19. Nicole
NICOLE
The first of the legacy articles was published a week ago.
My editor, Dionne, loved it and the feedback in the comments section of the online version has been positive.
A little too positive if you ask me, with thirsty women drooling all over Owen, but it's to be expected. He’s hot and broody.
And it’ll get worse when they know what a great dad he is too.
That conversation was a hard one to have with Dionne.
To say she was shocked was an understatement.
She was thrilled when I told her Owen wanted her paper to have the breaking story, but I was waiting for the shoe to drop when I explained it was only on the condition that I write it.
She didn’t bat an eyelid and told me to crack on.
Between writing that and the second of the legacy articles, I haven’t had a lot of spare time. If I wasn’t working at home, I’d never see Owen or Lucky. But I’m fortunate to be able to write from anywhere.
I let my fingers fly over the keyboard, hesitating over the more intimate details of mine and Owen’s story, but deciding he’ll read it before I submit so I let the words spill from my fingertips.
I write about everything that led up to the moment when Owen was outside my house staring at his son.
I skip past the next bit, deciding for once in my life writing in a linear way isn’t going to happen, and write a scene about Lucky and Owen.
The bond they’ve formed in such a short time and how much they admire each other.
“Does it hurt when you dive?” Lucky asks his dad as I stand in the shadows and watch the two of them in the garden. I say garden, but Owen’s backyard is more like a field of open green space.
“It depends. You need to learn how to land properly. But being a goalie, it’s your job to stop the ball, no matter what. So sometimes we get hurt, but it’s part of our job.”
Lucky nods his head in understanding as Owen grins down at him. He claps his glove-covered hands together, widens his feet and corrects his stance at his dad’s instruction.
Owen places the ball on a white spot in front of the child-sized goal he had installed for Lucky to practise on. “You ready?”
Lucky nods and takes a deep breath, zeroes in on the ball and doesn’t look anywhere else.
“Yo, Luck.” Brady’s voice comes from behind him, but he ignores it, his focus solid and steady on the black and white sphere at his dad’s feet.
Owen smirks, pulls his leg back and shoots. It sails into the top left corner and I hold my breath in anticipation, hoping with everything that Lucky’s able to stop it.
Time goes in slow motion as he dives for the ball.
He stretches his body out, fingertips reaching.
It brushes the top of them and he pushes the ball with all his might.
It sails away from the corner and my eyes widen, realising Lucky is falling through the air, the ground steadily closing in on my baby boy.
But instead of him crumpling in a heap and crying, he tucks himself into a ball and lands on his side.
I can’t breathe. I’m frozen as Owen jumps up and down in the air. I hear the cheers from him and Brady, but I’m focused on my son who jumps up and pumps his fist in the air. I bend down, hands on my knees, and blow out a breath in relief.
“I did it, Dad. I did it.”
“Yeah you did.” Owen grabs him, hoisting him up and cuddling him to his chest, and my heart constricts with love for them both.
“You did it, my boy. I knew you could. Lockheart blood runs through those veins, Son. Never doubt yourself, in anything. You can achieve greatness, but only if you work hard. You smashed it, Lucky.” He kisses his head and pushes his beaming face into the crook of his neck and tells him, “You bloody smashed it. I love you, Luck.”
He brings his face out of his dads neck, and grins, “Love you too, Daddy.”
I read back what I’ve written, chase the goosebumps from my arms, and smile. It’ll be okay. No matter what happens, we’ll be okay.
For two weeks I’ve hidden at home, too worried to go out in public, avoiding all forms of social media and other people’s judgement on my fucked up life.
I published the article explaining all about my current situation.
I let everyone into my crazy little life, and, as much as I hid certain elements of it, I didn’t explain about my dad’s habit or my run in with loan sharks.
Admitting that I kept the identity of Lucky’s dad a secret from him for five years wasn’t comfortable, or easy.
Whether people understand my reasons or not, I can’t put a positive spin on that.
I should never have kept it a secret. Every child deserves to know who their parents are, and I shouldn’t have kept it from Lucky.
I hope my genuine remorse came across in the article. I hope the stories about how they’ve bonded have lessened the sting over all they’ve missed out on with each other. I’m too scared to look and see though.
Owen has tried to get me to leave the house with him.
Show the press that we’re together and a cohesive family unit, but I can’t face it.
I want it all to blow over, preferably before Lucky has to start school in a few weeks time.
I just hope something else hits the headlines that will make our story old news by the time he enrols.
It’s bad enough he has to start a new school, let alone starting it as the newest gossip fodder.
A loud buzz makes me jump. I'm thankful I’m not holding the cup of coffee I just made myself or that could’ve been a disaster.
I scold myself for being so jumpy as I swivel on my heels to look at the screen of the security camera discreetly tucked away in a corner of the kitchen.
A familiar face smiling back at me brings a sigh of relief, but I hesitate when I notice a not so familiar face too.
Pressing the intercom button, I speak into it clearly, “Jaxson isn’t here, Edie.” Happiness radiates through me when she smiles into the lens. She’s the perfect opportunity for a great distraction. She’s become someone I feel comfortable with, so seeing her here now is just what I needed.
“I know that, Nicole. We’re here to see you. Now open the gate before I open it myself.”
Before I can reply, the unfamiliar blonde lifts her bag and opens it to reveal three bottles of wine she has tucked in there.
With a beaming smile, she winks into the lens and I’m chuckling as I press the intercom button once again.
“Well, seeing as you brought wine with you, come on in. If you knew the code, though, why even buzz? And does Owen know you know it?”
“We buzzed because we’re nice like that.” Her friend, who I’m now assuming is Angie, steps forward and sticks her tongue out at the camera and Edie pushes her back so she can speak.
“Of course Owen doesn’t know. He thinks this place is Fort Knox. Open. The. Gates.” She punctuates those last three words and I laugh as I press the little green button and watch the gates swing open. I know she won’t go away quietly, and to be honest I’d appreciate some female company.
It's not long before the front door is opened and I’m embraced in her arms.
“Sweetie, you’ve locked yourself away for far too long. The three of us have come to liberate you.” She wiggles her eyebrows as I bring mine together.
“Three?”
“Yep.” She smiles as Angie pokes her head over her shoulder, beaming in delight as her other hand brings her phone up to meet my eyes. A photo of a smiling Penny holding a mug that says ‘The better Brady’ is on the screen.
Laughter bubbles out of my mouth and it feels so good to laugh, to smile and be happy, and to not be consumed by what the world thinks of me and my dang life choices.
I’m so glad Edie lives next door. I may have only met her a week or so ago, but she's quickly become someone I trust. She adores Lucky, and anyone who loves my boy like that are good people in my head. So, while Lucky is at a playdate with his friend and Owen’s on his own playdate with Brady, I’ll indulge in some me time with people who will make me feel better about everything.
“Question, why is Penny a picture?”
Edie grins as she places her hands on the counter top. “She’s five hours behind us, so it’s only seven in the morning there, but she wanted to be a part of it even though she’s still asleep.”
Her friend steps forward and plonks the bottles of wine on the counter top.
“I’m Angie. Edie has not stopped talking about you.
I had to come and meet the famous Nicole.
Red, white or rosé?” Waving her hand over the wine bottles like a glamorous assistant from a gameshow, she hovers over the rosé a little longer, and with a grin I select it.
“Excellent choice. Your taste in wine is almost as good as your taste in men.” She winks as Edie pushes her shoulder gently.
“Behave. Take no notice of Angie. She has a small crush on Lockheart.”
“I do not have a crush. I’m just able to appreciate his fine form. A crush indicates I want something to happen, and I do not.” She reassures me with another wink, and I sigh happily knowing I don’t have to kick someone's ass for trying to take Owen from me.
“So I take it you appreciate Jaxson and the rest of the boys on the team too?”
She pulls a face to show her disgust and a laugh barrels out of my throat as Edie rolls her eyes. “Marcello’s okay to look at, but a Brady, yuck.” She shivers for effect as Edie stops reaching for the wine glasses in the top cupboard and turns her head over her shoulder.
“Hey! Jaxson’s the best looking Brady.”
“I haven’t seen the other one, just Jenson, but Jaxson is very cute.” My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but it’s not stopping anytime soon as Angie pretends to heave.
“Here. Tell me he isn’t the hottest.” Edie shoves her phone in my face, and once I’ve taken it, she resumes grabbing the glasses and starts to pour the wine.