CHAPTER EIGHT
Aspen
In need of space and some peace and quiet, I lay down on one of my old quilts in the backyard, staring at the starless night sky. It’s late, and the dew is starting to settle on the grass, making my quilt damp. The cadences of the crickets and locusts that I would hear in Oklahoma are replaced by cars driving down the road outside our estate here in New York. There’s rustling in the yard. I sit up, looking around. A tall, dark figure stalks towards me. Unable to see the face of the trespasser, I’m frozen in fear until I hear his voice.
“I hope I didn’t startle you. The lights were on, so I knocked on your door. River said you were back here looking at the stars. I think I woke her up.”
I stay silent and peer up at him.
“You know there’s too much light pollution to actually see the stars here?”He kicks the toe of his shoe against the ground.
I look up at the sky, then lay back down. “I know, but I can pretend.” I sigh.
Cal sits down beside me on the blanket. Silence surrounds us, but it’s not uncomfortable.
“I came to apologize.”
“Hmm. About what?”
“The media, the wreck, my attitude…I’ve not been the most pleasant person to deal with.” He looks up into the black abyss.
“Are you apologizing because you truly feel bad or because I’m your boss and you’re scared shitless to be traded?”
He scratches the back of his neck and chuckles under his breath. “Both?”
“Hmm.”
I wouldn’t trade him. I wouldn’t abuse my power like that. I hope he knows I was teasing. I’m pretty sure that he does . . .
He laughs. “I’m the best center in the league.” Then he adds, as if he were reading my mind, “I’m not worried about you trading me.”
“Humble too,” I volley back.
Maybe I’m a masochist, or maybe I need validation, but I ask anyway.
“I don’t know why I’m asking you this. I guess I just really need to know. Did you mean what you said in the bookstore the other day about no one wanting me?”
His brows furrow. “What? Jesus, no Aspen! That’s what we do. We talk shit. We get under each other’s skin and piss each other off . . .” He trails off and lies down next to me. We turn our heads to face each other. Our eyes meet, and mine burn with unshed tears.
“When I was a little girl, I would lie in the pasture alone, sometimes for so long I would fall asleep there. God, I was so stupid . . .” I huff a breath.
“What? Why would you think that?”
“Because I would lie there and try to wish on every single star in the sky that my dad would come find me. That he would want to know me . . .” I whisper as his eyes map my face. I turn my head back to the sky, not wanting him to see my tears, and continue, “You probably don’t know this, but I didn’t even know who he was or that he owned a pro hockey team until the attorney called me to tell me my father passed away from a massive heart attack. How messed up is that? Of course, then I found out he had been supporting me with his money all my life, and my mom never said a word. She acted as if she took care of me on her own. I just wanted his time, Cal. He gave his time to everyone but me. My entire life I thought he was a dead-beat dad, but in reality he and my mom kept this big secret. They kept me a secret.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, then tucks his hand behind his head. “Did you ever find out why?”
“My mom said they did it to give me a sense of normalcy. After Friday, I could possibly understand why, but that doesn’t erase the abandonment I’ve felt my entire life. What’s worse is the abandonment didn’t stop there . . . oh no, I had to pass that little generational bondage down to my kid . . .” He waits for me to gather myself to continue. “Tucker is my whole life. I don’t ever want him to feel how I’ve felt: unwanted and unloved.”
“I don’t think he feels that way, Aspen. I mean, look at him; he’s happy and thriving.” Cal laughs, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a kid with such a big personality.”
“He does have that.” I chuckle, then sigh, playing with the ends of my hair, “No thanks to his father. Jason and I started dating right after I turned sixteen.” I release a self-deprecating laugh. God, how freaking na?ve was I.
“The whole thing was so cliché. I was a cheerleader; Jason was the quarterback and team captain. We dated almost a year, and I held out for a long time, but he was about to go off to college, and I thought I loved him; I thought he loved me. I had no idea he was about to break up with me. I found out the summer after my sophomore year, right before he left, that I was pregnant. He said he wasn’t ready to be a dad, and didn’t want to be tied down to me when he was about to start his new life. We broke up, and once Tucker was born and the DNA test came back, he just signed over his rights. Like, it was so fucking easy.”
“Fucker.” He breathes.
“When he moved back to town three months ago, with his sweet new family, I might add, I knew it would only be a matter of time before Tucker found out who his biological father was. I didn’t want him to feel the abandonment on that level. Can you imagine watching your dad play with his other kids while you’re sitting on the sidelines or watching from the window of your own home—the rejection and self-esteem issues that come along with that?” I shake my head. “So, when I got the phone call from the attorney, I didn’t waste any time moving to here.”
“You’re a good mom.”
I smile thinking of Tucker. “I try to be.”
I turn my head back to him. “I haven’t dated since Jason. I’ve been too busy being a mom and working on my master’s degree. I had to grow up fast. When I was twenty and in college, the guys my age weren’t looking for the same things I was. Sure, they would be glad to sleep with me, but to connect on a deeper level? No. They were all about hitting it and quitting it. That’s not what I want. That’s not me. Men who are worth a damn just don’t pursue me. So, as you can imagine, your comment cut deep, but you weren’t wrong. I mean, if my own father left me, and my kid’s father left him so he didn’t have to deal with me, then who else would want to stick around? Not to mention, most men don’t want a single mom, and now that I’m getting older . . . you know, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this.”
Of all the people I could unload on, why am I unloading on the one person who can use it as ammunition against me? I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess. When he looks at me, I can see the remorse in his expression.
“I . . .” He hesitates before finally speaking, “I’m really sorry I said that. I was just being an ass. But you have to know, I don’t think that you’re undesirable or that no one wants you. And about the single mom thing: boys don’t want a single mom, but a man will look at Tucker and see him as a bonus. The right man will want you, Aspen, and the right man will want him. That kid is so incredible, and so is his mom.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I just think you haven’t met a man who can handle your ass yet.” He chuckles. “He’s going to have his hands full, whoever he is, that’s for damn sure. But yeah, anyone who single-handedly raises a kid to be as great as him,” he points to the house, “is pretty spectacular.”
I sniff as tears trail down my face. Cal sits up and hesitantly places his hand on my cheek and brushes the tears away with his thumb.
“Thank you.” I sniff.
“He doesn’t deserve your tears,” he says, as his calloused thumb wipes away yet another tear.
“Who? My dad or Jason?”
He exhales slowly. “Both? I’m not going to sit here and try to understand what was going on in your dad’s head, Aspen. It’s possible he was protecting you, but I don’t have any real answers there; I can only speculate. I found it odd that you were thrust into this position, and no one knew who you were. Hell, from what you just told me, you didn’t even know who you were until two months ago. Now that I know your dad was absent from your entire life, I’m baffled. What I do know is that man has been in my life for three years, and throughout those three years, he was always about family.” He bends his knees, resting his elbows on them. “The game room? He didn’t build that for the players; he built that for the kids. Hannah was hired to be his assistant, so she could be close to her dad. He allowed children to come to work with their parents. Maybe that was because he was missing out on you. But Jason? Yeah, that guy’s a dick. He didn’t deserve you, and he sure the fuck doesn’t deserve Tuck.” He lays back down beside me, both of us focusing on the cloudless dark sky. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah?”
“Why weren’t you at your dad’s funeral?”
I frown. “I was. I sat in the back.” I’m confused, but then it dawns on me. “If you’re referring to me not sitting in the front row, it’s because I didn’t feel like I belonged in the family section.”
“That’s understandable. I have another question.”
“Shoot.”
“River . . . um . . . she’s your sister? I’m sorry if I’m being forward, but I’m curious; she doesn’t look anything like you.”
I giggle, “That’s because she isn’t my biological sister. We’ve been best friends since we were babies. She is the only family I have, aside from my mom, so yeah, we chose each other. We look at each other as sisters even though we aren’t blood-related.”
“So, she moved up here to help you?”
I run my hands through my hair, then adjust my shirt, stopping it from riding further up my stomach. “Yeah, um . . . she had some stuff going on and wanted to get away.”
The heaviness of our conversation wafts in the air as we lay in silence once more, looking up at the night sky.
I turn my head back to him, studying his profile. He’s beautiful. His right arm is bent with his hand tucked behind his head, and his other one is flat between us. Long lashes that are just not fair for a guy to possess fan around his hazel eyes. Eyes so alluring and beautiful that when you look close enough, you can even see the gold flecks in them. His lips are plump and perfect. I imagine their softness; what they might feel like on mine. “I don’t know if I said it earlier, but I’m sorry for everything as well.”
“Apology accepted,” he tells me, then adds, “Truce?”
“Truce. Thank you for taking care of us on Friday.”
It’s an odd feeling; I don’t think I have ever had a man take care of me or Tucker. It felt . . . nice. His pinky slightly grazes the side of my hand. I don’t know if it’s intentional or if it’s because we’re lying so close to one another, but an electric current runs throughout my body.
“You know, I was thinking . . .” His eyes trace my face when I turn my head back to him. My heart picks up speed.
I laugh. “Don’t go thinking we’re friends now because we had a moment, Hotshot.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, Firecracker.” He chuckles.