Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
DEREK
“ I think that Valley is going to be a tough team this year.”
“You think so?” Ace asks, rewinding the film we’re watching. “Their QB looks like he’s got some weak spots.”
“But check out their wide receiver.” I point him out. “The way he can get himself open even when he’s going down? Kid is going to go far.”
“We’ll have our job cut out for us this season.”
“You up for it?” I elbow him.
“Just because I’m getting old doesn’t mean I’m not up for it.”
“Old?” I roll my eyes at him. “Please. You’re not old.”
“Between football and hockey, I’m feeling it.”
“You could always cut back on hockey.” I grab the binder from my desk to start reviewing the next set of plays.
“Don’t want me cutting back on football?”
“Can’t lose my best coach.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Ace cracks open a water bottle and kicks his feet up on the desk. His office is cramped, bookshelves filled with old film and playbooks. “How are things going with Missy? ”
“Is it bad I wish she’d flake out again?”
“Really?” This pulls a concerned look from Ace. “I would have thought you wanted things to go well.”
“I mean, they are.” I scrub a hand over my face. “I guess I’m not ready to face the reality that if they keep going well, Missy will get partial custody.”
“Do you think that’s going to happen?”
“Don’t know.”
“Really? You haven’t heard anything from your lawyer?”
“No. And until we go to court, I’m trying to be the good guy.”
Which, since Missy has been showing up these last few weeks, isn’t as much of a strain as I thought. Troy seems to like spending time with her, so really, that’s all I can hope for.
“You’re a better guy than me,” Ace says.
I laugh. “I like that you think that, but I don’t know.”
“Cut yourself some slack. Raising a kid on your own isn’t easy.”
“You’re telling me.”
Troy is about the best kid there is, but it doesn’t mean it’s not hard. I want to give him everything, and a lot of days, I don’t feel like I’m doing that.
Having Sutton around though? Lydia? It feels like the four of us could be a family together. I know Lydia already has a dad, but I wouldn’t mind the title of stepdad.
Things are going well right now. I don’t want to rock the boat if Sutton isn’t on the same page.
“If Missy gets custody, do you think she’ll let Troy keep playing hockey?”
Again, one of the reasons that I’m being selfish in wishing Missy wasn’t around? Not having to worry about someone else’s opinion on how I raise my kid. I’ve gotten used to doing things on my own.
“Honestly? I don’t know. How much say will she get? He loves it and I don’t want to be the one to take it away from him.”
Knowing Troy, he’d eventually get over it. But I don’t want to be the one to have to tell him he can’t play hockey. He only just started and I can see how much he loves it.
It’s how I took to football. I loved it. Sure, I wasn’t the same player I was toward the end of my career, but at his age? I loved playing with my friends.
“Maybe I can train him on the sly if she doesn’t let him.”
I swallow around the sudden lump in my throat. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, but I appreciate it.”
“It’s why I’m here.” Ace stands. “I’m going to go grab some lunch. You want anything?”
“From the cafeteria? I’ll pass.” I laugh.
“That’s a good thing then, because we brought lunch.”
I turn toward Sutton’s voice. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“I had the day off, and since the kids aren’t in school today, I figured we could bring you something to eat.”
“This is a nice surprise.”
“Hi, Daddy. Hi, Ace.” Troy comes in and drops a colorful piece of paper on my desk. “Look what I made you.”
“This is awesome, buddy.” What look like a few sticks are on top of another set of sticks on a blue blob. “Are we ice skating?”
“Yes.” There’s a duh tone in his voice. Not the first time I’ve heard it, and it certainly won’t be the last. “That’s Ace helping us and Lydia is scoring a goal.”
“Because I’m really good,” Lydia tells me.
“I look really good,” Ace says, peering over my shoulder and looking at what is a long, thin blob. I don’t know if it’s him or not, but it’s the right reaction for Troy.
“I gave you a whistle too because coaches have whistles.”
“Thanks, Troy.” Ace grabs it and the tape dispenser from my desk. “We’ll hang it up here so we can see it every day. ”
“Cool.”
Thank you I mouth to him before he waves his exit.
“I hope you have time for a quick picnic?” Sutton asks. A purple blanket with unicorns all over it is draped over her arm.
“For you three? Anything.” I give her a quick peck.
“Do you two want to spread out the blanket?” Sutton asks the kids.
“Yes.” They take the blanket and haphazardly spread it across the floor.
“This is mine from home,” Lydia tells me. “I love unicorns.”
“Maybe we could get you a unicorn on your hockey helmet.”
Her eyes sparkle at my words. “Can I?”
“Why not? I think we can make that happen,” Sutton tells her.
“That’ll be the coolest helmet ever!” Troy agrees.
Sutton sets the bag down between them and they start pulling food out.
“Who would have thought just a few weeks ago that you’d be helping Lydia pick out a hockey helmet?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She swats at my chest before taking a seat. “You were right.”
“Hey.” I hold my hands up in defense as a sandwich is shoved at me. “I never said I was.”
“I can feel it wafting off of you.”
I shake my head at her. “No such thing. I’m happy you’re on board with the kids playing hockey.”
“Do you like turkey?” Lydia asks me, interrupting our conversation.
“Love turkey.”
She beams at me, a spitting image of her mom as the two of them unwrap peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from butcher paper .
I stretch my legs out and lean against the desk as I take a hearty bite of the sandwich.
“Do you think a unicorn could play hockey?” Lydia asks, peanut butter smudged on her face.
“A unicorn playing hockey?” I ask. “Wouldn’t they slide all over the ice on their feet?”
“They have hooves, Daddy.” Again, Troy with the duh tone in his voice.
“Yeah, but can they wear hockey skates with hooves?”
“Maybe they’re special pairs,” Sutton points out. “Instead of a pair, they have four.”
“And they’d be pink and sparkly,” Lydia chirps.
“What if it’s a boy unicorn and he wants black ones?” Troy asks.
“Could they be black sparkles?”
Troy nods at this. “Maybe we can have sparkly skates too when we play.”
Sutton and I exchange a look. It’s hard not to when your kids are talking about the most random things.
This. This is what I want.
A family with Sutton. The four of us. Picnic lunches whenever we want. Spending time together. Taking our kids to Saturday morning hockey practices. Talking about silly things.
Like unicorns playing hockey.