...” she took a breath, and then got up from the
stool.  Messing up my already tousled hair, Mom gave me a peck on the
forehead that I didn’t mind at all.

  
“I’m sure you’ll find a way. You wouldn’t be Branden McCarthy if you didn’t.”

  
She squeezed my shoulder then wandered out of the kitchen, leaving me with my
thoughts.

  
When I finished putting my gear on and fell in stride behind the team as we
made our way to the rink, emotions went wild.

  
Coach Evans nudged my shoulder as the team waited for their introduction into
the arena.

  
“Hey Branden, listen, I have a friend who’s on the NHL board, says he heard how
good you were, but never got the chance to watch your game back in high school
cause you had to stop playing.”

  
“Yeah,” I said, waiting as the guys started to move along now.

  
Coach walked with me, quickly getting to the point. “Well, when he found out
you were on my team, he jumped for the chance to watch you play.”

  
I stopped and stared at him, amazed.
“Ar-are you serious?
He’s here, tonight?”

  
“Yep,” he laughed, then added, “No pressure though.” As if saying that would
ease my nerves.

  
It took a minute for me to compose myself and snap back to the game about to
begin. This was the feeling I’d mentioned to Mom this morning, that something
good was going to happen.

  
Coach shook my shoulder and said, “Let’s go for the win.”

  
I nodded and spun around just in time to enter the arena with the guys. Our
home crowd roared at our presence, cheering us on as if we were already
victorious.

  
The announcer called out our names as dancing lights emitted from above our
heads. I peered around in search of my family and friends, and most of all,
Moya. I spotted her in no time amid everyone. She had a radiant smile that told
me win or lose tonight, she’d still be proud. I was counting on winning though,
not only for myself, but for us.

  
The referee steadied himself with the centers, puck in hand, ready to drop at
any second. I put my game face on, wanting more than anything to impress the
hell out of everyone.

  
At the sound of the game horn, our captain’s stick is first to reach the puck
in the instant the referee let it hit the ice. Richards swerved it out of the
center to our left winger, Danton, who immediately started down the rink on a
path to the goal.

  
Getting bombarded, he hit the puck over to me in a drop pass. I held it, but
only for a moment. I sent it over to Hodges, the other defenseman. The pass
wasn’t tight enough and their winger blindsided me with a steal.

  
“Shit!” I grunted, coming down hard on myself. It didn’t matter if the game was
only a few minutes in, a bad pass aggravated me.

  
No time to dwell
, I told myself. I had to do my job and help my team
regain control of the puck.

  
 Skating down the rink, I spotted a defenseman trying to set up a shot.
“Oh no you don’t,”
Richards intercepted, doing a clearing
pass. Just my luck it came sailing my way. I performed dangles to evade the
stifling rush of my opponents. Then I started towards their goaltender. No time
to second guess. It was now or never. Adrenaline pumping, I angled and
projected the shot, sending it straight to the back of the net.

  
Yes!

  
I heard the unified echoes of “Goal!” around the arena. My teammates skated
over, reveling in this exciting moment with me. The feeling was incredible.

  
In the second half of the game, Towson advanced over us with two goals. Anxiety
chewed at my insides, fighting harder to get another shot or a perfect assist.
Then in the first minute of the third period, Hodges tied us up.

  
It came down to the remaining two minutes in the game and a power play
advantage. This could give us the opportunity to win, or go into overtime. I
was spent. So was everyone else. Our stamina was already running on
empty—overtime would definitely kill us.

  
I peered up into the crowd, searching for her face; perhaps looking for
motivation to keep going. Moya waved with a broad smile that filled me up with
encouragement. I knew I could take on anything now.

  
Lowering my eyes, I spotted Coach Evans pacing around, anticipation coated his
face. Then in the area behind our team bench, I saw a man with his arms folded
and gazing directly at me, appearing as if he was expecting greatness. This
must be coach’s friend that he’d mentioned earlier, the guy from professional
hockey.

  
I recovered my focus and tightened my grip on the stick, plunging into action
as the game clock continued. Danton got backed up to the glass, fighting for
the puck. He freed himself fast and knocked it over to Weir, our other wingman.
He backhanded it to Richards. The tall captain lined up a shot but failed, the
puck hitting the pole instead. Only I was there to intercede before the Towson
player could send it down the rink.

  
I skated around the net, trying to get out of the opponents grasp. “Forty
seconds left!” I heard someone shout. My heart sped up. We needed the win. I
needed the win.

  
Coming up to the side of the net, I seized the only chance we’d get before the
clock ran out. In the seconds it took the puck to fly past the goaltender, my
life, from the moment I got sick and had to give up hockey, to the day I saw
Moya for the first time, flashed before my eyes.

  
I scored!

  
The horn sounded. The arena lit on fire. My teammates ran up on me. We’d won.
And like I’d expected it to be, there was no greater feeling than being the one
to score the winning goal.

  
Everything seemed to move slowly all of a sudden. I peeled off my helmet and
glanced around at their happy faces.

  
“Way to go McCarthy,” Hodges patted my shoulder.

  
“I knew coach made the right choice putting you on our starting line,” said
Richards, the team captain.

  
“Good job, Branden!” That one was shouted from the stands as the team headed to
the lockers. I could’ve sworn it was Moya’s voice.

  
The celebration didn’t die down when we departed the arena, it continued in the
locker room. The guys went over gameplay and the sheer excitement of tonight’s
game.

  
“Great work, all of you,” Coach Evans cheered as he entered with the assistant
coach, his friend lingering behind them. “McCarthy, I’m…beyond ecstatic about
what you did. You definitely proved to me and your teammates that you belong
here.”

  
I felt humbled. I shook his hand, saying, “Thank you, sir. It means a lot to
hear you say that.” 

  
“Well, you’ve earned it.” He twisted and urged his friend over. “Branden, this
is George Paulson, he’s expressed to me how blown away he is by your
performance.”

  
“Hello, sir.” I reached out my hand to shake his.

  
Looking impressed, Mr. Paulson shook my hand excitedly. “Good to meet you,
Branden, finally. Listen, drafting for professional hockey teams starts soon
and I know plenty of scouts are going to want to come after you. But I hope
you’ll keep me at the top of your list because I’m already putting in a good
word for you with the Washington Capitals.”

  
I fumbled my words after hearing what he said.
“Seriously?
Wow, thank you…sir. Thank you so much.”

  
He laughed. “I hear you’re quite a fan of that team.”

  
“Oh, you have no idea, sir. It’d be a dream come true to play for the
Capitals.”

  
“Well, I’ll keep you posted about that.” He turned to leave, saying before
walking away, “Again, good game tonight. It was worth coming out to.”

  
“Thanks, sir.”

  
After getting out of my sweaty gear, I showered and went back to the locker
room. The guys were now talking about going out to celebrate. I was eager to
see my family and friends though. As we started out of the arena, I saw Moya up
ahead, waiting by the exit. My heart pulsated.

  
“You guys go on ahead,” I said, slowing down as I reached her.