Faking It With The Hockey Star

Chapter 52: Movie Night

Harper’s POV

The smell of burnt popcorn hit me before I even made it to the living room. I stopped in the hallway and laughed. "I don’t even have to ask," I said.

Emma groaned from somewhere inside the kitchen. "Noah!"

"It was an accident!" Noah protested.

"You put it in for seven minutes!"

"I thought more time meant more popcorn!"

I leaned against the doorway just in time to see Emma smack the back of his head with a dish towel. "You almost burned the house down," she said.

"I absolutely did not," he replied.

"The microwave is smoking."

"It was seasoning," Noah said firmly.

Emma stared at him. "Seasoning?"

"I stand by what I said."

Mom’s laughter filled the room. It wasn’t the quiet chuckle she’d been giving us over the last few weeks. It was real. Full. The kind of laugh that made the corners of her eyes wrinkle. "Oh, you two," she said between laughs. "You’ve been arguing since you learned how to speak."

"I wasn’t arguing," Noah defended himself. "I was explaining why I was right."

Emma folded her arms. "And yet somehow, you’re still wrong."

I smiled before I even realized I was doing it. God, I’d missed this. I’d missed hearing laughter in this house. Not forced smiles because we didn’t want Mom to worry. Not pretending everything was okay. Just laughter.

Mom caught me standing there. "What are you doing just watching us?" she asked.

I walked over and wrapped my arms around her shoulders from behind, careful not to bump the walker beside her. "I missed you," I said.

She reached up and squeezed my hand. "I’ve been here all day."

"I know. I still missed you."

She laughed softly before patting my arm. "I’m getting stronger," she said.

"I can see that," I replied.

The walker stood beside her chair like a quiet reminder of how far she’d come. A few weeks ago she could barely stand without help. Now she was walking from the kitchen to the living room on her own. Slowly. Carefully. But she was walking. Justin’s allowance had paid for the walker sitting beside her. The thought made my chest tighten. He’d never once made me feel guilty for accepting his help. Not once.

"Earth to Harper." Emma waved a slice of pizza in front of my face. "You’ve been staring at Mom for a solid minute."

"I was appreciating her," I said.

Mom smiled. "Good answer."

"I’ve learned from experience," I replied.

Emma laughed. "You definitely have."

..

By the time the replacement popcorn was finished, the living room looked like a giant sleepover. Blankets covered the couch. Pillows were scattered across the floor. Pizza boxes sat open on the coffee table. Noah proudly carried the fresh bowl of popcorn into the room. "I have redeemed myself," he announced.

Emma peeked inside. "It’s edible," she said.

"I’ll take that as a compliment," Noah replied.

"You should."

Mom slowly lowered herself onto the couch with Noah hovering beside her like an overprotective bodyguard. "I’ve got you," he said quietly. "I know you do,my sweet boy" she replied.

Once everyone settled in, Noah grabbed the remote. "What are we watching?"

Emma immediately answered. "Not another superhero movie."

"They’re classics," Noah said.

"They’re all the same," Emma countered.Clearly on his tail today

"They are not."

"They literally save the world every single time."

"That’s because they’re superheroes," he said, like this was the most obvious thing in the world.

I shook my head. "You two are impossible."

Mom chuckled. "Let your brother pick this time," she said.

Emma sighed dramatically. "Fine. But next movie night, I choose."

"Deal," Noah said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

Halfway through the movie, Mom looked toward Emma. "So," she said.

Emma looked away from the screen. "So?"

"How’s school?"

Emma smiled. "Busy. But good."

Mom nodded. "And work?"

Emma’s smile widened. "I actually love it."

"You do?" Mom looked genuinely relieved. "I was worried your boss would overwork you."

"No," Emma laughed. "Mrs. Carter is honestly the sweetest person. She owns the coffee shop with her husband. It’s a family business. If I finish my shift early, she lets me stay there and do my assignments before I come home. And she still pays me for my full shift."

Mom blinked. "She does?"

Emma nodded. "She says if I’m going to work for her, then she’s going to help me graduate too."

Mom smiled so brightly it made my heart ache. "There are still good people in this world," she said softly.

"There really are," Emma agreed. "I got lucky."

Mom looked at Noah. "And school?"

He dramatically dropped his head against the back of the couch. "Math is trying to destroy my future," he said.

I laughed. "Math has been trying to destroy your future since sixth grade."

"It has a personal vendetta," he insisted.

Mom chuckled. "You’ll survive."

"I hope so," he muttered.

Then she looked at me. "And the documentary?"

My stomach fluttered. "It’s actually going really well," I said. "We’ve made a lot more progress than I expected. I’m hoping the next few weeks go smoothly."

"They will," Mom said, reaching over and squeezing my hand. "I’m proud of you."

Three simple words. They nearly brought tears to my eyes. "Thanks, Mom," I said quietly.

For a little while, we forgot about everything else. Hospitals. Bills. Arguments. My father. It was just the four of us, eating pizza, watching a movie, laughing whenever Noah made ridiculous commentary that somehow made the scenes funnier than they were supposed to be. I wished the night could stay like this forever.

Then Noah muted the television. The room became quiet. He looked at Mom. "Can I ask you something?" he said.

She smiled. "You just did."

He rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I do," she said. "What is it?"

He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the remote. "Mom," he said slowly, "how did you and Dad meet?"

Everything stopped.

Mom didn’t answer. The smile slowly disappeared from her face. The room that had been filled with laughter only seconds ago felt suddenly too quiet. She looked back at the television. "I don’t think tonight is the night for that story," she said.

Noah frowned. "Why not?"

"It’s in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. You kids should be focused on your futures," she said.

Emma sat up straighter. "I don’t agree," she said gently. Mom looked at her. "We’re not little anymore. We’ve never asked because we thought you weren’t ready. But he came here. He knocked on our door. And then he disappeared again. We deserve to understand."

Mom stayed silent. Emma continued. "We were children when everything happened. We only remember pieces. I don’t want pieces anymore. I want the truth."

Noah nodded. "I do too."

I stayed quiet. Not because I didn’t want to know. I did, more than anything. But saying it out loud somehow felt like betraying Mom.

She looked at each of us one by one. Her eyes lingered on me the longest. "I tried so hard," she whispered, "to make sure you never carried what I carried."

"We know," Emma said softly, reaching across the couch and taking her hand. "But carrying questions isn’t any easier."

A tear slipped down Mom’s cheek. She quickly wiped it away. Then she took a long, shaky breath. Another. When she finally spoke, her voice was so quiet we all leaned in to hear her.

"He wasn’t always like this," she said.

The room fell completely silent. No one dared say another word.