Chapter 5
Heather
This is all so weird. Almost surreal, like those last few minutes of a crazy dream, when I’m just conscious enough to know I’m going to wake up any second. Then I’ll be back in my normal bed, in my normal apartment, and living my normal, middle class life.
My life that doesn’t include professional hockey superstars or gated communities that hide the kind of mansions I’ve only ever seen on TV.
“Can you believe this, Mom?” April is literally bouncing in her seat as she leans out the passenger window. “That last house looked just like a castle! But bigger!”
“I’d hate to be the one who has to clean a whole castle,” I say, trying to inject a little levity into the situation.
But seriously, some of these houses—these actual castles—are so ridiculously over-the-top that it’s hard to believe anyone can feel at home in them.
“Do you think Grant lives in one like that?” she asks, pointing at a mock-Tudor that screams ‘old money’ even though the entire development was probably just a giant field five years ago.
“Or maybe like that one!” She points to a modern build that’s all glass and sleek curves. “It’s almost like a spaceship!”
“It might be a spaceship, for all we know. Try not to get your fingerprints on the window, sweetheart.”
She huffs out a short breath and sits back in her seat a couple of inches, then shoots an impatient look my way. “So? Which one?”
“Which one what?”
“Which one do you think will look more like Grant’s house?”
I give her question a few seconds of serious thought, then shrug.
“I honestly have no idea what to expect. The house could look old or new or anything in between. The important thing is that we respect that it’s someone else’s house and that we’re only temporary guests there, right?
We need to be on our best behavior, and that means you should call him Mr. Parker at first. At least until we know him a little better. ”
She wrinkles her nose, and I feel a pang of guilt for raining on her parade, but I’d be doing her a bigger disservice if I didn’t set a few ground rules and lower her expectations just a little.
We’re not here to party. We’re not his hockey buddies. I’m not even sure I’d consider us to be very far past the acquaintance stage—maybe friends? Friendly, for sure.
But not friendly enough to walk in and treat this like anything other than the fantastic opportunity it is, and to be rightfully thankful to this man for opening his home to us.
I could’ve figured out something on my own.
I would’ve made sure April and I were taken care of, first and foremost. My entire life, whether it’s been with my younger sister, my daughter, or my job, revolves around taking care of people.
I even spent way too much time and energy trying to nurture my terrible ex into something better than he was ever going to be.
It’s just what I do and who I am.
But this time, just this once, it’s been sort of nice to take a step back and let someone else help carry the load that’s constantly on my shoulders, even if it is only for a little while.
Even if that someone is mysteriously grumpy, ridiculously kind, perpetually hard-to-read Grant Parker.
“Is this it?” she asks, bouncing with excitement again as we approach another large gate. “His house has to be here, right? The road ends right here at this gate.”
I can’t even imagine the kind of fame that would require someone to live behind a gate that’s already within a gated, guarded community, but that’s the world Grant lives in. Alone, apparently.
And when I enter the code and that big gate swings open to reveal the massive house behind it, I realize for the first time just how isolated he must be.
He has all the privacy money can buy, but does he have a life?
I’ve never seen him with a date at any of the team functions, and I don’t know whether he has any family beyond the parents who both passed away a few years ago.
“Wow!” April snaps me back to the present as she leans forward to peer up through the windshield at the house. “This is where we get to live? It’s like, a hundred times the size of our apartment! It’s probably bigger than the whole apartment complex!”
The crazy thing is that she’s only exaggerating a little. The closer we get, the more space the house seems to take up, until it’s literally the only thing I can see.
“Remember what I said, sweetheart,” I say as I park the car in front of the imposing front door. “We need to be on our best behavior and—”
“And remember we’re guests here,” she finishes for me. “Oh, and to call him Mr. Parker at first.”
I have to smile. She might be a ball of pent-up energy right now, but I’ve somehow managed to raise a funny, smart, beautiful daughter who means the world to me. Her wellbeing is the deciding factor in every decision I make. Especially this one.
“That’s right,” I nod. “You’re doing such a good job already with this unexpected curveball. I just want you to know that I’m proud of the way you’re stepping up and acting so mature while we get settled here in Denver. I promise we’ll make time to have fun too.”
“Thanks, Mom. You know I’ll make you keep that promise, right?”
“I hope you do.”
We both step out of the car and instinctively look up at the house again. It’s mind-boggling that one person can live here alone.
“Do you think he leaves a trail of breadcrumbs from the front door to his room?” I ask under my breath as we walk up to the covered portico. Unfortunately, the joke is wasted on my nine-year-old, who is currently busy counting the windows along the front of the house.
“Eight on the ground floor, and that’s just on the left side!”
I press a finger to my lips and do my best to stifle a smile. “Let’s finish counting later, okay? Maybe after we’ve said hello and brought our suitcases in.”
Surprisingly, it only takes a minute for him to unlock the door and open it after I press the doorbell.
Maybe it’s just the change of setting from the hockey arena, but he looks different.
More relaxed, for sure, but also a little awkward.
Like he doesn’t exactly know what to do with his hands when he’s not holding a hockey stick.
“Hey,” he says, offering what might generously be called a smile. The corners of his mouth turn up enough to let me know he isn’t frowning, at least. “You made it.”
“We did.” I place a hand on April’s shoulder, as much to steady my own nerves as to keep her from darting inside. “Thanks for having us, Grant. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate the opportunity.”
“Of course,” he answers, still looking a little stiff as he steps aside to let us in. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. I’ll give you some time to get settled, then we’ll get your things unloaded from the car.” He looks past me and frowns. “Are the movers coming later with the rest?”
“The rest?” I blink, then shake my head. Did he honestly think I would move in completely? Was that what he intended? “Oh, no. I didn’t want to pull up with a whole apartment of stuff, so I’ve already moved most of our things into storage. We probably won’t be here long enough to miss it.”
“There’s no time limit on this offer, Heather. I don’t want you to feel rushed to move into something new. And if you decide you want your own space before the new place is ready, I can have my real estate agent help you find a rental in a snap.”
He’s being so kind and generous, but his delivery is so measured and serious, like he’s weighing every word. I’ve been around him enough to know that’s just how he is, but it’s probably going to take me a while to get used to someone who never seems to fully smile or laugh or joke around.
“Mom, can we see the whole house now?” The excitement is obvious in April’s voice as she gives my arm a gentle tug. “Please?”
Grant answers before I have a chance to say anything. “Sure, come on in.” He motions for us to follow. “I’ll give you the grand tour. I have to warn you, though, there isn’t much in the way of, uh, decorations. Or furniture.”
I can see what he means the moment we step into the cavernous, two-story foyer.
The house is gorgeous and enormous, but there’s nothing that gives it the feel of a home.
There are end tables and side tables, and I can see a couch in the living room beyond the foyer.
But no pictures, no throw pillows, not even a single decorative touch.
Then again, maybe that’s what he prefers.
Minimalist. Bare. Less is more, and all that.
Not necessarily my style, but that’s just another reminder that it’s not my house.
I offer a reassuring smile. “Decorated or not, your house is beautiful. We’re just appreciative that you’re letting us stay for a while.”
“Well, like I said, make yourself at home. And just let me know if there’s anything you want to change.”
April is already several feet ahead, tilting her head back as she looks up at the second-floor landing. “This is even better than the house that looked like a castle on the outside! Do you have a pool?”
“Yup. There’s a lap pool in the basement and a sauna on the ground floor, by the laundry room.”
“Can we see the pool first? Oh, and are there any other kids on the street?”
“April, sweetheart,” I cut in before she gets too carried away. “Remember what we talked about.” Turning back to Grant, I offer an apologetic look. “Sorry, she’s just excited to be here.”
He shrugs. “No worries at all. I don’t think there are any kids your age at this end of the neighborhood, but there’s a park just two or three blocks away. We can check it out sometime.”
“Yes!” April turns to me with the same look of wide-eyed wonder she’s had since we pulled up in the driveway. “Can we, Mom? Please?”
I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to turn down such a cute request. I’m also pretty sure she would enthusiastically agree to a trip to the dentist if Grant suggested it.