Chapter 60
Chapter Sixty
Renthrow
Hockey used to be my refuge, but now, not even sprinting across the ice can take my mind off what Cordelia said.
I don’t want to be a mother.
This isn’t my first time hearing a woman say that, so why does it feel harder to move on from it?
I don’t want to be a mother.
I’m stuck in that garage, hearing those words over and over again. In the moment, I was gutted like someone slashed me across the stomach with a knife and all my intestines came spilling out.
Graphic, I know.
But the pain hasn’t gotten any better.
I’m angry.
Not at Cordelia but at myself.
I let myself get in too deep, dreaming of marriage, kids, the future I’d always wanted…with her. And again, I read the situation completely wrong.
At this point, I can’t blame the women I keep falling for.
It’s all on me.
Cordelia is within her rights to not want kids, but I can’t erase my daughter from existence. I wouldn’t want to even if I could. I’m a father first. Any woman who gets involved with me and Gordie would not only be a wife. They’d also automatically become a mother.
I can’t bring a woman who doesn’t want to be a mother around my child. No matter how much I lo—like Cordelia. It’s not going to happen.
This is my fault. I should have just kept my focus on Gordie. Why did I let Cordelia shake my concentration? Why did I put myself in this position again?
I sigh heavily and stare at the puck in front of me. It’s one black dot in a glaring sea of white. My arm feels as heavy as my heart. I take aim, but I know before the hockey stick even meets the puck that it’s a miss.
“That was ugly,” Chance says, skating beside me.
“What exactly were you aiming for?” Gunner asks, joining Chance.
I shake my head and skate to the second puck lined up in between the orange cones. The next shot hits the boards.
I played better when I was in high school. Heck, I’d probably play better blindfolded.
“Oof.” Chance makes a pained face.
Gunner cringes. “Are you okay, man? You’ve been out of it for two days.”
He’s right. Good thing hockey season is over. If I’d fallen for Cordelia during playoffs, I could have cost us all the trophy.
“I need a minute.” I skate off the ice and sit on the bench. The Hello Kitty water bottle that I filled up this morning is almost empty. After guzzling that down, I search my bag for more water.
I’m fresh out.
I leave the rink area, so I can fill up at the water fountain by the bathrooms. I have my Hello Kitty bottle stuck under the faucet when someone steps out of the bathroom and flicks his hands.
I look up and recognize Nathan Campbell immediately.
The famous rookie freezes in his tracks when he sees me filling up the Hello Kitty bottle. I stare at him emotionlessly. If Cordelia hadn’t ripped my heart out of my chest two days ago, I’d offer him a greeting.
But as it stands, I can only fake a smile in front of my daughter at home. The rest of the world can get my scowls.
“Hey.” Campbell walks by me. “Nice water bottle.”
I grunt what I hope is an acceptable greeting.
He lifts his sweatpants and shows off a tattoo of an animated character. “I’m a Death Note fan myself.” As he pulls up more of his pants, he reveals a gnarly scar with several perfect circles that look like his skin threaded itself over screws.
That looks like it hurt.
To be polite, I remove my eyes from the scar and see the image of a cartoon character with spiky, black hair and big eyes inked into Campbell’s skin.
I have no idea what Death Note is, nor have I ever seen that character. Either way, I’m not in the mood to talk. I grunt and go back to glowering at the wall and thinking about Cordelia.
Campbell waits a beat, sees me snub his attempt at conversation, and winds his pants back down.
“Alright then,” he says with a shrug and keeps walking.
I hear footsteps coming toward me next.
Chance and Gunner approach with determined faces.
“Renthrow, what the heck is up with you?” Chance barks.
Gunner frowns at me. “We know something went down between you and the sponsor’s daughter.”
I blink.
“April and Rebel told us everything.” Chance stares at me. “Apparently, Cordelia’s been having a hard time too.”
I jerk up. “Cordelia’s having a hard time?”
Chance shakes his head. “You’re no better. You’ve been zoning out during camp. If we didn’t cover for you, the coach would have pulled you up by now. Even the new kids are playing better than you, man. This isn’t like you at all.”
“It has nothing to do with Cordelia,” I grumble.
Gunner looks concerned. “Is it Gordie?”
“Gordie and I are fine. We don’t need anyone or anything but each other.” I cap my Hello Kitty water bottle, nod sharply at them, and stalk back to the rink.
Chance grabs my shoulder before I get too far. “Renthrow.”
I shove his arm off. “What?”
“I don’t know what you and the new mechanic are going through right now, but I do know that I’ve never seen Gordie light up around a person the way she does around Delia. And I’ve never seen you light up as much either.”
“Take it from me,” Gunner warns. “Don’t let years go by with misunderstandings and unspoken feelings. It seems easier to distance yourself than to hash things out. But just because it’s easier doesn’t mean it’s better.”
“She’s made herself clear,” I growl. “There’s no need for more words.”
“What did she say?” Chance challenges.
“That’s between me and her.”
Chance raises his hands, conceding to my stubbornness. “I won’t pry. Just…don’t be an idiot over something you could clear up with a conversation.”
“Misunderstandings that a conversation could resolve are the worst,” Gunner grumbles as if he learned from personal experience.
“If she means something to you, if she’s worth it, fight.”
“What if fighting is pointless?” I growl. “What if she’s already made up her mind?”
“That’s the perfect time to show her that you love her…in spite of everything,” Gunner says.
They don’t understand.
I’m not going to fight for a woman who doesn’t want to be a mother. I tried it once and failed. Never again.
Chance sighs. “Come on. Let’s get back before Coach calls out our names again.”
I try to play with more focus, so the guys won’t feel the need to corner me a second time, but I still end up getting reamed by the coach.
After camp, I pick up Gordie from school.
To my surprise, Miss Potts is waiting on the curb, holding Gordie’s hand. My little girl is smiling and chatting with her, but I still feel a twinge of concern. Did Gordie have an incident during class?
I jog toward them.
“Daddy!” Gordie screams and runs to me.
“Hey, pumpkin.” I give her a big hug and then lift her into my arms as I look at her teacher. “Miss Potts.”
“Hi, Viking,” she says stiffly.
“Why are you outside? Did anything happen?”
“Miss Potts says she wanted to talk to you because my beans grew the best.” Gordie beams like a proud farmer. “I got three of ‘em.”
“That’s great, pumpkin.” I force a smile.
“Viking, I’d like a word?” Miss Potts says. There’s an edge of anger beneath her smile.
I take Gordie’s pink backpack and swing it over my shoulder. “Go play on the swings while Daddy talks to Miss Potts.”
Gordie runs to the playground that’s within eyesight. I return my attention to Miss Potts and see the annoyance on her face. Somehow, I don’t think this discussion has anything to do with Gordie’s condition. Or beans in a cup.
“What’s this about?” I ask.
“Viking, I think it’s time we have a discussion about us.”
My eyebrows rise.
“I’ve made it no secret that I’m interested in you. Although you haven’t been overt about it, I thought there was an understanding between us.”
That genuinely shocks me.
Miss Potts reads my stunned expression and explains, “I’ve seen the way you treat other women in town, and you were always nicer to me.”
“You’re my daughter’s teacher.”
“Was that really all it was?” Miss Potts demands.
The fervor of her words and the betrayal in her eyes makes me question every interaction I’ve had with her.
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, Miss Potts. That wasn’t my intention at all.” I shake my head. “The only feelings on my part are respect and appreciation. I’m a friend of anyone who takes care of my daughter and treats her well. That’s the extent of it.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and she croaks, “So you’re saying this has all been in my head? You really don’t like me?”
I’m suddenly, overwhelmingly exhausted. After everything that’s happening with the team and with Cordelia, I don’t have the patience for this.
Miss Potts continues earnestly. “Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe you weren’t interested before, but I’m making it clear now. I have feelings for you, Renthrow. Deep feelings.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Before you answer, just think about it. We’ve known each other for so long. I’m a much better fit for you and Gordie than that mechanic.”
Annoyance hits my veins. “I don’t need to think about it.
I’m not interested in you, Miss Potts. I apologize again if I led you on in any way, but I hope we can continue being friends and that you’ll continue to look out for Gordie.
” I turn to the playground, done with the conversation.
“Gordie!” I wave to get my daughter’s attention.
She hops off the swings and runs over.
Miss Potts is trembling. “Do you even know what kind of person she is?”
“Are you talking about Cordelia?” My voice is sharp, cutting.
“I looked her up. She’s a total whack job.”
“Don’t call her that,” I growl.
“Her past employees said she was cold and mean. They said she was like a zombie who didn’t care about anyone.”
“Jealous people will say anything.”
“She didn’t even care to go to her own twin sister’s funeral.”
That stops me in my tracks. Sister? Cordelia has a twin?
A conversation Cordelia and I had back before we started dating slips through my mind.
“Who’s Gwen?”
“I don’t want to talk about her.” Cordelia had spoken sharply, and I’d backed off.
“Does that sound like a normal person?” Miss Potts shrieks.
“Daddy?” Gordie slips her hand through mine.
Nostrils flaring, I heft Gordie into my arms and turn away from Miss Potts. “I hope you haven’t been repeating that garbage to anyone in town.”
“Viking—”
“Miss Potts,” I say in a clipped voice, “please don’t cross the line again. I hope I’ve made myself clear.”
“Bye, Miss Potts!” Gordie waves cutely, oblivious to the tension.
I settle her in the backseat and drive off. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and my mind shifts with all the different puzzle pieces.
Cordelia has a twin sister who passed away. Could that be why, at random moments, she gets that sad, broken look on her face? Is it also what caused her and her mom to be at odds?
“Daddy, can we go see Delia?” Gordie asks, turning her toy motorcycle around and around in her hands.
“Not yet, pumpkin.”
“Then when?”
I inhale deeply, thinking of what Chance and Gunner warned me about.
If she means something to you, if she’s worth it, then fight.
“Daddy, when can I see Delia?” Gordie whines.
“You have therapy today, pumpkin.”
“But I don’t want to go there. I want to see Delia.”
My heart stumbles over itself. Honestly, I do too.
“Soon,” I promise. “We’ll see her soon.”