34. Jack
34
JACK
A few weeks later
“A nd Daddy was so fast on the ice. When he hit the puck and it whooshed all the way down to Mr. Des, it was so cool,” June says.
“I think the puck went faster than the speed of sound…” Annabelle squeals.
It’s been a few weeks since the Sourwood Cup, and June and Annabelle are still talking about their first hockey game. They each have a million questions about the sport. How long does it take us to put on all of our hockey padding? What if we have to go to the bathroom during a game? Do all players usually kiss at the end of a game like their Dad and me?
Earlier today at their tea party birthday, they bragged to all their friends about watching their dad play hockey. Isabella H. was impressed. Isabella J., not so much.
“Your dad is quite the hockey player,” I tell them inside their ice castle tree house.
Because the tea party place had limited capacity, Griffin decided to throw an afterparty in his background that doubles as an official treehouse-warming. Players from the Comebacks mingle around the backyard, some with kids. I can now put names to hockey jerseys.
“Are you and my dad going to get married?” Annabelle asks as she straightens up inside the treehouse.
Shit. Kids have no filter and no segue.
“Yeah.” June crosses her arms. “What are your intentions with our father?”
“I, uh…what a question.” I break into a nervous laugh. “I mean, we haven’t really discussed anything.”
Is it hot in this treehouse? Am I allergic to wood? Is that why I’m starting to itch?
“Girls.” Griffin calls from the ground. “Stop interrogating Jack.”
“We’re just having a conversation.” June sits on the beanbag chair we moved up there. She crosses her legs like a power lawyer in the middle of a high-stakes negotiation.
“I’m going to check on my friends.” I scurry down the ladder and collapse into Griffin’s arms with relief.
“You okay there?”
“Your daughters are lovely, but they also scare me,” I whisper.
“Well, what are your intentions with me?” Griffin arches his right eyebrow as he curls his arms tighter around my waist. If he were a cocoon, I’d never want to become a butterfly.
“I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” I tilt my head up and give him a kiss.
The truth is, we haven’t had any discussions about the state of things. We’ve been spending time together, having sleepovers, hanging with his daughters. I’ve been researching careers as well as looking into going to college. It’s a bit overwhelming. To pay the bills, Marcy has let me work at Summers Rink, cleaning up and helping her with administrative tasks. Being with Griffin is one area of my life where I’m living in the present. I don’t see things ending anytime soon. For now, I’m enjoying the ride. As long as I get to spend time with Griffin, and he lets me see him naked on a regular basis, then all is good. Griffin makes me feel like everything will be okay, and that feeling is more powerful than a label.
Griffin leans in, a hesitant crease in his forehead. “Hey, so I bumped into your dad when I went to Ferguson’s the other day. I didn’t mention the party, but if you wanted to invite him…there’re a lot of people here…”
“So we won’t make a scene?” Sadly, Griffin knows us well. “Are you guys friends now?”
“No. But I can make an effort if you’re making an effort.”
My chest tightens for a moment. Since Dad showed up at the Sourwood Cup, our relationship has been slowly thawing. Very slowly. It’s hard to forget the years of him being an asshole. Showing up at one game and telling me I played well doesn’t wash the past away. It isn’t like Ted Gross magically transformed. We’re both taking baby steps toward a normal relationship. It’s going to take a while.
“I’ll see him another time,” I say quietly.
“Yeah. Of course. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Griffin rubs my shoulders, trying to get us back into the party mood.
“Hello!” Derek and his teenage daughter Jolene stroll up to us, a perfect diversion.
“What’s going on!” I pull Derek into a bear hug.
Behind them, a man in a bright red button-down shirt furiously texts on his phone with one hand while carrying an iced coffee in the other.
“Hey, buddy!” Griffin gives him a hug.
“I have some time before I head to the firehouse for my shift, so I wanted to stop by.” Derek hands over two wrapped gifts. Griffin ferries them to the table with the other presents. The girls have gotten a nice bounty.
“This is my boyfriend Cary.” Derek whacks him on the shoulder to get him off his phone.
“Hi! Sorry!” Cary instantly springs to attention. “It’s so nice to meet you. Sorry I wasn’t at the Sourwood Cup. Sunday is a big open house day, so I was running around like a chicken that had snorted cocaine before having their head cut off.”
I try to picture that visual, and the manic energy seems on point for Cary.
Cary turns to Jolene. “That analogy was in no way an endorsement of cocaine. I’ve never done cocaine, for the record. But from what I hear about cocaine…”
Derek gently tips the iced coffee up to Cary’s lips, unfazed by his boyfriend’s word vomit. Cary gives him an appreciative look.
“I got the girls a telescope,” Jolene says, tucking her bright red hair behind her ears. “The treehouse is a great place for stargazing.”
“They’ll love it,” I say. It’s amazing that Annabelle and June will be this big and this mature in only a few years.
Cary’s phone buzzes. He tries to ignore it, but the pull is too strong. “Sorry. I’m not a workaholic. I just really, really love my job.”
“He’s very good at his job,” Derek adds.
“Oh my God.” Cary throws a hand to his chest with a hearty gay gasp. “I got an offer on this farmhouse I’ve been trying to sell forever. Freaking finally.” He has Derek hold his drink while his thumbs peck away at the screen. His gleeful smile reminds me of charging to the net in games, arcing my stick back with the knowledge that I was totally going to score.
“I’m going to check out the snacks,” Jolene says.
“Bye lady.” Cary blows her a kiss as she goes. “And remember what I said about not doing cocaine.”
She tips her head, as confused as I am about how to respond to that. She lands on a thumbs up and runs off. If Cary can be a parental figure to Jolene, then maybe I have a shot at being a good one to Griffin’s girls.
“One second.” Cary jumps back on his phone. “I have one other person mildly interested. I’m going to let her know about the offer and see if I can generate a little bidding war. And…there.” He cackles a maniacal laugh and tucks his phone in his back pocket. “So when you’re not playing hockey, what do you do?”
“I’m figuring that out. I’m looking into college.” I shrug.
“To study what?”
“I’m not sure.” My plan quickly unravels in my mind upon scrutiny.
“Have you ever thought of being a real estate agent?” Cary slurps some of the final remnants of his coffee from the clutches of the ice cubes.
“You think everyone should be a real estate agent,” says Derek.
“Not everyone. But I think Jack could be a good fit.”
“You just met him.”
“Let the man talk, Derek,” I say, suddenly very intrigued by Cary’s confidence in his assessment.
“There are a few former athletes in my office, and they love it! It’s a good transition for them because they’re not chained to a desk, and sales lets you be competitive for a living. You don’t need a degree. You have to get licensed, which takes a few months and at a fraction of the cost of a college tuition.”
“Huh.” I hadn’t considered being a real estate agent, but I love competing. Cary seems to be having more fun with his job than anyone else I know. Plus the thought of sitting in a classroom for the next few years doesn’t set my world on fire.
“If you do well, you can make really good money. You seem like a schmoozer, too. I get a flirt vibe from you.” Cary takes a business card from his wallet and hands it over. “My partner and I have an opening on our team for a trainee agent. Our last one was great, but then her grandmother died and left her everything , so she moved to Mykonos to be a lifestyle influencer.”
“Nice work if you can get it,” I say.
“Tell me about it.” Cary slurps the last drops from his coffee, persevering until he sucks down every last drop. “I tried the college thing, and it wasn’t a fit for me. I’m so glad I found real estate. Listen, college doesn’t start up until the fall. You have a few months. Be my trainee, and if you’re not feeling it, then you can go to school.”
“I think I’m sold,” Derek says.
“Me too.” For the first time in my job hunt, I feel excited about something. I picture myself using my charm to sell houses and creating bidding wars. It’s worth a shot. Like Cary says, if I don’t like it, college will always be there. I stand on my tiptoes, feeling downright giddy. Cary really is a good salesman.
“Why don’t you swing by the office on Tuesday, and we can talk more?”
“Sounds great. I’ll stop by Starbucks and pick up coffee for us.”
I must have asked if I could murder Derek’s daughter by the way Cary reacts. Derek puts a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
“He doesn’t know,” Derek whispers to his boyfriend.
“Starbucks is warmed-over toilet water. I have so much to teach you.” Cary shakes his head but eventually breaks into a smile. He’s a character, dancing on the edge of crazy. “We’re going to mingle. Great meeting you, Jack.”
I shake hands with him and Derek.
Cary turns to Derek. “I need to find your teammate with the nice ass who likes martinis. I want to get the inside scoop on his condo complex. I heard a unit is coming on the market.”
“Des?” Derek asks as they walk off. “You think Des has a nice ass?”
“You don’t?”
They trail off, back to their friends. I amble through the party, saying hi to old friends and new friends. My life in Sourwood was solitary and quiet, but now it’s full of people and noise that enriches my soul.
I stroll over to Miller and Fuentes playing bocce ball in a corner of the backyard.
“MOTHER—”
Fuentes clamps a hand over Miller’s mouth to keep him from finishing his expletive. Holding it back only makes his face get more tomato-like.
“You knocked my ball away!” Miller seethes.
“That’s the point of the game.” Fuentes massages his shoulder to calm him down. “Reminder: we are at a children’s birthday party.”
Miller pinches the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes. “I am in a field of daisies. I am in a field of daisies. I am in a field of daisies.”
I look down at our feet. “I think these are dandelions.”
Miller sucks in a breath so all-encompassing, his lungs might explode.
I pull Fuentes aside for a moment. “Hey, I want to thank you again for being cool with the rent. I’m going to start paying it this month now that I’m working at Summers Rink.”
“It’s all good, man. No rush.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m paying rent this month. And I’m going to repay you for the months that I missed, and that’s that.” I don’t know what I did to deserve such good friends. I’ve overdrafted from the favor bank, though. I need to restore the balance.
“Cake time!” Carmen yells.
She and Griffin bring out the cakes. Both cakes have pictures of Elsa on them, presumably to avoid any fighting. I can’t get enough of watching Griffin in dad mode. The girls run over. They cram onto his lap.
His love for his daughters makes me love him even more. I used to think it wasn’t worth getting close to anyone, but there are a few select people in this world that make it worth the risk.
Everyone gathers around to sing “Happy Birthday.”
“Make a wish,” Griffin says to his daughters.
The girls close their eyes and blow. I don’t need to make a wish. I may not be a professional hockey player living in a mansion, but it seems all of my wishes still came true.