One minute you're at the top of your game, and the next, you receive a hit that knocks your skates out from underneath you.
Still reeling after an unexpected loss, Ryan Nyberg not only finds himself back in his beachside hometown of Neptune Bay, bu...
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Labor Day Weekend. The unofficial end of summer that had Neptune Bay brimming with joy and laughs, and while most years I would've already packed memories of a relaxing summer away as my focus shifted to hockey, this year was different. Yes, training camp had already started, and was going well as the team acclimated to being back while training up the rookies, but there was more on my plate this year.
Family. Responsibilities. Bowen.
It was my first time in town for the holiday weekend in years, and since I'd arrived in town just after dinner on Friday, it'd been non-stop fun in the sun. My parents, Bowen, and I had gone to the town bonfire the first night, which had started with marshmallows roasting on a giant fire and ended with me carrying my exhausted nephew back to the house as he slept against my shoulder. Saturday had been a full-on beach day, with sandcastle building, a canoe adventure, and enough splashing in the waves to wear out even me as the sun bore down on us.
The days passed quickly and soon enough, it was Sunday, and my family and I had ventured down to the hotdog stand for lunch, having decided to end the festivities in a traditional way. Because in just a few short hours, Bowen and I would be leaving.
But before we did, there was one thing I needed to do, and I needed to do it alone.
So, once I'd cleaned up the ketchup that had gotten all over Bowen's face and hands after we'd all finished, I looked over at my parents and said, "Would you mind taking him back to the house for an hour or so?" I asked, digging my hands into my pockets. "There's something I want to do before leaving. Someone I want to see."
My voice didn't give away anything, but it was likely my mom saw something in my eyes that told her all she needed to. "Of course," she replied, offering her hand to her grandson, who took it willingly. "We can take a look and make sure we didn't miss anything while packing." Her gaze fell to Bowen. "You wouldn't want to forget a toy, would you?"
As he shook his head in response, I gave my mom and dad a quick nod in thanks. "I shouldn't be too long."
"Take all the time you need, son," my dad said, likely also having picked up on where I was headed, and he clapped me on the shoulder as the three of them walked away.
I then ventured the other way, down along the beach, mustering up a wave or a quick hello as I passed familiar faces. I passed Wilma's, the larger beach houses that were brimming with tourists, and then the marina. The soft ocean breeze was a welcome feeling as the gravel and sand beneath my feet turned to grass and I turned into the town cemetery, weaving through the gravestones on instinct until I stopped and stood in front of the one that held my brother's name.
Letting out a shaky breath, I could feel my shoulders tense as I fought to find the right words.
"Hey, brother."
The prolonged silence that followed was painful, knowing there'd be no response, but feeling as though I had a lot to get off my chest. And Liam was the only one I wanted to talk to.
