Chapter 7
ASHER
That was a brutal loss. I mean, we still got a point for the standings because we went into overtime, but I hate the coach from the other team.
He wastes all of our time calling out to the referee for every single damn push on the ice and then complains in press conferences about the tactics of my defensemen.
My cold reception to our guys in the locker room after the game probably wasn’t warranted, but I had aggression to get out, and it had nothing to do with them, unfortunately.
Maybe it was my own personal meltdown. But my demeanor softened for a second when our goalie showed his phone to the team, with the screen filled with photos of his seven-month-old and his face covered with sweet potato while he wore a ridiculous little turkey hat.
Needless to say, I went quiet, and maybe it was too eerie for the team, because Tyler broke my daze and asked if I was okay.
I’m entering the same daze again as I sit on a bench on Main Street in Everhope.
The windows decorated in holiday decorations are in an odd way calming.
The little boy crossing the street holding his mom’s hand while she carries shopping bags in the other reminds me of why I’m sitting here with a coffee in hand and waiting for Gracie.
I’m well aware that I will not be receiving any awards for my reaction the other day. I’ve thought about this on so many levels. I’m a man of strong integrity and character. I’m going to take responsibility, whatever Gracie chooses.
But a baby isn’t a career. It’s a whole new realm that I’m not familiar with.
I also can’t be the guy who gives money and stands at a distance, seeing their child once a year.
I’m probably not the typical candidate for father of the year, but in hockey and in life, there is always a wild card thrown at you.
Maybe I could even become father of the year.
If I’m as determined to do well with that role as I am being a coach, then I could put the same effort into being a damn good dad.
However, for once, I’m not a pro at something.
I’m back to being a rookie, except I really can’t fuck up this game because it isn’t one at all; it's a baby.
It's nerve-wracking as hell, but it keeps repeating in my head what to do. A shiver runs through me, because despite the lack of snow, Illinois is still freezing this time of year.
Taking a sip of my coffee, my eyes flick up when I see Gracie approaching, and my heartrate speeds up because here we are a few days later to talk. She slows her arrival and tightens her maroon-colored scarf around her neck over her gray coat.
“Is this seat taken?” Her smile is weak, and she must be nervous too.
I scoot over to make room. “No, it was waiting for you.”
She sits down, and we both look forward and sit in silence. How the hell do we begin this conversation?
“Foxy Rox put a train in the window among fake snow,” I comment, and I guess that’s how we are starting.
“I noticed.” She begins to make a noise. “Speaking of coffee, is that coffee that you are drinking?” She visibly swallows then covers her mouth.
“Yes.” My face contorts because I’m a little lost.
She presses her fingers against her lips. “Yeah, the smell makes me want to vomit.”
Huh… oh, wait.
“Noted.” I stand and quickly jog to discard the drink in the trash can by the newspaper box on the corner that nobody uses anymore, then return to Gracie. “Morning sickness?”
She tilts her head to the side. “Something like that.” Her sight remains razored to the ground.
I guess this is a good entry point into the serious conversation that we need to have. “Look, Grac—”
“I’m keeping the baby.” She blurts out her interruption then turns her head to face me, her eyes heavy, but there is a glint of delicate tenacity. Maybe she wants to see my reaction.
The breath that I take feels heavy but right. “We’re doing this.”
“Is that what you want?” She sounds a little doubtful.
I nod subtly. “Yeah. I’m in this.”
It’s obvious that her body is flooding with relief. “Okay… Not going to lie, I was hoping you would say that. I’ve been freaking out for a few days now.”
I can’t help but chuff a laugh. “Yeah, freaking out might be an understatement.” We both share that.
A small smile begins to creep onto her face that has radiance that was missing the other day.
“I’ve been walking around a lot to think.
Did you know the park has reindeer right now?
I’m not sure they are really happy since they are in a kind of pen, but an elf feeds them hay and kids watch.
” I grimace at her because she’s rambling, and she shakes her head when she realizes.
“Anyhow, on my walks I just kept thinking only one thing… I want this. Completely not planned, but no other thought has entered my brain.”
Placing my hand on her thigh to help assure her, I feel the side of my mouth stretch. “I can relate. I needed to adjust to the news. Becoming a dad most definitely was not on my bingo card for the year—or two or five. But apparently, the universe wants this to happen now.”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
“Me neither. I’m not exactly sure what happens now.”
She shrugs. “Neither do I, but maybe we’ll wait to tell anyone. It’s early, and everyone is occupied with the holidays anyhow.”
“Agreed. Don’t you need to see a doctor?”
She adjusts her scarf again. “Not yet. Those tests are very accurate these days, especially when you take eight. I’ll call the doctor’s office tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good… good, good.” I grow quiet, and my fingers thrum on her leg. She touches my wrist, and the tiny smirk on her face is because she’s maybe amused by me.
“We can figure out other things as we go. We have time. I mean, biology says probably thirty-four weeks, but…” She throws her arms in the air. “Who’s counting?”
“The baby is your belly probably is,” I reply dryly.
We both seem to be relaxing. We’re attempting humor, and that’s a start.
I shift on the bench and blow out a whistle. “Your dad is going to kill me.”
“He might.” Her face turns serious before then she bursts out laughing. “Your parents? What will they think?”
Scratching the back of my head, I think about it for a second. It hasn't crossed my mind since I’m an adult. Lucky for me they are them, warm and always accepting. “Surprised but pretty relaxed. Ignore my mom if she asks if she can take photos during labor, she sometimes forgets boundaries.”
Her forehead creases. “As in during labor?”
“She’s a photographer and loves finding new subjects.”
She laughs, and it’s good to see a glow returning to her face. “Duly noted. My mom will probably be thrilled. She was pregnant with me before they got married. Actually, my dad arranged a judge to marry them the following week and didn’t tell my mom.”
My eyes bug out. “Whoa, ballsy…” And traditional. Which kind of brings on the other thought that has been dancing in my head… Gracie and I. “Speaking of which, uh…” There is strain in my voice.
Her hand rushes to touch my arm to calm me. “Oh my God, I didn’t bring that up because I think we should… you know… No. We don’t need to… Blah, I am not sure what I’m saying, but you don’t need to marry me or something like that. We don’t know one another that well.”
A flood of relief escapes. “Phew, I was a little worried there.”
She smiles wryly. “We’ll have to get to know one another, I’m the mom and you’re the dad.”
“That is how biology works, yes.” I extend my hand, offering a handshake. Her eyes squinch at my gesture, but then it vanishes when she takes my hand. Her touch gives me an instant zing. “Hi, I’m Asher Tate, the father of your child.”
She doesn’t let my hand go and grants me an easy smile. “Hi, I’m Gracie Arrows, the mother of your child.”
Our eyes are tied just like a ribbon on a Christmas present. Maybe one day I’ll figure out if Gracie is the present that my life needed.
Stopping myself from thinking further, I release her hand and feel the absence immediately.
Still, I manage to snicker a laugh. “Oh man, this is going to be an adventure, isn’t it?
” This woman gets me to smile more times than I can count for a conversation that is probably the most serious one of my life.
She sinks back and rests against the bench. “I guess it is.”
“I’m sorry if I’m not around as much as I would like. We are about to head into mid-season. I’m not sure how to balance this.”
Her mouth slides side to side. “Players and coaches have done it before. So can you. I’m also aware that your schedule in all honesty is shit. But I’m not new to it. My dad was a coach when I was a kid.”
I chuckle under my breath. “No more mention of your dad because it freaks me out.”
“I shouldn’t tell you that he has access to farm tools because my brother works at the Blisswood Winery.” She’s messing with me again and taking pleasure in that.
“Small world. My parents used to go there all the time for their romantic weekend getaways. It was perfect for me because I was able to throw some epic parties when I was in high school.”
She sputters a laugh. “Crossing my fingers that this kid isn’t a troublemaker.”
“He or she will, of course, be in skates as soon as they can walk.”
Her smile doesn’t wilt in the slightest. “I could be on board with that.”
Our vision connects, and a quiet overcomes us. Only the sound of Christmas carols in the distance somewhere fills our ears. This is us agreeing with our eyes that our fate has been changed, and we will embark on this road together.
“Well… maybe you want to go for a walk?” she suggests.
“Yeah, sure.”
“That’s good, because I would kind of like the blueberry muffin from Foxy Rox, and I can’t go in there because of the coffee smell, so really I’m just going to use you right now.”
I grin and stand then offer her my hand. Her delicate fingers plant on my palm, the mere touch a spark, but I ignore it. Gripping her hand, I yank her up. “I can accept that.”
A few minutes later, I emerge from the coffee shop, and she is busy scrolling on her phone but slides it into her bag when she sees me.
“Here you are.” I hand her the muffin, which she grabs with gusto and fishes into the paper bag.
“My hero,” she gushes before taking a giant bite of the muffin. “I didn’t realize that I was so hungry.”
I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Do you want me to go back and get something else?”
She shakes her head only to lose a little balance, and I’m quick to sweep her arm up to steady her. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little dizzy, I guess.”
I look up and down the street and nobody takes notice of us. It had slipped my mind that rumors could fly; we’ll need to tamp those down for a while. “How about we get you home. A little rest.”
“Okay.”
Luckily, she doesn’t live too far and walked here. Her apartment is cute, but we’ll need more space when the baby comes.
It seems that I’m already assuming we are going to live together.
I have no time to contemplate that, as I need to focus on steadying Gracie.
Back at her place, we both take our coats off, and I help as she walks to her bedroom then crawls into bed and curls up on her side, pulling the duvet tight.
This is how the other night ended, except I left.
“Want me to get you something? Water?”
“Nah,” she mumbles then yawns. “I’m just tired.”
“Sure.” I’m about to step away, but her hand darts out to grab my wrist, and my eyes slide down because her touch is calming right now. “Want me to stay?” That is the instant thought that comes to mind.
“Yeah. Just for a little. I don’t want to be alone.”
Without hesitation, I crawl onto the bed and rest on my side behind her. Natural as the air I breathe, I wrap my arms around her. She pulls my arm tighter around her body, and I hear her sleepy sigh.
It’s late afternoon, but I can stay even if I don’t rest. “I’ll be gone when you wake up purely because we have 7am practice tomorrow and my spare clothes are at home. Sleep.”
“Yes, Coach,” she replies drowsily.
The corners of my mouth tug because the way she says it shoots a different feeling through me. It sounds a hell of a lot better when she calls me that, as opposed to the guys on the team.
“You listen. Good.”
She glances over her shoulder and shoots me a glare. “You know that already. That’s what put a baby inside of me.” She flops her head back down.
I sputter a laugh under my breath.
It’s true. She obeys well. But I have a feeling that I’ll be following her cues more in the coming months.
Because she has cast a spell over me, my eyes begin to close, because apparently, I’m getting more comfortable than I planned for today.
That’s good because I forgot that we have team holiday photos tomorrow, and I fucking hate ugly Christmas sweaters.
And if sweaters are my biggest worry right now, then it means everything else is promising.