Chapter 12
Maddie
The house is quiet and I take advantage of Grayce sleeping in her crib for her afternoon nap, having dozed off in my arms after a dose of pain reliever. She doesn’t seem to be getting worse, so I’m hopeful this will resolve on its own.
I settle back on the couch, kick my feet up on the coffee table, and open my laptop. I’ve got work to do and it’s important, so I use this precious time to dive in. Atlas is at the arena for the second game in the playoffs, and I have what might be a few hours of productivity before me.
It’s true I had to leave my job without giving them any notice, but I didn’t abandon my kids.
I worked out a deal with my boss to let me review each file and provide an up-to-date summary of the case status.
Then after each one was done, I forwarded it to the new caseworker, along with my cell phone number, so they could call me at any time with questions.
So far, a few of them have taken me up on it and it’s been nice being able to stay a little connected.
It takes me a bit to get into the swing of things, mostly because I’m tired.
I’ve been tired for months between caring for Gray in my downtime, as well as Grayce.
Moving to Pittsburgh and trying to acclimate is causing its own share of sleepless nights.
I wish I could use this free moment to nap myself, but sleep feels impossibly decadent.
Even as I’m going through one of my case files—a young girl who reminds me a lot of myself—my brain runs in continuous loops.
Between listing therapy recommendations for the foster kid, I run through lists of what Grayce needs, what I need to do to accomplish those things, and what the future might look like.
At night when I finally rest my head on my pillow, these loops continue and sometimes sleep takes hours to achieve.
A knock on the front door jerks me out of the spiral. I frown because we’re not expecting any deliveries that I know of, and I don’t know anyone here. I consider ignoring it, but this isn’t my house and it’s plausible that it’s a neighbor or a friend of Atlas’s.
Setting my laptop aside, I leave the plush comfort of the couch and pad across the hardwood floors to the front door.
It’s solid, but there are two vertical panes of glass, one on each side, and I lean to peek through.
I’m stunned to see Winnie waving like she’s arriving for a playdate.
She’s in dark jeans and an oversized Titans sweatshirt, her hair in a topknot that somehow looks chic instead of frazzled.
She’s balancing a tote bag on one hip and a cardboard bakery box in her hands.
When I open the door, she beams at me. “I come bearing reinforcements.”
“Um… Atlas isn’t here. He’s at the arena.”
Winnie rolls her eyes and tilts the bakery box side to side to draw my eye there. “I know that, silly. So’s Lucky, and I’m here. What better time to enjoy chocolate croissants and lemon muffins? Please don’t make me eat them all myself.”
The buttery smell sneaks past me before I can even answer. “You didn’t have to do that,” I say, because my reflex is always to refuse any sort of humanity.
“Sure I did,” she chirps, breezing inside like she’s lived here for years. “You’ve officially been initiated into the Titans family. We do baked goods and unsolicited advice. Where’s Grayce?”
“Asleep,” I say, as I watch Winnie head into the kitchen, tiptoeing as if her footsteps might carry through the walls. I shut the door and follow behind.
She sets the box on the counter and pulls out two mugs from the cabinet. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Coffee,” I admit. “Black.”
As she readies the pot, she rambles on, assuming I’m listening. “I just got off work about an hour ago and I have to be at the arena by seven, but that left me plenty of time to squeeze in a visit with you.” She looks over her shoulder. “You don’t mind, do you?”
I’m the type who would totally mind the unannounced intrusion into the few precious hours I have to myself, but something about Winnie charms me. “No, I don’t mind at all.”
“Excellent.” She beams. “Put the pastries on the table and start in on them.”
I chew on one of the chocolate croissants—it’s so good, I don’t know how I’m going to pass up having a second. I reason that I didn’t eat lunch today, so I can afford the calories. I’m starting on my second by the time Winnie comes to the table with coffee.
“Thank you,” I say and take a sip while it’s hot. When I set the mug down, I give her a sheepish grin. “I don’t drink hot liquids around Grayce, so I can’t remember the last time I had hot coffee straight from the brew.”
Winnie laughs, reaching for a muffin. “Then I’m extra glad I came by before the game.”
“Do you go to all of Lucky’s games?”
She nods, her eyes lighting up. “All the home games since we’ve been dating. He wants me to come to some of the away games, but I can’t swing it with work. Want to know how Lucky and I met?”
I blink, thrown by the sudden change. The twinkle in her eye intrigues me. “Um… yeah.”
Her grin widens. “A TikTok challenge. I was looking to date someone solid and ordinary, so I issued a challenge and he accepted.”
“But I’d argue he’s not ordinary,” I point out. “Just by the fact he’s a professional athlete.”
“You’re not kidding. He’s the least ordinary person I know and for that reason, I didn’t want to continue to date him after I found out he was a hockey player. But he persisted, so I kept at it.”
“Sounds like a fairy tale.”
Winnie snorts. “Not really. We sort of publicized the experiment and the comments were brutal at times. My self-esteem took a big hit.”
“Oh my God,” I say, reaching a hand out to touch her arm. “That’s awful.”
“It was, but Lucky made me want to push through that so I could get to the happily ever after with him. So don’t tell me fate doesn’t work in weird ways.”
I shake my head, but I can’t help the laugh that escapes. “That’s… actually kind of sweet. Terrifying, but sweet.”
“See? Sometimes the crazy risks we take pay off.” She taps the table with one perfectly shaped nail painted with only clear polish. “Anyway, the girls can’t wait to meet you. Mila, Tempe, Farren, Mazzy, Willa—they’ve all been texting me. You’re going to love them.”
“Wait!” My brows draw together. “Why would they want to meet me? And who are these women?”
She gives me a look that’s both exasperated and amused. “They’re some of the players’ significant others and they want to meet you because you’re part of this now.”
“I am not Atlas’s significant other,” I say, almost indignantly.
Winnie laughs. “Relax. You’re part of the Titans family because you are the co-parent to Atlas’s daughter. Which is so weird to say. I mean… two weeks ago, he was childless. Is daughter the right word?”
“It’s the right word,” I assure her, remembering what the nurse told us.
Mom. Dad. Daughter.
“And that means you’re family. So, of course everyone wants to meet you. I mean, there are other women too, but Mila and all are the ones I’m closest to and know the best. Oh, and Brienne will want to meet you too.”
“Brienne? As in the owner, Brienne?”
“Yes!” Winnie beams at me. “She’s amazing and not as intimidating as I thought she’d be. She takes such good care of her players and those who are important to them.”
Again, I doubt this applies to me. I’m not important to Atlas at all.
Winnie continues with barely a pause. “I’m thinking maybe we can all get together for brunch, because we’re allowed to drink mimosas at brunch. But it will have to be a day Atlas has off since he’ll watch Grayce.”
Suddenly, all of this feels wrong. There’s no world that I live in where I’d ask Atlas to help with Grayce so I could go drink mimosas, and moreover, I don’t do girlfriends.
I never have, mainly because growing up in the foster system, girls are downright mean.
The guys were sleazy, but the girls were the biggest bullies.
I fumble for a gentle response to decrease her expectations. “I’m not sure that’s going to work. Brunch isn’t really my thing. Or mimosas, for that matter.”
It’s a lame excuse and Winnie stares at me, her eyes boring deep. She tilts her head, reading me too easily. “You don’t have a lot of friends, do you?”
It should sting less than it does. “No, but I don’t feel I’m missing out on anything.”
“You’re completely missing out,” she says, her voice softening. “Atlas says Gray was your best friend. I know his passing must’ve left a huge hole in your heart.”
“He was my only friend, really.” The admission tastes bitter and shameful at the same time.
“Why’s that?”
I stare at the mug, watching the steam curl. I could deflect, but Winnie’s warmth makes lying feel pointless. “Because I don’t open myself up to that experience. I learned early not to count on people.”
Winnie’s expression hardens. “Who taught you such nonsense?”
“Foster care teaches you that,” I reply bluntly, not to shock her but because it’s the reason I am the way I am. “You’re constantly moving. New house, new rules, new faces. Nothing stays the same. You learn to avoid attachment so you can’t be let down or hurt.”
Winnie’s eyes shine but I don’t see pity, which I appreciate. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry that’s how you grew up.” She sips her coffee, then sets it down. “But Maddie, you’re not in foster care anymore. You don’t have to do it alone.”
I bristle. “I’ve managed just fine by myself.”
“Sure. But it’s always easier with help.” She leans closer, earnest. “Atlas is solid. He’s stubborn as hell, but he means what he says. And the Titans family? We show up. We’ll show up for you too.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand why. I’m not part of the team.”
“Grayce is,” Winnie counters gently. “That makes you part of it, whether you like it or not. You don’t have to buy the merch or memorize stats. You just have to let us in a little.”
I swallow hard, because the idea of letting anyone in both tempts and terrifies me. “I’ll… think about it.”