43. Epilogue
Bouncing on my toes I try to soothe the fussy baby strapped to my chest but he’s having none of it.
He’s a Daddy’s boy.
Most of the time that’s not a problem. Bran is a hands-on dad and never far from our son. I’m pretty sure he’s changed more diapers than I have in the nine months of Drew’s life.
Normally I would hand him off to Bran. I’m not at all upset my son seems to prefer his father to me.
When Drew lets out another squawk of protest, I give in and lower myself to a seat. A couple of quick snaps and both of us are free of the carrier he hates unless it’s attached to his dad and he’s sitting on the floor at my feet happily babbling away.
I have no idea what he’s saying but I’d bet money on it being about his dad. He’s probably telling me to go get him.
Normally I would, except right now, Dad is on the ice in the first pre-season game of the Rogues inaugural year playing in the NHL.
We’re in the owners box. Oakley and Nat are talking in hushed tones off to the side. My parents, Mason, Sutton, and Cash are all hovering near the glass, watching the game.
I’d decided to come up here with Drew instead of being down with my team and I’m just as agitated as my son.
“Go down there. Leave him with us. Micky will keep him occupied and your mom and dad are here.”
I look up at a frowning Oakley. “No. I’m good.”
“You are not.” Nat grips my elbow and tugs me from my seat.
“Hey!”
“Don’t hey me. Get your ass down there and do your job!”
“But—” I break off when I see my son has crawled over to his namesake and is now perched in Dad’s lap happily clapping his hands and babbling. “Shit. You’re right. He’s probably been fussy because I’m feeling out of sorts.”
“Then get out of here so you can both feel better.” Oakley gives me a little push. “Tell Walker I’ll meet him before the press conference.”
“Okay. See you downstairs later.” I head over to Mom and Dad so I can kiss my boy and tell them where I’m going so I get to see my hot shot in action.
Everyone is on their feet when Beckett Higgison gets a clear shot to Bran who’s got himself an even clearer path to the back of the net.
The arena comes alive with a roar. Every fan on their feet as the first goal of the game comes off a Rogues stick.
“Holy shit. That boy is on fire.” Dad looks back at me. “I never said it before, but I was worried. I wasn’t sure he still had it in him, not after…”
“I know. I get it. The media have been all over it since he signed with us.”
“You heading down there?” Mason asks.
“Yeah.”
“Can I bring Cash down later?”
“Of course.” I glance at my nephew. He’s doing okay but I’ve got something I want to run by my brother after the game and if he brings Cash down I can entice both of them to accept my proposal. “I’ll get Oakley to give everyone passes.”
“We have them. Just didn’t want to presume.”
“Presume away. If you’ve got a pass, use it.”
“Thanks.”
“See you later.”
I duck out of the suite, hit the stairwell instead of the elevator because I need to work off some of this nervous energy.
It takes me no more than five minutes to get to the coaching staff’s offices, then a short stroll to the change room and tunnel. It isn’t until I’m almost out in the arena that I remember I removed my jacket up in the suite.
“Shit.”
Spinning around I find Trevor, Oakley’s former assistant turned Rogues fixer. “You might need this.”
“Oh my god! You’re a magician.” Snatching the jacket from his hand, I slide my arms into the sleeves. “How did you know?—”
“Please. I’ve been following you around picking up clothing since you had the next generation of Rogues.” Shaking his head, he says, “Not even out of diapers and he already knows how to get a woman out of her clothes.”
“Hey! That’s not?—”
“Joking!” He reaches out, straightens my collar, tugs the sides into place. “I won’t say I told you so, but I told you so. Now get out there with your team.”
Trevor grips my shoulders, spins me around, and pushes me forward. “What is it with people pushing me around today?” I huff.
“We’re just making sure you are where you should be. And that’s standing behind the bench yelling at your team for doing dumb shit with the puck.”
I laugh. Trevor is not a fan of hockey. I have no idea why he doesn’t like it. Who doesn’t like hockey? Not that he lets his aversion to the sport stop him from being the team’s right hand. None of us would function without him. “Can you check?—”
“Check the family suite and make sure all the partners and children are being looked after.”
“How the hell did you know I was going to ask that?”
“Were you?”
“Well, yes, but?—”
He puts up a hand. “You are the assistant coach of the Baton Rouge Rogues. Your job is to worry about the players. It’s our job, mine mostly, to worry about their families. Now go! We’re two minutes from the end of the first half.”
“Period. It’s the first period.”
“I don’t need to know about your female piping.”
I’m still laughing when Trevor disappears from sight.
And surprisingly, the nerves from earlier are gone.
“Damn. He’s good.” Pulling my phone from my pocket I shoot him a thank you text and Oakley one to suggest we give him a raise.
His reply is why aren’t you already yelling at your players, and Oakley’s is how much?.
I grin. Owning the Rogues, training the team while having and raising a baby is hard work. There have been numerous sleepless nights, but every one of those hard minutes is worth it to be surrounded by the family we’ve built.
A roar echoes down the tunnel and I’m sprinting to the exit. As I clear the doorway, I see the replay on the big screen and hear the announcer’s booming voice.
“Another hot shot from Lattimer Watts. He’s on fire today. All those naysayers are eating crow right now.”
Yes, he is on fire. But then he has been since the minute he decided to come out of hiding.
* * *