Chapter 11
Blair
At least it’s almost the weekend. It’s been a long week, mostly because of a certain Swedish hockey player.
I haven’t seen or heard from Magnus since Sunday.
It shouldn’t be bothering me, but it is.
He was at an away game on the evening of the hockey skills clinic this week, and even though I knew he wouldn’t be there, I was still irrationally angry when I saw the coaches for the night and he wasn’t one of them.
Damned hormones. They’ve taken me from clearheaded and logical to feral and thirsty.
Thanks to Jules, I know when the team’s practices and other events outside of games are. The team delivered gifts to a local children’s hospital this morning, and there’s a home game tomorrow night.
I keep scrubbing the pan in my kitchen sink, even though I’ve cleaned every inch of it already. Magnus said he’d come over for Monopoly night, and he did. He didn’t promise me or the boys anything beyond that. We had fun, Eli won the game, and then Magnus left.
It’s been hard to focus all week because I’ve been checking my phone far too often for a call or text from him. I’m behind on studying. But tonight was the pretend deadline I set.
If he doesn’t call by Friday, he’s not interested. Which is for the best, because I don’t want a man in my life right now. It would have been nice to know a man wanted me, even if it never went anywhere, but it’s not meant to be.
I shake my head, wondering how I can be badass and smart in every other area of my life. Right now I feel weak and pathetic.
“Mom, tell Coop he’s not allowed in the basement with us.”
Eli comes into the kitchen, frowning. He’s having two friends stay the night, and he’s been going back and forth with his brother over the ground rules since yesterday.
“I told him,” I say, forcing myself to set down the steel wool pad and start rinsing the pan I’ve scoured like a surgeon prepping for the operating room.
“He said he’s going to play cars down there and sleep on the couch.”
“No, he’s not.”
My phone rings and I lunge at it, my heart practically stopping when I see Magnus’s name on the screen. I can’t answer on the first ring, so I just hold the phone, waiting.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Eli asks.
“I am.” I wait another second and then slide my finger over the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey Blair, it’s Magnus. How are you?”
“Oh, hey. I’m good. How are you?”
I sound so relaxed and casual; he’s probably wondering if he just woke me up. Perfect. I don’t want him to have any idea I was just stress-scrubbing over him.
“Pretty good. It’s been a week.”
“Did you get your laundry back?”
He hums a note of amusement. “I did, but then I had them wash everything again.”
“Really? I can’t imagine why.”
“Are you and the boys busy tonight? I thought we could go bowling and out for dinner.”
My stomach does a full rotation. It means more than he could possibly know that he included my sons in his invitation. And it makes it harder to have to pass.
“I wish we could, but Eli’s having some friends stay the night and I’m studying for a test I have on Monday.”
“Oh. Can I bring dinner over and help you study?”
I can’t be sure, but I may be pregnant now. He wants to come help me study on a Friday night, when he could be out having fun?
“Um ... sure, if you want. It’s boring, though.”
He hums with amusement again. “There’s nothing boring about being at your house. What can I bring over that the kids would like?”
“Pizza is always good.”
“How about pizza and wings?”
“That sounds great.”
“Okay. See you in about an hour?”
“Okay, see you then.”
I end the call, immediately texting Jules.
Blair: Magnus is coming over. He wants to help me study.
Jules: Son of a whore, we’re going to dinner with one of Noel’s former teammates and his wife, or I’d come get the boys for a sleepover.
Blair: It’s not like that. He’s bringing food over for all the kids.
Jules: Are you new to womanhood? FFS. If he’s bringing over food and helping you study, he wants to pet the kitty.
Blair: My kitty has cobwebs. And like I said, my kids are here.
Jules: At least get in some quality flirting. And wear the black top you got when we went shopping.
Blair: You really think so? I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.
Jules: Bitch, you can’t wear sweats and old t-shirts every time you see him. That’s not trying at all.
Blair: I’ve been trying to play it nonchalant.
Jules: Well stop. He’s a really good guy. This is the first night off he’s had in a while, and he called to say he wants to spend it with you.
Blair: My kids are here. And Eli’s having friends over. It’s not a date.
Jules: God you’re exhausting. Your vag is basically a dusty antique. I can lead you to a hot man who wants you, but I can’t make you drink.
Blair: Okay, I’ll wear the top. But with pajama pants.
Jules: Bitch I will list your vag on Ebay right now. HARDLY USED! MAKE OFFER!
I snort-laugh as I type.
Blair: I was kidding about the pajama pants. He’s made me insane for almost a week now, it’s time to repay the favor.
Jules: That’s my girl. Make him crawl.
I set down my phone and take a deep breath. She’s right. I’ve felt helpless and worried all week, but I have more power than I’ve given myself credit for. There’s a pretty, desirable woman buried beneath my defensive, sarcastic mom armor.
I’m breaking her out tonight. Not wanting a man in my life right now is a general thing, but Magnus is specific. I refuse to bring any man into my bedroom when my kids are home, which is why I haven’t been with a man since Coop’s dad left. But I can make Magnus want an invitation into my bedroom.
As soon as Eli’s friends arrive and I’ve talked to their parents and settled the boys downstairs, I run to my bathroom to take a shower, letting Coop watch a movie in my bed.
Thanks to Jules’s room of beauty products, I have everything I need to scrub, pluck, and polish myself thoroughly. I wear loose-fitting jeans with a few holes and the formfitting, cap-sleeve black top Jules picked out for me. Black flats complete the outfit.
I blow dry my hair and keep it down, adding a few curls. Then I turn on one of my sister’s makeup tutorials for a natural look and fly through the steps.
I admire myself in the mirror when I finish, adding a spritz of perfume. I look good.
When I walk into the bedroom, Coop says, “Why do you look fancy?”
I furrow my brow. “You think I look fancy?”
“You look like you’re going to a parent-teacher conference.”
“Well, good news, bud—I’m not. And more good news—Magnus is coming over.”
Coop bounces from his stomach to his knees in a quick, fluid motion. “He is?”
“He’s bringing pizza and wings and helping me study.”
Coop’s happy expression drops with disappointment. “I want to play with him.”
“This is a chill night. I’m going to study for about an hour and then maybe we can all play a card game or watch a movie.”
“Okay. But not Eli and his friends, right?”
I gently pinch his chin between my thumb and forefinger. “They can play if they want. No one gets left out in this house, remember?”
“Eli left me out. He said I can’t come to the basement when his friends are here.”
That’s a valid point. “The rule is when you have friends over, that’s your time with them, not your brother’s. And the rule is the same for you when you have friends over.”
Coop had a bunch of boys over for a birthday sleepover last summer and it got wild. It took us two full days and nights to recover.
The doorbell rings, and Coop flies off the bed and out of the room to answer it. I follow, and when I see Magnus standing in our foyer with a tall stack of pizza boxes, excitement swirls in my stomach.
His eyes are on me when I get to the bottom of the stairs; I like the way he’s looking at me.
“You brought nine pizzas?” Coop cries.
“Six pizzas and ninety wings. Your mom said Eli’s having friends over, and I didn’t know how many people we’d have.”
I smile at him and say, “Two friends.”
He shrugs, amusement dancing in his sky-blue eyes. “Maybe you’ll have leftovers.”
Once we’re in the kitchen, I call up Eli and his friends, and Eli seems to really enjoy telling them our houseguest is a pro hockey player.
“You can come downstairs if you want,” Eli tells Magnus.
Coop’s jaw drops. I think his brain would short-circuit if Magnus went downstairs with Eli and his friends and I made him stay upstairs.
“Magnus is going to help me study for an hour,” I say. “If Coop can be included in whatever you guys are doing for an hour, we can all play a game after.”
“Monopoly!” Coop says.
“Something shorter than that,” I say.
Magnus stands beside me near the kitchen table, off to the side, while the boys fix themselves plates from the boxes spread out on the island.
“You look nice,” he says, his voice so soft only I can hear it.
“Thanks. You too.”
He’s wearing jeans, a green and brown flannel, and brown lace-up hiking boots. I like this rugged outdoorsman look on him.
“Thanks for bringing all this food,” I say.
“No problem.”
I’m not short, but my forehead is level with his shoulder. Having his solid, warm body just inches away is making my heart race. He has a very faint, woodsy smell that I want to lean closer to smell better.
“What are we studying?” he asks.
“Labor, delivery, and postpartum assessment checklists. I’m getting tested in the field on Monday and I need to make sure I remember everything I have to check for and monitor.”
“How’s it going in the obstetrics unit?”
“I like it a lot. It’s fast-paced, but I like that.”
The boys take their food to the basement and Magnus waits until I make a plate to get food for himself.
“How was your week?” I ask him.
“I should say it was good, I guess. That’s what people say. But it kind of sucked.”
“How come?”
He meets my eyes over the island. “I didn’t play as well as I would’ve liked, but mostly it was stress about my sister.”
“What kind of stress?”
He finishes loading up his plate, coming to sit across from me at the kitchen table before he answers.
“Elin’s three years younger than me; she’s twenty-eight. She was in a bad car accident when she was twenty and she has a TBI.”
“Oh, Magnus.” I gently squeeze the top of his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. It’s been a rough road. Elin was always athletic. She loved climbing and swimming. She was just getting into triathlons when the accident happened.”
Traumatic brain injuries can be mild or severe. It sounds like Elin’s has taken a lot from her.
“She rehabbed in Sweden for years. My mom lives about two hours away from that facility, so she was there with her often. But Elin was frustrated with her lack of progress. The TBI affected everything, physically and mentally. She’s got the heart and the will to work as hard as she has to to get better, but her body and her mind ... ”
“It’s so fucking hard.”
He nods. “So we moved her to a place in Berlin. They do more intensive therapy. Elin’s happier there.
She was able to walk with assistance and her speech was improving with therapy.
But this week ...” He shakes his head. “The doctors said she didn’t have a stroke, but she’s lost her speech gains. She’s angry and depressed.”
“That has to be hard for your mom.”
“Yeah. And I have to keep playing hockey. I haven’t seen her since June.”
I push my plate aside, not caring about eating any more. “Do your teammates know? Does Noel?”
He shakes his head. “No, and I don’t want them to. I don’t mean to be a bummer. You asked me how I am and it just came out.”
“Never say that. I won’t tell anyone, and I’m always here to listen if it helps.”
He hasn’t touched his food either. His gaze is locked with mine, a lock of hair covering one of his eyes as he says, “Everything about being near you helps.”