Archive of Our Own

David sees a problem.

His son is stretched out in a bulky hospital bed, gown pale blue instead of the vibrant Metros blue he’s supposed to be wearing right now. He’s covered in nodes and IVs and tubes, connecting him to the bed and various monitors around it, all homing in on the most important point: the blip blip blip of his heartbeat in audio and visual form comforting everyone else in the room.

David had played throughout high school and college. David had not been a superstar, but you don’t have to be a superstar to get your shit rocked. It’s actually more likely to happen, because no one else’s livelihood depends on your body. So, he’d taken some hits, and he’d taken a hit pretty similar to this one that broke a few bones and knocked his head so hard that the ceiling tiles had danced. It had still been a lucky break, compared to what could have happened.

It’s not easy to see your kid in the hospital bed, but David is grateful he wasn’t more hurt back in the day, and he’s grateful now that Shane isn’t in any serious pain or danger.

That’s handled; that’s not the problem.

The problem is that Shane isn’t in pain because Shane is on Vicodin or something, and Shane is lucid in the sense that he can use four-syllable vocabulary words but can’t seem to remember how to keep his head upright for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Hayden, give me my phone!” he demands. He reaches out his hand in Hayden’s direction but then seems to get confused when he sees the volume of medical tape.

The problem is that Shane’s best friend, Hayden Pike, has helpfully come straight from the Metros’ locker room with Shane’s bag, so eager and insistent that Shane had to have his personal effects. He’s such a good friend, coming here as soon as he could while David knows he has responsibilities at home with his wife and five(?) children. Just a standup guy, the kind all fathers hope will find their sons and wrangle them into friendship.

But David is not sure whether or not Hayden knows that Shane has a big secret, Shane is high enough that no one really knows what he’s going to spill, and Hayden does not seem to be leaving.

Actually, he keeps shooting panicked looks at David like he thinks David might be the one leaving. Should leave. And that’s very cute that Hayden thinks it’s going to happen; while Yuna is being a force of nature at the nurses’ station, David’s role is to stand vigil here.

“Phone!” Shane says grumpily.

“Dude, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Hayden says at the same time that David speaks up, “Shane, the doctor said you shouldn’t be on screens right now.”

“Yeah, no screens with a concussion,” Hayden tacks on. Shane’s head hits the pillow like this is too much for one man to bear.

“Would you like me to keep him company while you go take a break or get some food?” Hayden asks after a minute. He’s still gripping the strap of Shane’s bag like he’s watching for pickpockets. He’s sitting in a chair to Shane’s right, and David sits across the bed on Shane’s left. They stare each other down.

“No, that’s nice but unnecessary,” David says very kindly. ‘You’re not budging me, Hayden Pike,’ he thinks.

“I don’t mind at all.”

“All good here. In fact, I can take Shane’s bag whenever you need to leave.”

“Oh, I’m good. Jackie said I can stay out as long as I need to. Anything that Shane needs.”

An impasse.

“Hayden, can you be my emissary for the phone?” Shane asks, his voice frying on the longer sentence. He makes another valiant effort to hold his head at a normal angle.

Hayden’s eyes flick to David again. This kid has no poker face; David can see how nervous he is. There’s something about the phone that he doesn’t want David involved with.

It’s reassuring to see someone else protect his child, even if David is the thing Hayden thinks he’s protecting Shane from. It’s possible that Hayden knows about Shane being gay and doesn’t know if David knows. But there’s really no way to check, until he can talk to Shane by himself.

And he can’t take the risk of exposing Shane.

But when Shane feels better, they should probably talk about who knows and what to do in situations like this.

Actually, David is a little worried about the phone as well; what if there are texts on there that clearly identify someone as a man with romantic interest in Shane? He should probably be working this phone situation, too.

“Do you me to help out with the phone, bud? Hayden already did the legwork to bring it here.”

“It’s no problem. I have the same phone, so it’s easy for me to navigate,” Hayden says, like he thinks David has a Nokia. Sometimes David worries these hockey players aren’t even trying to beat the stereotype of being dumb assholes.

“Hayden, bring it here for the code,” Shane orders. At least he’s still cognizant enough to have some sense of security around his private world. No matter that, when Hayden digs the phone out of the bag and holds it briefly in front of Shane’s face, he finger-stabs the numbers incorrectly three times.

“Text Lily,” he says. He’s bossy when he’s high, the unsure politeness he’d normally be experiencing in a new situation washed away.

He reminds David, actually, of the Shane he’d been watching on the SportsNet teaser just a few hours (feeling more like days) ago: no-nonsense, ringed by bright studio lights, staring almost combatively at the viewer while his stats flooded the screen. Then, a cut to the live Shane in the locker room, listening to someone speak off camera. Intense instrumental music. The following is a presentation of the National Hockey League.

This Shane seems cut from the same cloth in his effortless confidence. Sometimes, it takes Shane a lot more effort than he’d want to admit, even though he still excels. David recognizes this Shane, as he recognizes many sides of his son. David has seen almost every version.

But who exactly is Lily, and why is this the most pressing thing Shane can focus on right now?

Hayden’s stress is clear on his face as he shoots another look at David.

*

Hayden sees a problem. It’s Shane fucking Hollander. Specifically, a high one.

“I can text Lily. Do you want me to just tell her you’re alright?” Hayden asks. He hopes that by volunteering a script, he can avoid Shane composing his own message out loud.

Because Hayden’s sweating. This is a Code Red situation: Lily texts on the phone, Shane on painkillers, and Dad in the room. Hayden doesn’t know if Shane’s parents know about Lily, and he’s never thought to ask.

He kind of suspects they don’t, though. Shane is so secretive about this girl that there has to be something a little, well, sordid about her. He’s brainstormed dozens of things: married, sex worker, has a kid, has a kid with Shane, older, younger, a player’s sister. He’s got no real idea, but he doesn’t think Shane takes this girl home for family dinner if he barely even admits that she exists to Hayden.

“Yeah. Tell her I’m at the hospital,” Shane says. Hayden thinks this should be obvious to anyone even vaguely aware that Shane Hollander went down in a game, so he thinks Lily would have to live under a rock to be unaware.

But he doesn’t know their deal. There’s always something kind of confusing about Lily, like even if Shane doesn’t want anyone to know about his private life, why she isn’t pushing for more involvement. This doesn’t make sense to Hayden – why would you date a hockey player if you’re not up for the lifestyle? But he’s somehow gotten the vibe that Lily is just uninterested in what Shane does, outside of how often it brings him to Boston. So maybe she doesn’t watch her man’s games and has no idea that he’s hurt.

He opens Shane’s text app and navigates to Lily who, oh look, is right on the first page, no need to scroll.

‘Need to know you’re okay,’ is the message that shows underneath her name. There are similar messages from some other friends and teammates, including Rose Landry, which Hayden still can’t quite believe. But none of them sound quite as desperate as Lily.

“Hey, bud, I’m sure Lily knows you’re fine,” David says. That refocuses Hayden on his mission.

“I’ll tell her!” he announces as he clicks into her message chain.

“She might not want a text this late.”

“Yeah, I’ll just send it real quick and then we can put this away. Probably save the battery.”

He focuses on the box at the bottom of the screen where he types his message: ‘Shane is in the hospital but he is ok. This is his friend Hayden. He wanted me to text you. Don’t text back, because his parents are here. He’s going to be fine! Have a good night!’

That’s a bit much, but it’s sent.

Then, because he is human, he looks at the messages above.

*

‘Lily’ might be a codename for a partner, David is starting to suspect. The feminine name throws him off, but Shane’s insistence on reaching out to this person feels significant. And maybe Shane had been smart enough to predict something like this happening and disguise a man’s identity.

It would have to be fairly new, based on what Yuna had told him about Shane splitting up with someone a few months ago.

Not too new for Hayden to know, though. He wonders how Hayden found out.

“Are you sure Lily is a person you want to reach out to, right now?” he asks Shane. Maybe this isn’t necessary for whatever Shane and Lily are to each other, at this point. Maybe this guy will find the fact that Shane contacted him and only him so soon after his injury to be way more intense than the relationship warrants.

Or maybe he does already care about Shane enough to worry. David hates the thought of a partner of Shane’s, already prevented from coming to the hospital by their situation, not even getting to know that he’s alright after a major, televised medical event. But David’s main concern right in this moment is Hayden.

Shane’s been staring at his hands, trying to puzzle something out in the movement of his fingers. “Why?” he asks.

“Well, just because a girl’s part of your life doesn’t mean that she needs to know every detail about your health. Like if she’s new,” David suggests. He cringes inside at how callous he sounds, trying to communicate with Shane in a way that doesn’t tip off Hayden.

“Yeah, I think you said she’s pretty new, right Shane?” Hayden says. “She probably won’t even realize you messaged her.”

*

Lily isn’t new; Hayden’s been seeing her name on Shane’s phone since day one. Since the first night that Shane came over for dinner and Jackie whispered ‘we have to adopt him!’ while Shane went to the bathroom, he’s been glimpsing Shane staring at messages with that four-letter contact at the top of the screen. No picture.

He’s never seen anything identifying over the years. He’s seen enough to know that meet-ups happen in Boston and occasionally other cities. Lily seems to be in Las Vegas a lot, so it’s convenient for Shane that the NHL always hosts their end-of-season awards there.

He’s seen enough to know that Shane isn’t the perfect hockey robot. The blushes he gets when he looks at his phone sometimes, and the excuses he makes to scurry off for some privacy, make it clear that he’s a red-blooded man. Get it, Shane. Especially get it in a way that the tension can spill over to some extra aggression on the ice.

But apart from that, all he’s seen is maybe one text every six months, and they’re not really about who this girl is or why Shane likes her. They’re just…random. ‘We fly back tonight,’ and ‘are your knees still sore,’ and ‘how much did you bench today?’ Just flotsam and jetsam of a yearslong conversation.

But he’s not spilling that to David.

He’s kind of freaking out, though, and hopes that he can keep his cool and keep David off the scent.

Because he’s just learned something.

Some messages between Shane and Lily:

‘Is there anything you need me to get for tonight?’

‘Vodka. Condoms. Fiber pills.’

‘Fuck you. I hope you enjoy whatever dusty box of protein bars you left in the pantry.’

‘Hollander no I want pizza.’

‘I’m not getting you a frozen pizza. It will take forever to cook and we’ll forget about it.’

‘Fine, then I order.’

‘You can’t order food to my condo.’

‘Is not your apartment. No one will know.’

‘I’ll know.’

‘You make no sense.’ And, ‘You should put me on lease. I spend more time there than you.’ Marked read. Then, the message after Shane’s hit.

Holy shit. They have a house together.

Do Shane’s parents know about that? Yuna is Shane’s manager, so would she know about his property ownership?

How much property does Shane own? Hayden knows it has never come up between them that Shane owns a second home in Montreal, and that feels like another detail to support Hayden’s theory that there’s something strange about Lily. Like, does she live off of Shane’s money without ever showing her face at a game? She’s not just locked away in this condo, waiting for him to come home for sex any night he’s available, before he goes back to the apartment that his friends and family know about, right?

No, she doesn’t live in Montreal! That’s right – she lives in Boston.

But then why isn’t she in Boston right now?

What the actual hell are you up to, Shane Hollander?

*

“I sent the text. She probably won’t respond,” Hayden says confidently. He slips the phone into his jacket pocket, and David realizes he’s losing ground.

“Why don’t we put that with the rest of Shane’s things?” he suggests. There’s a large plastic bag of hockey gear sitting in the chair next to him, gear that the hospital had pulled off of Shane, although the nurse who brought it did mention that they’d cut some things to examine him before they knew for certain that his spine was unaffected. Depending on the gear, Shane might be very upset when he realizes this. There’s a stinky garter belt that’s been around since Juniors.

“I can keep it, just in case she does text back,” Hayden tells him.

David reaches for the phone.

“Son, I appreciate you being here, but you do have a family to get back to at some point tonight. Yuna and I are probably sleeping here.”

Hayden doesn’t fold. Two men, staring at each other across a body, fighting for possession of an object: a bizarre face-of.

“Hayden, don’t read my messages,” Shane requests, entirely too late. Hayden didn’t look at the phone for very long, but this warning surely should have come before Shane unlocked it in the first place. David rubs his temple.

“I won’t!” Hayden says vehemently.

He’s definitely seen something. David has to stop this before it goes further.

“Yuna might want that so she can update his social media and let his fans know he’s alright. Manager stuff.” At some point, Hayden has to run out of excuses to keep the phone on his person.

“Shane said she has all his log-ins. That’s pretty convenient, for a manager to have.”

This is getting odd. Hayden might think that he’s protecting some secret of Shane’s, and David thinks they’re talking about the same secret, but is there any chance it could be about something else? Is there some other element of Shane that he’s furtively hidden from his parents, yet he’s shared the detail about his ten-year plan to be with a man? What would a secret like that even look like?

As kids go, Shane was honest. He’d copped promptly to everything he’d ever broken shooting pucks in the house or yard, David’s pretty sure. He’d admitted to breaking curfew with his team on multiple occasions in Juniors, even though his billeting family had turned a blind eye, as was tradition. He’d come to David about both fights he’d gotten into off the ice. Basically, if Shane was going to get in trouble, David always heard about it from Shane first. He knows that isn’t the case for most parents.

And Shane isn’t sneaky by nature. He just has to hide things in his line of work. Big things, like his attraction to men, but also things like balling away his frustrations after a game and translating them into the kinds of sentiments that reporters want. ‘We had a breakdown in communication near the net,’ when he wants to be screaming ‘my fucking lineys won’t use their eyeballs and I’m sick of you asking me this question.’ That’s the job, to lie a little bit.

Sometimes Shane will downplay to protect people (‘No, mom, the locker room isn’t really that bad. I think they realize they can’t get away with hazing like the old days,’) or give a prettier version of the truth (‘I don’t want a slice of cake; this protein shake tastes exactly like the real thing.’)

But he doesn’t really lie in a way that David thinks counts. He wouldn’t even lie when Yuna suggested he let the rumor about him and Rose Landry float around the internet for a while so he could have a little peace from eyes prying into his personal life.

His life would be easier if he did lie more: lie to his coach when asked if he has time to add X or Y responsibility to his schedule, or lie to the media when they ask what’s keeping him busy outside of hockey. Lies to have a little more ownership of his time and his narrative. Instead, they just take every minute he has and then make fun of him for being one-track minded.

So, David just can’t imagine what has inspired Hayden’s one-man closed rank. It’s probably the secret he already knows. If it’s not, well.

He supposes that’s Shane’s business and he needs to have faith in his son. He undoubtedly doesn’t know every detail about Shane’s life, but he knows enough.

It’s probably the gay thing, though. David can’t imagine these two getting caught up in the things that get NHL players in real trouble: hard drugs, fixing games, off-ice battery. Hayden can barely keep a straight face right now, after all.

David just has to say enough to make it clear he knows, with enough plausible deniability, just in case.

He looks at Shane, mentally willing his son to give him some guidance. Shane has fallen asleep.

“You know, son, if you’re worried that Yuna and I might be surprised about Lily, that’s not an issue here. Shane’s told us some things about her,” he fibs.

“Oh. Like?”

“You know, how they met. He showed us a picture,” David tells him. Hayden’s eyebrows shoot up. David wills him to get what he’s trying to say – if they’ve seen a picture, they know it’s a man.

“Yeah, Shane’s also showed me a picture of her.”

“Maybe a little surprising, right?” David offers.

“Yeah, definitely.” Are concussions contagious? Are they all suffering right now?

“Tall,” David almost pleads, grasping at straws.

“Really tall.”

“And, remind me. She’s in, what line of work?”

“Uh, I can never remember what it’s called. The one with the communication.”

This is utterly pointless. David gives up; Hayden can know or not know, and Shane is asleep, so he’s not currently in danger of saying too much. He’s actually been pretty well behaved in the bed, so David thinks his concern about some sort of sitcom-style confessing was overblown.

He’s just going to get that phone because of the principle of the thing. Because he’s raised a teenager and Hayden Pike’s kids are still young, so David has been in the Dad trenches longer and he’s got more experience. Give me the crayon, the flashlight, the hockey stick. The phone.

“You know, now that I think about it, depending on what Yuna says when she comes in, one of us might go back to Shane’s to get some sleep. We can take his phone back and charge it there.”

“Ah, Shane’s place?” Hayden asks. And why does that also make him sound nervous?

*

Hayden has to make a fast decision – is Mr. H talking about Shane’s apartment? He’s probably talking about Shane’s apartment. Shane’s parents stay over occasionally, and it doesn’t make any sense that they would stay in this condo Hayden’s only just learned about tonight.

The only thing that makes him hesitate is the fact that, if he gets this wrong, he knows Lily will be there. Shane’s parents would find her there, and despite what David said, he does not actually think they know much about her. David hadn’t seemed to recognize her name earlier, and now they suddenly know she’s ‘tall’ and has a job?

Okay, Hayden can convince his twin toddlers that mint chocolate ice cream is ‘spicy’ and they won’t like it. Hayden can put up a front with the best of them. David’s going to have to put forth an actual detail about Lily before Hayden gives anything up.

Think quick, Pike. Apartment or condo.

“The place on Rue Saint-François, right?” David gives him an odd look.

“Yes, that’s the place. Is there…another?”

“No, I’ve never been anywhere else with him.” He’s reassured, but he still has to deal with the phone. David doesn’t have the code, but Yuna might.

Hayden has it now, because he watched Shane mess it up the first three times. Should he delete anything off it before handing it over to Shane’s parents?

That would suck if there are years of Lily texts. But he could easily delete her chain and block her so she can’t send more. He could tell Shane what he did so it could be undone, but the messages would still be gone. Is Shane someone who would care about that?

It feels invasive, but Hayden had been wondering a minute ago whether he needed to go to this condo and start clearing things out. This is much smaller. Should he do it? He really shouldn’t do it without permission.

Shane stirs and jerks his head upright again. Hayden needs to talk to him before making an executive decision to tank his Lily chat.

“Do you need to go talk to Mrs. Hollander about who’s going to Shane’s apartment?”

“No, she’ll be in soon when she’s finished hunting down Shane’s doctors.”

It’s time to drop the act. Hayden has exhausted all potential routes.

“Mr. Hollander, I know this is kind of rude, but can I have a minute to talk to Shane alone?”

*

“Uh, what do you think, bud?” David directs the question to Shane. Shane smiles blearily and looks back and forth between the two of them. “Do you want to talk to Hayden just the two of you?” Are you in a mindset to do that, he thinks.

“Sure,” Shane agrees easily. David doesn’t know how to prevent this at this point. He could also put his cards on the table and say ‘no, Hayden, I don’t actually think it’s wise for Shane to talk to you while he’s stoned on opioids,’ but that would be too clear, and Hayden could easily ask Shane what’s up with his dad and get more of an answer than anyone wanted.

David just has to trust his son. Shane doesn’t drink much, especially during the season, but it’s likely that he’s been intoxicated around Hayden before. This probably isn’t the first time his secrets have been vulnerable with Hayden, whom he spends more time with than anyone, and he’s made it this far.

David stands and stretches a little helplessly. He looks at Shane again, who squints back even in the lower light of the room. There’s no visible distress on his face, so David pats his arm and leaves.

He leans against the wall outside Shane’s room, thinking about other hospital rooms he’s seen Shane in, all the way back to the first.

“What’s going on? Why are you out here?” Yuna materializes like she’d known he was thinking about her.

“Hayden wanted to speak to him privately. Shane seemed okay with it.” He sees a familiar look in her eyes – the rapid firing of her brain through information and conjecture.

“I wonder why he wanted to be alone. Do you think…”

“Do I think our son is in a romantic relationship with Hayden Pike?” he asks, knowing exactly where her thoughts are going. “No. I really do not. And, I think you might need some rest. It’s been a stressful evening. You should go back to Shane’s.”

He pulls her in for a side-hug and a kiss against her hair.

“You don’t have any idea what they’re talking about?”

“Probably they’re getting their information straight about something. I don’t know if Hayden knows what Shane told us at the cottage. He knows about some girl or some person named Lily I’ve never heard of. Shane’s being a pain in the butt, and no one knows what anybody else knows about his life.”

“Don’t say he’s a pain in the butt while he’s in a hospital bed,” Yuna defends Shane automatically. And David’s not wrong about how poorly Shane set him up to deal with Hayden tonight, but he softens at Yuna’s fierce, immediate love. He feels it, too.

“You’re right; he’s our mess right now. And he can have all the secrets he wants. I don’t need to know everything about Shane to love him.”

“We know the important things,” Yuna smiles at him.

“Like his Corsi?”

“Like how his father will sleep in a hospital chair for him. And his mom will bring him his smoothie first thing in the morning.”

“I’m so glad he’s alright,” he tells her with another side-hug and a sigh. Everything else is just extra.

*

Shane looks at Hayden expectantly.

“Do your parents know about Lily?”

“No one knows about Lily,” Shane says confidently.

“Shane, I know about Lily. I texted her for you.”

“Did she text back?” He sounds so sweet and hopeful. Hayden doubts it, because he was very clear in his message to her, but he takes the phone out anyway.

“Okay, I saw your code earlier. I didn’t mean to remember it. You should change it later if you don’t want me knowing,” he says as he enters the number correctly the first time, unlike Shane.

“My parents know about…aspects of Lily.”

“Buddy, I have no idea what that means,” Hayden tells him as he pulls up the messages.

“They maybe don’t know for how long. Or where she lives.”

“Or the fact that you two share a condo together whenever she’s in Montreal?”

“Hayden!”

“I’m sorry! The texts were right there when I was messaging her that you were alright. But it could have been worse. I didn’t see her nudes or anything, basically just your guys’ grocery list conversation.”

It had been… kind of domestic, he can see when he moves past the shock of the love nest’s existence. And also, Shane had said ‘fuck you’ to Lily; this is an important phrase in the Shane Hollander friendship vocabulary.

Lily: Shane’s lover, his almost-wife, and his friend, essentially. The whole package for Shane, if he could just bring it into the light.

And apparently, not very good at following instructions. Below Hayden’s request not to text back, Lily has sent a series of messages.

‘How ok is he? Where is he hurt?’

‘He wanted you to text so that means he is awake?’

‘He has to be out for playoffs with that hit. Does he know that?’

‘Pike, where are you?’

‘What is happening? Is he still ok?’

‘He can call. Tell him he can call anytime and I will answer.’

“Lily’s still worried about you, even though I did text her that you were fine. She wants you to call her and says you can call any time.” Shane beams but then his face wipes into deep thought. His head cants towards the most obnoxious of the monitors.

“I want to call her later, when everyone leaves.”

“I think one of your parents is staying with you tonight.”

“Oh. Maybe I can get them to leave again.” That reminds Hayden of why he’d asked David to step out in the first place.

“Hey, I was thinking that if your parents are going to take your phone, there might be some things on it you want me to clear out. I honestly thought about deleting your whole chat with Lily, but that seemed wrong. What do you need me to do to parent-proof this?”

“Parent-proof. Parent-proof,” Shane repeats to himself, pursing his lips.

“Yeah, like do you need me to delete any nudes from your camera roll?”

“I don’t have any there,” Shane says, confident about his device hygiene.

“Because you don’t do them, or because you delete or hide them all?” Now, Hayden is pretty confident that Shane has received and sent some nudes in his day, based on certain reactions he’s had to the phone. Hayden doesn’t poke fun, because the topic normally seems to embarrass Shane.

But now, Shane is blunted by the drugs, and he doesn’t seem to be flustered by the idea of someone knowing that Shane Hollander has looked at tits on his phone.

“I delete. Although I miss some. Not miss, like forget to do it. Miss, like…longing.”

“You’re longing for your lost Lily nudes?” Hayden laughs. It’s a funny sentence and a funnier thought.

“Yes,” Shane says simply.

“I don’t blame you. I’d die on the road without my folder of Jackie. You do know about the secret folders, right?”

“Too risky. Everyone in the room talks about their hidden folders. That’s not how you hide anything real,” Shane says wisely.

“You’re very good at hiding things. I didn’t even know for sure that you were into nudes, and I share a room with you pretty frequently.”

“I go to the bathroom and use the mirror.” Hayden’s eyebrows shoot up.

“The mirror? That’s fancy. I usually just point the phone down.”

“That’s a bad angle.”

“Angles?” Hayden asks. What angles? A dick pic is a dick pic. Sometimes you get some abs in there, too, but what else does the girl really want to see? Shane knows about angles? Should Hayden know about angles?

“Girls don’t care about that. Honestly, I think they’re being nice about even wanting the pictures, or like it’s insurance if we want them to send pictures to us. I don’t blame them, knowing some of the guys.”

“Well, Lily likes angles,” Shane says stubbornly.

“Okay,” Hayden says, impressed. Good for Shane, that he has someone that appreciative of his body. No one Hayden knows works harder to be in shape.

“Hayden, you’re a good friend,” Shane tells him. It’s a 180 from talking about nudes.

“Love you man. Just trying to help you out. So, anything you need deleted?”

“No. It won’t be bad if they find out about Lily. Probably my mom will just nag about how I deserve to be happy.” Hayden has to laugh.

“What a thing to be nagged about.”

“Yeah. And Hayden?”

“Dude?”

“I should tell you about Lily, too.” Woah! Hayden is excited, but he honestly hasn’t been pushing for this tonight. He doesn’t want Shane to regret his impulse to honesty.

“Maybe when you aren’t high, if you still want to tell me.”

“And when I don’t have a catheter.”

“Gross.”

“This feels like a non-catheter conversation.”

“I hope all of our conversations from here out are non-catheter conversations, buddy.”

Shane laughs, his head lopping over to Hayden’s side. His face looks so relaxed, for once.

“Bye, Hayden.”

“Get some real rest, Shane.”

*

David half-sleeps sitting up in the hospital chair, convinced they are designed to become less comfortable by the hour and thereby enforce the hospital’s posted visiting hours.

Shane sleeps like he’s wrapped up with footie pajamas and a teddy bear. David did not know his son snored this much. A nurse comes in several times in the night, apologizing for waking David (who was incapable of sleep anyway) and fighting to rouse Shane for a quick check.

“Huh?” he says each time, face groggy for a moment and then suddenly hit with pain.

“Go to sleep, son,” David tells him, soothing his brow after the nurses leave.

“I have to call,” he mumbles a few times.

“Tomorrow,” David encourages.

Just as dawn is breaking through the hospital window, Shane fights his way back to alertness and grits his teeth against the pain. David moves to hit the call button, but Shane shakes his hand off.

“Let me feel it for bit. Give me a break from feeling floaty.”

“Okay, if you say so,” David says doubtfully.

“What time is it?”

David looks at his watch and tells him.

“I wanted to call someone. But he’s getting ready for a flight,” Shane says a few minutes later. He sounds far more lucid today, even as he winces through the pain.

“Well, you can call later. Or leave a voicemail, I presume for Lily.”

“Is that what you and Hayden were talking about?” Shane asks. He doesn’t seem upset.

“Yeah; did you pick up any of that? Hayden seems to think this person is in Witness Protection.”

“I kind of followed it. You guys didn’t seem like you needed my help.”

“Couldn’t be less true,” David tells him. He chuckles, sleep-deprived.

“Did he say anything?”

“About Lily? No, not anything more than the fact that he texted your message.”

“Sorry about that.” David waves it off. “Lily is…”

“You don’t have to tell me, especially right now.”

“It’s okay. Lily is someone I’ve been seeing. But Lily isn’t his name. Hayden’s seen my phone, so we’re being careful.”

“I figured it was something like that.” The sun is up now and stabbing through a gap in the blinds. David gets up and tries to turn the right slats to fight the glare. “So, was I correct that Hayden doesn’t know about you?”

“No. I mean, yeah you were correct.” Shane blows out a breath through his mouth. “But I think I’m going to tell him, at some point.”

“He definitely proved that he’s a good friend last night,” David praises his adversary as he sits back down.

“Yeah, he’s good. He’s a really good friend. I think he’d be cool with it, and he deserves-”

But whatever Shane is about to say gets cut off, because the door to his hospital room is opening. David expects it to be Yuna with the smoothie and a bag of things from Shane’s apartment, but he blinks at the completely unexpected arrival.

Ilya Rozanov, captain of the Boston Raiders, is standing in the doorway and looking as serious as David’s seen him on TV after a playoff loss.

David wonders if this appearance would make more sense on a full night of sleep.

“Ilya!” Shane drawls, delighted. He quickly looks over at David, his head on much tighter this morning. “Dad, can you go?”

Gladly. David’s not up for another conversational scrum with these hockey boys.

It’s a bit concerning, though. Yuna’s going to kill him if she knows he left Shane with her least favorite person in the world. And Shane is suddenly acting very giddy, despite the painkillers ebbing.

But he knows Shane will be okay with Rozanov, because he knows Shane.

He knows him, imperfectly and absolutely.

*

A few weeks later, David finds himself sitting at his cottage’s dining table across from Ilya Rozanov, both men sipping vodka to give their hands something to do.

The vodka isn’t a response to panic, at least. David had already known who was coming to his cottage today. Yuna had invited both boys over for a “quick strategy session” after yesterday’s rather shocking introduction at Shane’s. David had considered serving coffee and tea, but he’d switched to something stronger in an effort to, well.

Impress? Bond with? Some sort of reaction to Ilya’s Russianness, or his reputation as a partier. Maybe that reputation was overblown. Maybe the vodka thing is a stereotype.

David still hopes Ilya is impressed. He really doesn’t know how to go about connecting with his son’s person. There’s never been anyone attached to Shane like this; never anyone in the fourth chair at their table. David badly wants to get this right.

Still, it doesn’t help that Shane and Yuna have wandered off to look at something in his former bedroom, which she uses as her home office whenever they’re here. Who knows what they’re talking about. They have their own business language by now, and David has never been very interested in that.

David is interested in what Ilya thinks of the vodka, so he asks. He gets a compliment on his purchasing choices. He preens a bit, inside.

He knows that Ilya doesn’t have much longer to spend at Shane’s. Only one more day of lazy wakeups and cold lake water. Play-wrestling with Shane during kitchen and laundry chores that really don’t require any play-wrestling, except he’d seen Shane light up like a kid when a bit of it had happened around the dishwasher yesterday.

His kid looks so happy. And Yuna right now is probably showing Shane the spreadsheet that somehow contains the codes to whip the world into shape enough for them to continue existing like this, as much as they can.

But, as helpful as she is, the boys would probably rather be by themselves right now. Only one day left, and probably so much wrestling to fit in. So many bittersweet smiles to close out their vacation.

“Shane said you have known about him, for a few years now?” Ilya ventures. He’s probably thinking the same thing that David is: let’s make a good impression and then wrap this up.

“Yeah, ever since he finished his cottage,” David nods.

“Is very impressive. I was thinking the TV makes it cleaner or nicer, but it looks like this in person.”

“Ah, so you’ve seen the documentary,” David says approvingly. He’s happy that Shane agreed to show off his house, after all the damn work he put in. You’d think Shane was out there with a hammer, as much time as he’d spent on it. Though he’d been a little surprised, at the time, that Shane was willing to let strangers even on the property.

“Yes. Shane said he, ah, made it maybe thinking I would see it. That I might want to come here, someday.”

That’s. Huh. That’s kind of incredible, that anything Shane’s done publicly over, David supposes, the course of his entire career was done knowing Ilya could see it. David wonders how many times Shane’s done something that seemed innocuous to his parents and the world, but actually calculated as some sort of message to Ilya. ‘Fuck you,’ or ‘I’m sorry,’ or ‘I miss you.’ Love letters through ESPN.

“Did he, now? There’s always something more to learn, when you’re a parent. Even after they pack up their hockey posters and move out,” he chuckles.

And that, he thinks, is the best part of the job.