Light the Lamp (35 page)

Sure enough, the longer I talked, the less they did, until it was an eerie silence on the other end of the line.

I tried to push through. “One of the players from the Storm was helping me out—”

“
You lost the house?” Chris interrupted. “You really are homeless?”
 

“
Yes.” I pinched the bridge of my nose again. “Technically.”
 

“
Why didn’t you call us?” Ethan shouted into the phone, which only made my head hurt more. “Why didn’t you use some of the college money to get a place to live? God, Noelle. I’m coming home.”
 

“
There’s no home for you to come to,” I argued.
 

“
I’m coming, too,” Chris said. “We’ll use whatever insurance money is left to get a place to live, and Ethan and I can figure out cheaper options for college.”
 

Which was exactly what I’d been afraid they would try to do. “This is why I didn’t tell you two. You can’t drop out of school now.”

“
Why not?” Ethan scoffed. “You did. You sacrificed everything for us, and now it’s our turn.”
 

“
It’s not. I made those sacrifices so you wouldn’t have to.”
 

“
It’s not fair for you to take it all on yourself, Noelle,” Chris said. “We’re not kids anymore.”
 

“
But you two need college educations to get what you want out of life. I don’t. I’m not going to use that money for something as frivolous—”
 

“
Don’t you dare try to call having a place to live
frivolous
,” Ethan growled.
 

I pressed my eyes closed, racking my brain for anything I could say to convince them they had to stay put, that I would be able to figure it out without them giving up their futures.

“
Where have you been living?” Chris asked after it had been quiet for a few moments. “Tell us you’re at least at a shelter or something. Tell us you’re somewhere safe.”
 

“
I have been,” I hedged.
 

“
Meaning you’re not now,” Ethan said. “Are you on the streets?”
 

With each thing I had to reveal to them, I deflated a little further. I just wanted to crawl back to my park bench and pull the sleeping bag over my head and pretend none of this was happening. This would have all been so much easier if they hadn’t found out. Not yet. Not until I was ready for them to know, once I’d solved all of the problems and could explain it all rationally. “I was last night,” I finally admitted.

“
I’m getting on the first flight—”
 

“
No! You can’t do that, Ethan.” They both still had a few weeks left before finals. I couldn’t let them drop their classes or take Incompletes. “Finish this semester. I’ll figure something out. By the time you are done with finals, I’ll have it all sorted out.”
 

Chris sighed. “Use some of the insurance money, Noelle. Ethan and I can get jobs while we go to school to pay for what that can’t cover. Or maybe we can get better scholarships. We can come up with a solution, but we can’t let you live on the streets.”

“
If I promise I won’t be on the streets, will you two promise to finish out the semester?” I didn’t know what I’d do yet—maybe call Cindy to see if I could still stay on her couch even though the thought of that made me feel like a freeloader—but that didn’t matter right now. I had to get them to see things my way, and then I could worry about the rest.
 

“
Yes,” Chris readily agreed. It had always been easier to convince him to go along with things, so that wasn’t surprising. “But I won’t make any promises about what I’ll do when I get home this summer. We’re a family. That comes first.”
 

“
Okay.” That would give me a few more weeks to get everything resolved. Somehow. “Ethan?” I prodded since he’d been silent, probably seething, for a few minutes. Since Mom and Dad had died, he’d thought it was his responsibility to look after me. I was the older sibling, though. He’d never liked it that I made sacrifices for him, saying it should be the other way around.
 

“
I can fly in today, get you set up in an apartment or something, and then fly back. I’d only miss a day or two of classes.”
 

“
I can do that on my own,” I argued. “I don’t want you to miss any classes.”
 

“
You can do it,” he replied. “But I don’t know that you will. You never put yourself first, Noelle. Maybe it’s time you did.”
 

 

I’d taken to
sending Noelle text messages again in the hope that she had the phone. Because of the iMessage read receipts, even though no one had responded, I knew that someone had been reading them. I didn’t know if it was her or the shelter manager or someone else, but I chose to believe it was Noelle. Maybe that was naive of me. Maybe it was wishful thinking.

I told her that we’d beaten the Sabres three to one at home and guaranteed ourselves a spot in the playoffs, although we didn’t know what seed we would be yet. I told her we had to leave for another road trip, flying across the country to play all three of the New York-based teams. I told her I couldn’t score anymore. I told her that Babs had brought home a puppy that was peeing all over the hardwood floors, and that Rachel and her kids were going to look after him while we were gone. I told her I loved her.

That last one was what I told her most often. It was the only part that really mattered. It was so important that I told her over and over again, even if it could only be through text messages.

I kept checking the balance on my credit card, too, hoping that she’d used it. I’d set up text alerts to let me know if there were any charges, but I didn’t trust the automated system. I just hoped she would use it for something. Anything. I didn’t care if she bought a meal or paid for a night in a hotel or used it to rent an apartment. But no matter how many times I checked, there were no charges posted. She wasn’t using it. Some part of me knew she wouldn’t. She’d made it clear that she didn’t want the help I could give her, but I still wished she would…and before it was a dire need.

Granted, to me, the situation had gone beyond dire the moment I knew she was gone.

After the team arrived in New York, RJ and I had dinner with a few of our former Islanders teammates. I took pictures with the camera on my phone when we headed back to the hotel and sent some of them to Noelle.

When I got up to my room and looked, I knew she’d seen them. That meant she knew where I was and was thinking of her. I didn’t know where she was, but I hoped she was thinking of me, too.

The next day, after we’d had a pre-game meal as a team, my phone beeped. I pulled it out and checked the message immediately. Noelle had sent me a picture of a sofa made up as a bed. She didn’t write anything; there was nothing but the picture.

I didn’t know whose sofa it was, and I didn’t care. The only reason I could think of that she would send me a picture of that was to let me know she had somewhere to stay, a roof over her head. She was warm and safe, and hopefully she was eating.

I could breathe a little more freely, finally, as I sent her a text response.

Thank you,
älskling
. Stay safe.
Jag älskar dig.
I miss you more than you could ever know.
 

She didn’t respond. I hadn’t expected her to.

That night, I got an assist on a goal RJ scored, putting us up two to one over the Rangers. That ended up being the final score, too. I didn’t get a goal, but it was the first point of any kind I’d scored since the day Noelle left.

I sent her a message that night, telling her about it. That I’d gotten that assist because I wasn’t as worried about her. That I hoped she would update me every now and then even if she didn’t want to have the sort of relationship I wanted.

The next day was another game day. We played my former team, the Islanders. I texted Noelle a few times throughout the day, hoping she would respond. She didn’t. I also checked the balance on my credit card. No change.

We lost to the Islanders in overtime that night.

Other than practice in the morning, I had the next day free to spend however I wanted in New York. I ended up walking through some neighborhoods I used to frequent, thinking about my time there with Liv, thinking about all the things I could take Noelle to do and see if she would ever come back to me. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of Reed’s Tattoo shop. They’d done a tat for me before—my wind chimes. I’d gotten it done after Liv died.

I walked inside, and a couple of hours later I walked out with a sun on my shoulder. It looked down over the wind chimes I had on my biceps. It was a bright sun, joyful and full of light and energy and life. It was Noelle as much as the chimes were Liv.

I took a picture of it with my phone when I got back to the hotel and sent it to Noelle.

Jessica Lynch called that afternoon to go over a few last-minute details for the Light the Lamp charity auction with me. The event was only two days away, and we still had another game here, against the Devils, tomorrow. I wouldn’t be there to do anything until the day of the event, but she had it all well in hand. I’d almost forgotten about the fact that it was right around the corner because I was so caught up in worrying about Noelle.

The next day, after our pre-game meal, I got a response from Noelle again. This time it was a picture of her legs stretched out on a blanket of bright-green grass, covered in one of her bright, flowery, flowing skirts. Her feet were bare. I wished I could kiss them.

We beat the Devils in regulation and flew home that night. I had scored another assist in the game, but still no goals. When we landed, there was a text message from Rachel, warning us that potty training the puppy hadn’t been going very well so she couldn’t make any promises about what we might walk into when we got home.

What we walked into was a river of urine running across the dining room floor and an excited puppy racing to greet us. He leaped up, trying to jump into my arms, probably because I was the first one through the door. Babs set to work cleaning up the mess right away, and I grabbed the leash to take the dog down for a quick walk just in case he needed to do anything else.

It was while I was standing outside, waiting for the dog to do his business, that my phone beeped again. It was the middle of the night—almost three a.m.—so I immediately panicked, thinking something horrible had happened to Noelle.

The text wasn’t from her. It was from my credit card company, telling me that she’d used the card—a purchase of $6.48 at some place called Shari’s. I immediately googled Shari’s. They were a twenty-four-hour restaurant. That meant Noelle had eaten something, at least this once.

By the time I put my phone away, the puppy was racing as far as the leash would allow, running in circles, genuinely happy. I let him bounce around for a few minutes before heading back upstairs.

“
Do you have a name for him yet?” I asked Babs when we returned to the apartment.
 

“
I thought I’d let Ellie name him. Tuck thinks we should call him Godzilla.”
 

Only a little boy would come up with a name like that for a tiny puppy. If Noelle never returned, though, this little guy might end up being Godzilla.

I took my phone out one more time and snapped a shot of the puppy. It came out as a blur because Godzilla wouldn’t hold still for even half a second, but even if you couldn’t see his face you could tell he was just a pup. I put it in a text to send to Noelle along with a message.

He needs a name. Can you give him one?

Then I hit “send” and said good night to Babs. Tomorrow was going to be a big day with the silent auction. I needed to at least attempt to sleep.

I went into Noelle’s room again to curl up in her bed, but she’d been gone so long that the sheets no longer smelled like her.