Chapter 12
It’s Like a Snow Day, Only Without Snow
Justin
I didn’t sleep well. I was too tense whenever my thoughts landed on Mia coming in the morning.
The team and Caring Hands had sent through a raft of paperwork, the past between Mia and me a problem when it came to maintaining professional boundaries.
Her salary for the next six weeks was prepaid, so I couldn’t pressure her, and the agency had to provide alternative care if Mia left.
Mia had also signed a form to swear she wouldn’t compromise her reports at my urging.
The team decided to send someone out occasionally to assess my progress in person, in case Mia and I colluded to say I was okay when I wasn’t. That made me more concerned that they were looking for a reason to shake the team up when free agency started. The first of July was coming fast.
Dealing with all the additional paperwork was a hassle, but whenever I wondered if it was worth it, I remembered Marge trying to record my conversation.
Better to sign papers and deal with the confusing feelings Mia stirred up when she was around.
It would give me something to talk about with my therapist.
When daylight started to filter through the curtains, I gave up on sleeping and got in the shower. It woke me up, at least well enough to get myself dressed. I headed downstairs to make coffee.
Worrying last night had been pointless. I’d talk to Mia, apologize, and move past those memories.
Then I’d meet with my parents again. And after my cast was off, I could go back to Toronto to do real training, and management wouldn’t be able to point to me as a problem.
If I could spend six weeks with Mia and talk to my mother without losing it, I would be the hockey player Cooper and my team needed, the steady, reliable workhorse.
The coffee machine beeped to let me know it was done.
I grabbed a clean mug from the dishwasher and poured the coffee into it.
I stood at the counter, pulled out my phone and checked messages while I drank.
The team chat was the most fun. Ducky posted about his workouts and his girlfriend—he’d be playing with us again next season, which I looked forward to.
Not that Alek hadn’t kept up the scoring end while Ducky was out, but Ducky had positive energy that helped in the locker room.
Cooper was struggling to keep up his fashion game while wearing a cast. Especially once Oppy had “decorated” it.
Mine was tame in comparison. Cooper spent most offseasons shooting ads for his sponsors, but that was limited by his cast too.
At least he had Callie around to help him through the frustration that being temporarily handicapped caused.
Plus, he had his Cup camp to prepare for.
He’d messaged almost daily to make sure I was still going to be there and ask how I was doing.
Oppy was in the South Pacific somewhere, having an epic vacation, which Petey kept warning would affect his conditioning.
Crash had bought a duplex so his mother and sister had a place beside but not quite with him.
It needed work, so he was posting reno pictures that made me glad that wasn’t my responsibility this summer at Grandma’s.
Bongo had bought a place on the water north of the city and posted pictures of it—almost all of which included his new girlfriend.
We, his teammates, had an open invitation to join him there.
Maybe I would go when I was back. By then the lakes should be warm enough that my balls wouldn’t be in danger. As long as I still made Cooper’s camp.
Mitchell, our backup goalie, was in Montana again running hockey camps.
His friend, Luke Walker, was with him. Luke had done well as my replacement during the short playoff run and had a good chance of making the team this season.
Jayna, Mitch’s girlfriend, had played hockey professionally till an injury forced her to retire.
The camp pictures included a good number of girls as well as boys as a result.
Maybe one of those girls would play in our league.
Faith Devereaux had done it, so the door was open.
Married guys were enjoying the time off with their families, no longer traveling like they did in the season. Everyone was taking advantage of the offseason to heal and recharge. None of them were stumbling over issues from their past.
There was a knock on the door. I checked the time. I’d spent longer than I’d realized catching up on team news. The cup was empty and nerves had my stomach threatening to return the coffee. I pulled in a long breath, told my stomach to settle the fuck down, and moved.
I unlocked the front door and pulled it open.
There was Mia, in the same-colored scrubs as before, only these were clean and fresh.
Her hair was smooth and shining, and the circles under her eyes had faded.
A large tote bag was hanging on her shoulder.
She looked good. I’d started to smile when a high-pitched voice brought my gaze down.
“Hi! I’m Arne. School is closed because there’s no ’lectricity. It’s like a snow day, only without snow.”
I looked back up at Mia. Her smile was tentative, unsure. “This is my son. Like he said, there was some issue with the power—the school has none, so they canceled classes. You said I could bring him…”
Her posture was rigid. If she’d had another option, she’d have taken it. But it didn’t matter—I didn’t require Mia to do a lot, so having the boy here wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe it would even be a good buffer, till we could be comfortable around each other.
“I’ll be good,” Arne promised. “I have books and some Lego and Mom said I could play on her phone all I wanted, which will be a lot.”
I looked down at the kid again. He was blond, with bright blue eyes. A smattering of freckles over his cheeks and a missing tooth in his big smile. It was strange, seeing this evidence that Mia had a life while I was gone.
“I’m Justin,” I said. “I’ll try to be good too.”
He laughed, loudly. Mia rubbed his hair with one hand. “We’ll all be good, okay?” She looked at me, brows raised.
I nodded. I’d told her she could bring her kid. It was fine. I stepped back and Arne raced in, Mia following.
“Where do you want him to hang out?”
Currently he had paused at the opening to the living room, staring, head cocked and eyes bright.
“Wherever. Maybe not in my bedroom, but anywhere else should be okay.”
“Arne!” The boy turned to look at his mom. “Don’t go upstairs unless you ask first. Or in the basement.”
“Okay. Can I have your phone now?” He held a hand out expectantly.
“How about you sit with your books while I talk to Mr. Johnson. I might need to make some notes on the phone.”
He twisted up his mouth. Was he going to have a tantrum?
“Okay.” He dropped onto the couch and grabbed a book out of his bag. He pulled up his legs, crossing them, and opened the book on his lap.
That was easy. I turned my attention back to Mia. She was close enough that I could smell—shampoo, maybe? Not perfume, but something clean. “Good morning. Thanks for coming.”
She raised a brow. Of course she came—this was her job. “Do you need something to eat?”
I hesitated.
Mia rolled her eyes. “Justin, you’re paying me to work for you. So, tell me what work you need.”
She was right. I turned to the kitchen and she followed. “A protein smoothie to start.”
Mia set down her purse on the table. “Tell me where everything is.”
It was awkward, giving Mia instructions.
Like I was her supervisor. Except when I was on the ice, I didn’t tell people what to do.
She didn’t react, following my directions like I was her employer, which I kinda was.
She made the smoothie, and then, when I was too uncomfortable to pick something for breakfast, pulled out eggs.
“Make more, if you and your son want some. I’ve got lots of eggs, butter, cheese, bread…”
Her head was starting to shake a no when her son wandered in. “Eggs?”
I swear, the look on his face was like an orphan from Oliver Twist or Annie. “Your mom is making some. Do you want any?”
He nodded before Mia could intercept him.
“Go ahead.”
She frowned but cracked more eggs into the bowl. And with a bit of urging, finally ate a piece of the toast she’d prepared after I brought out bread and tried to do it myself.
There were no eggs left in the pan when we were done.
Arne had a healthy appetite. I wasn’t sure how old he was.
Was he big or small compared to the other kids?
Did he get enough to eat? Should I try to make sure I had food on hand for Mia to take home with her?
My chin itched, and I reached to scratch it with my right hand.
Arne noticed the cast. “How did you hurt your hand? Did you fall out of a tree?”
I was tempted to smile, but held it in. “I hit someone. It was stupid.”
Mia’s lips tightened. Should I not have told the truth? Not like there wasn’t video out there showing exactly what I’d done.
“Why didn’t you talk to him first?” Arne asked, chin on hand as he waited for my answer.
“I told you it was stupid. I was stupid to do it.”
“I’m not allowed to say stupid. Did he get hurt?”
My lips twitched. “Not as much as me.”
Arne was still examining my cast, brain churning. “Did he hit you?”
“No.” Not physically.
“Did he call you names?”
“Arne!” Mia frowned at him. “It’s not polite to ask.”
Arne looked puzzled. “But the teacher always asks the kids in class that when they fight.”
I watched Mia, curious how she’d handle that.
“Your teacher has a responsibility to make sure you understand what you should and should not do, so she’s allowed to ask personal questions. She’s in charge of the classroom and needs to make sure no one gets hurt or bullied.”
Arne sighed. “It’s one of those things adults can do to us but not the other way around, right?” The kid was sharp.
Mia gave in. “Right. Sorry, kiddo, but that’s part of life.”