14. Chase
Chase
Well fuck!
It takes effort not to say the words out loud.
I promised myself I would stop swearing in front of the girls. I intend to stick to that promise no matter the circumstances.
But fuck, it’s hard.
If there ever was a situation that warranted swearing, it’s this one.
How did I miss the way the girls feel about being in this house?
Their home should make them feel safe—happy. It shouldn’t hurt.
The guilt swamping me sinks my stomach and drags my shoulders along with it. Slumping forward, elbows on the counter between us, I force words through my constricted throat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The girls look at each other before Cass answers. “We feel guilty about hating it here.”
“It’s okay to feel the hate. And the guilt. There are no rules to grief or the emotions you feel when you suffer from it.” Natalie’s voice is a soothing wave of comfort.
For all of us.
“I hate that you haven’t talked to me about it.”
“You never talk about hockey and before you talked about nothing else?” Cass throws out.
“Yeah. Okay. I should talk to you about how I’m feeling too.”
“I think you all should see a counselor. Together and individually.”
My gaze moves to Natalie and the understanding I see in her gaze almost takes out my knees.
“I’ll organize something after we deal with the camp issue.”
“We’re not going back!” Cass steps back from the island, her small fists clenched at her sides, her body vibrating with anger.
“Of course not.” I straighten, gaze locked on my sister’s. “Why the hell do you think I’d make you?”
“Because you said we had to do things like before.”
“Fuck!”
There’s no way to keep the curse in my head this time. And as I shove my hands through my hair and yank on the ends, I can’t bring myself to care when there are far more important things to worry about.
“I didn’t mean you had to suffer. I thought doing things the way we always have would help.”
“Nothing helps,” Stell mutters. “It hurts every day. Sometimes more, sometimes less.”
“I know.” Why did I assume they weren’t thinking what I was? I need to find a way to stop my sisters’ pain. “When does it hurt less? What makes it hurt less?”
As one, the twins look at Natalie.
I don’t need them to voice what they’re thinking—it’s written all over their faces. And haven’t I thought the same? Thought how much better things are with Natalie here?
“Natalie.” Her name is a whisper. I’m not sure if I’m voicing the twins’ thoughts or asking for her help.
“Why don’t we eat, then watch a movie. We can talk in the morning about the situation at camp and once we’ve dealt with that, we can talk about you all moving to Baton Rouge with me.” Her words settle the tension in the room with surprising ease.
Is it the sound of her voice or the promise in her words?
Or her?
I can’t deny the woman has been a savior. And it’s not just me she’s helped, it’s all of us. She’s the voice of reason and calm—the stability—we’ve been lacking since Mom and Dad died.
And while that’s a lot of pressure to put on a stranger’s shoulders, she seems more than willing to share the burden of our grief and struggles.
It’s unfair, and I hate that I’m relying on her so much, but I’ve been drowning. And I’m man enough to accept that I need help.
I might be too proud to ask for it most of the time, but she doesn’t make me feel incapable or ashamed when I do.
Reaching for a slice of pizza, I say, “Candace is due to wake in about an hour. I’ll grab a quick shower after a few pieces of pizza if you take care of clean up.”
Natalie looks at the twins in silent question then gives them an encouraging smile. “We can do that, right, girls?”
“Yeah, we need to do a load of washing tonight.”
I smile. “You don’t have—shi- oot !” I drop my pizza and race for the laundry.
I cannot believe I forgot to start the washer.
Again.
Here I am ready to gloat about doing the washing and as usual all I’ve managed to do is put the dirty clothes in the machine.
The girls are laughing behind me, and I can hear them telling Natalie in halted words between their giggles about my dubious laundry skills.
It’s embarrassing. Pushing a button to start the machine isn’t hard. Fuck, even my fourteen-year-old sisters can do it.
I check the detergent dispenser to be sure I at least remembered that part of the process before I hit the start button. Shaking my head I turn to find all three of them crowded in the doorway behind me.
They’re matching grins and laughing eyes, and I can’t bring myself to care they’re amused at my expense, because the twins look happy.
And it’s a far better look than the one they wore earlier.
I hate seeing them upset. I hate it even more that they didn’t come to me with their worries. That they didn’t give me the chance to take care of them.
“I don’t care what it is or who it’s about, I want you to tell me anything that worries you or makes you mad or upset or happy. Whatever. I want you to talk to me. About everything. I can’t help you, or support you, or be there for you, if I don’t know there’s something going on.”
The smiles slowly slide off their faces and with a glance at each other they come to a decision. But as usual, it’s Cass who voices it.
“Okay. But you have to promise the same. We know you’re an adult and we’re not, but we should be in this together. You’re not our dad even if you have to take on that role now.”
Her words are full of wisdom and understanding beyond her years and I have to thank our parents for that. They never forced us to grow up before our time, but they taught us responsibility and never sugar-coated the realities of life.
Especially after Mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
Stepping forward, I crouch in front of them. They aren’t short for their age but compared with my six feet four inches they are. Holding out both hands I wait for each of them to grab one.
“I promise. When I’m struggling with something, I’ll tell you. When something good happens, I’ll tell you. When there are big decisions to make about our family, I’ll talk to you.”
“Moving is a big family decision,” Stell murmurs.
“Yes. It is. And it isn’t just moving to Baton Rouge. We have to decide what to do with this house, all the furniture, the cars.”
“I don’t know if I want to sell it.”
I lock eyes with Stell. Out of the twins she’s always been the more sensitive and I have to be aware of that, and if I want her to talk to me in the future, I need to show her I’m willing to do the same. The only way to do that is to give her my own truths.
“I don’t know if I want that either, but we can’t leave it empty, and I don’t want anyone else living here if we keep it.”
“Could we, maybe, keep it for a little while?” Her gaze darts to Natalie then back. “In case we want to come back?”
“We can. I’m sure we could have someone come in and take care of things, keep it clean, until we decide what to do.” My own gaze moves from the girls to Natalie.
The quick nod from her has me breathing easier.
Looking back at Stell, I say, “But I’m betting we’re going to love it in Baton Rouge. You should ask Natalie to show you the pictures of her house. It has an indoor pool as well as an outdoor one.”
“Two pools!” The girls shout together, their heads whipping around to face Natalie; their hands letting go of mine as their bodies follow.
“Yes. Why don’t I grab my laptop and show you some pictures while we eat dinner?”
Pushing to my feet, I shoot Natalie an appreciative smile. She tips her head in acknowledgment before ushering the girls out of the laundry room and I take a moment before following.
This whole day has given me emotional whiplash and I need a second to get myself settled. As settled as I can be when so much has happened in the last few months.
So much loss. So much pain and grief and now this weird conflict with the twins’ camp coordinator.
On top of that there’s the elation of being offered my dream. A position on the newest NHL team.
A starting position.
No one would begrudge me a minute to catch my breath.
I was fairly sure I was going to accept the contract with the Rogues and move us all south before this afternoon. But after the drama at camp, and the twins’ outburst over dinner, I’m one hundred percent sure of what to do.
I’m signing with the Rogues and moving our barely patched together family to Baton Rouge.
I have to believe it’s the change we all need. As much as I love this house, have wonderful memories in it, the girls are right. It hurts to be here without Mom and Dad.
We don’t need the house our parents bought to raise their family in to remember them. They’ll live in our hearts for the rest of our lives, and I want those lives to be happy. If that means uprooting everyone and moving thousands of miles away, we’ll do it.
“Are you coming?” Natalie’s voice focuses my thoughts outward. “I think Candace is stirring. I popped a bottle in the warmer and I can go up and get her while you eat something.”
I stare at the woman standing in the doorway of the laundry room and wonder how the hell I survived the months before she showed up on my doorstep.
She’s a straight shooting, no nonsense, somewhat brash businesswoman, and yet beneath that outer layer lies the softest of hearts. I don’t know all her story, but what I do know tells me she doesn’t show that heart to many.
And for some reason she’s decided to share her soft center with me and my sisters.
“Yeah, I’ll grab a bite then a shower if she isn’t awake when I’ve done eating.” I step toward her. “Thank you.”
“For?” she asks with an arch of her eyebrow.
“Everything. For whatever forces put you on our doorstep.”
“You put me on your doorstep. I was coming for you anyway. Circumstances delayed my arrival though.”
“You were coming for me?” That’s a revelation I didn’t know I needed to hear.
“Yes. We’ve been watching you for a while. And I was supposed to come see you at college months ago, make you an offer.”
“Why didn’t you?”
I can see the war going on in her head. She doesn’t want to tell me what delayed her. I can tell she knows why we didn’t meet before now though.
With a sigh, she says, “My soon-to-be ex. In one of his many misguided attempts to gain my attention, he kept me from making the journey here. Until now.”
“And he’s still being difficult?”
“Yes. As soon as I’m back home I’ll put my focus on dealing with him.”
“Deal with him now. Don’t let our drama pull you away from what you need to do.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is if you’re going to wait until you get home.”
“Okay, I might be focused on you and the girls, but I want to be. It won’t make any difference to wait. He’s going to keep being a prick until I show my face. It’s what he does.”
“Why? You said he’s stepped out on your marriage.”
“He has. Since the beginning I think, although I only have proof for the last few years.”
“Then what does he hope to gain?”
“He thinks he’s winning when he forces me to see him.” She shrugs. “Who knows what goes through his head. I certainly don’t.”
“But you married him?”
“I did. For billions of important reasons.” She grins.
“I don’t like that he’s fucking you around.”
“You and me both.”
“What will make him stop?”
“Nothing. I’m sure even when he signs the papers and we’re divorced, he’ll find ways to annoy me.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t understand that.”
“Money makes people do stupid things.”
“Okay, that I understand.”
“He’s getting a lot of money to sign the divorce papers but if he doesn’t, he thinks he’s got access to more.”
A horrible thought hits me. “What if something happens to you? Please tell me you have a will that excludes him.”
“I do. And most of the money is tied up in trusts preventing him from getting to it if he contests my will.”
“I hate that I’m thinking about you not being here but are you sure the business, the team, is protected?”
“Yes. It’s all taken care of. When we formed KAW and began operations for Rogue sportswear, we went to a lawyer and had every legal avenue looked at. Only the four of us can inherit the business. Although I guess we need to revisit that now that Oakley and Blake are married with kids.”
“Something to think about.”
“You need to think about it too.”
I hate that I have to because that means something has happened to me and the girls are alone. “I know. I did a quick will when I signed the guardian paperwork and various other papers about our parents’ estate.”
“We can work on it after you sign your contract.”
I grin. “Now that’s paperwork I’m happy to deal with.”
“You’ll be negotiating with Oakley. I can’t do it because it would be a conflict of interest.”
“Because you’re helping me? With the girls?”
“Yes. But more because you’ll be living in my house.”
“I thought we weren’t going to tell anyone that.”
“We won’t. But it won’t be a secret either. And I think it would be better if Oakley deals with you and your agent.”
“Drake said he’d fly in to meet me.”
“Get him to meet you in Baton Rouge. He represents a few of our players as well as our head coach.”
“That’s right, I forgot he was Walker Alcott’s agent.”
“He has Branton on his books too. In fact he represents several of our players.”
Damn. I knew Drake was good. I’ve heard good things about him over the years but knowing I’ll share an agent with Walker Alcott and Branton Lattimer-Watts is like icing on top of my dream cake.
A shrill cry followed by the twins hollering, “Candace is awake,” breaks us out of our conversation.
“I’ll get her, you grab something to eat,” Natalie says over her shoulder, already on her way to follow her own instructions.
I watch her go. The ease with which we split duties in this parenting gig makes me think I can do right by my sisters.
And I know her unwavering confidence and support has done a lot to help me see I’m capable of being the parent figure my parents would want for their daughters.
If they can’t be here, they believe—believed—I’m the next best thing, and I don’t plan to let them down.
For me, for the girls.
And now for the most unlikely woman to come into our lives. Natalie Redding is a hidden gem I refuse to disappoint.
If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure she’s never sorry for offering me a contract on her team. But most of all, I plan to make sure she never regrets offering to help me take care of the girls.