Chapter 9 #2
“No one’s expecting you to not be a mess,” I said as gently as I could. “If your feelings don’t make sense—I mean, mine haven’t made a damn bit of sense, and I didn’t lose my husband or the father of my kids.”
To my surprise, she gave a quiet little laugh. “I don’t know.” She half-shrugged, and there was a faint but unmistakable hint of her mischievous personality sparkling in her eyes. “It wasn’t for nothing I always called you Leif’s boyfriend.”
I snorted, some warmth rushing into my face.
She laughed again, then sighed. “Anyway. It’s… Things have been rough. And I’ll tell people about the baby soon. Just…” She swallowed, her composure threatening to fracture again. “Not yet. Maybe once I figure out what I feel about… God, anything.”
I hugged her again. “You’ve got time.”
“Not much,” she said dryly into my shoulder. “Hoodies are only going to do so much for so long.”
“Yeah, maybe. But everyone’s following your lead. Even if they can tell or they guess, I don’t imagine anyone’s going to ask about it or tell anyone until you do.”
The sigh that came was filled with relief. “Let’s hope.” Then she drew back, and as she wiped her eyes again, she seemed to be pulling herself together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload on you.”
“Kinda think you needed it.”
“Yeah. Probably. But still.” She looked right in my eyes. “How are you doing? And don’t try to tell me you’re good because I know you, Avery.”
The sudden shift caught me off-guard, and I just barely got all my defenses back into place. Yeah, she knew me, but I wasn’t about to make a grieving widow—a pregnant grieving widow—shoulder the absolute emotional trash fire I was trying not to be.
“It’s been hard,” I admitted. “But I’m… I won’t say I’m good, but I’m holding it together.”
Rachel studied me, and her skepticism almost cracked through the facade. Much to my relief, her next question was, “How is the team doing? I, um… I haven’t been watching games or keeping up on anything. I can’t imagine trying to play through that.”
The lump in my throat did not want to be ignored, but I spoke around it anyway. “It’s been an adjustment. The new guys have really stepped up, and everyone else is finding their groove.”
“That’s good,” she said softly. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “Having you as their captain has probably helped. The team is in good hands.”
My stomach lurched at the reminder of the captaincy’s pressure. “God, I hope so.”
“They are.” She squeezed my arm as her smile came to life a little more. “Leif always knew you’d be captain after he retired.”
I laughed just to keep myself from breaking. She didn’t need that.
“So what about your new teammate?” Mischief sparkled in her tired eyes. “Wasn’t that the one you had a crush on?”
This time, the laugh felt more genuine, and some warmth rose in my face.
“Yeah. Peyton Hall. He, uh…” I ran a hand through my hair.
“He’s the one I’ve had a thing for since…
God, I don’t know. A while.” My humor dipped, though, and I avoided her gaze.
“I… haven’t really given him much thought, though. Not since…”
Rachel sighed. “I’m sorry. That really sucks.”
I grunted in agreement but didn’t know what to say. Uncomfortable silence threatened to set in, so I cleared my throat and gestured at the ceiling above us. “So, I’m guessing you need help setting up the baby’s room?”
Rachel nodded, managing a small smile. “If you don’t mind?”
“Pfft. Are you kidding?” I grinned. “So are we doing it in a Doctor Who theme?”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, no.”
“Oh come on! Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Laughing, she said, “Jesus Christ. Just… Get upstairs.”
I laughed too as she led me out of the dining room.
We stopped to check on the kids—they were still happily engrossed in their show, and while we’d been talking, Rachel’s mother had come in from elsewhere in the house.
She offered me a taut and faintly chilly greeting; she’d never been particularly fond of me because she was convinced Leif spent time with me that he should’ve been spending with his wife and kids.
I wasn’t about to argue about it with her now, especially since I knew that Rachel vehemently disagreed with her.
With Grandma watching the kids, we went upstairs to the spare bedroom.
“The baby’s going to sleep in my room as much as possible,” she explained as she pushed open the door, “but this makes it easier for naps. For both of us.”
I nodded. I remembered that from when Elsa was a baby; I’d asked them why they’d gone to all the trouble to set up a bedroom for her when she slept in their room.
“Because Rachel and I need to sleep,” Leif had said as we’d assembled a crib.
“If the baby’s having a really tough night, one of us can come in here while the other sleeps.
The next time it happens, we switch. Or if I’ve been on the road for a while, she can get a good night’s sleep while I handle Dad duty in the next room.
We always prefer to keep the baby close, but this helps on the really fussy nights. ”
He’d come to many a practice or morning skate, bleary-eyed and clinging to his coffee, but he never complained, and he and Rachel had weathered all three of their newborns together.
For baby number four, I realized with a fresh pang of sadness, she’d be on her own.
She had her mom here to help, and she had support from the team.
But I couldn’t imagine not having Dad there.
I knew some of the wives, including Rachel, struggled with young kids during those stretches when their husbands were on road trips. Leif… wasn’t coming home this time.
Fuck. One gut punch after another.
I shook myself and muffled a cough. “So.” I looked around the room, which was empty except for some flatpacks. “How do you want to set it up?”
She gave me a quick rundown, from the paint she wanted on the walls to where the furniture should go. She tried to insist on helping, but I shooed her out.
“Not without a note from your doctor,” I told her.
She giggled. “I can handle painting! It’s non-toxic, and—”
“Out.” I gave her a gentle nudge toward the door. “I don’t want you seeing all the swear words I’m going to paint on the wall before I cover them up.”
That had her laughing more heartily than I’d heard in way too long.
“Okay, okay!” She stepped out into the hall. Gesturing at my long since cooled coffee, she asked, “Do you want a fresh cup? A beer?”
Oh, God, did that beer sound tempting.
“I’m good,” I lied. “When I hit a stopping point, I’ll let you know, and we can order lunch.”
“Please.” She waved that away. “I’m putting you to work. The least I can do is make you a sandwich. Let me know when you’re hungry.”
“I will.”
She left me to it, and I looked around the empty room.
It wasn’t a huge room. Painting the walls and assembling flatpack furniture weren’t exactly monstrous tasks.
But damn if it didn’t all feel like I was being asked to clean an entire sheet of ice with a toothbrush.
I closed my eyes and pushed out a long breath through my nose. Time to pull it together. Rachel was dealing with far more than I was. She needed help, and she wasn’t asking me to move mountains. She was just asking me to help her set up a bedroom for her baby.
Rolling my shoulders, I opened my eyes. I could do this. Nothing in the world was too much if it helped my best friend’s grieving family. And like hell was I going to add to their burden by letting my own cracks show.
I wasn’t okay, but for today, I would be.
As I picked up a roll of painter’s tape and got to work, I reminded myself there was a brand-new bottle of vodka in my freezer at home.
All I had to do was get through today. Work on this room. Help Rachel and the kids. Pretend I wasn’t this close to falling apart.
And when I got home tonight, I would drink until I couldn’t remember how to cry.