Chapter 53
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
boston
I swing the door open and a little body collides with my legs.
The oxygen leaves my lungs on impact, and my hand goes to the toque that’s messily plopped on his head.
Bennett tilts his chin up with a big, beaming smile, eyes the same colour as my own.
My heart aches in a way that I’ve grown familiar with when I think about this kid.
“Bennett, I told you to knock!” Kane barks from the back of the rental car.
“The door was opening!” Bennett argues back. His smile widens as he winks at me. “Sup, Uncle Boss?”
“Bennett Black,” I say, my voice calm despite the way I feel every emotion in my throat when I look at him, when I reach down to hug him back because he’s here. In the flesh. “The future center of the Pittsburgh hockey team.”
“I’ll give you an autograph for letting us stay with you,” he promises, patting my stomach like he’s doing me a favour, and then he pulls himself off me and rushes into my house.
I choke on a laugh. The kid has got spirit, that’s for sure. He’s going to have a mouth on him when he’s older and on the ice. I’m calling it now.
“Bennett!” Remi scolds after him, but she’s too busy rustling with their youngest and his diaper bag to chase after him. Her brown eyes snap to mine, full of apologies, but I just wave her off. It’s fine. This house needs some excitement and Bennett is willing to take on that job.
I head down the porch in my slippers, straight to my sister-in-law, who stops what she’s doing and readjusts her three-year-old on her hip. I smile, and she smiles back, but hers is laced with sadness. Maybe with a bit of hope, too.
I take her bags from her.
“Nice to see you, Rem.”
She reaches forward to place her hand on my arm, her thumb rubbing my sleeve. “Thank you for having us. They both haven’t stopped talking about it.”
Bennett and Kane.
“Of course,” I say, ignoring that knot of emotion in my throat. I glance up at the sandy-haired baby, who definitely takes after his mother. He’s got big, brown eyes, that are just like his dad’s, but his hair is all Rem. He grins at me. That’s all Bennett. “Who is this little guy?”
“This,” she says, bouncing him up and down on her hip, “is Moseley Miller Black.”
My brows shoot upward. Odd namesake, but who am I to judge what they name their kids?
I know that Bennett’s middle name is mine, and I’m not any more deserving of that honour than my older brother.
He’s just…more of a dick. With how sweet Moseley looks, I’m hoping he doesn’t end up like his cranky uncle Mills.
“Hi Moseley,” I say, holding out my hand. Remi laughs under her breath, especially when Moseley chooses to lift his hand to stick his fingers in his nose instead. She immediately rips his hand out of there, but I retract my own with a wince.
I’m not shaking the hand of a booger picker. No matter how cute he is.
I haul all her stuff inside and tell her to find Bennett while I help my brother with the rest. She looks ready to argue, but then she glances over her shoulder, watching Kane grunt and struggle behind the vehicle, and gives a reluctant nod.
She’s giving us a moment alone, I think.
“Kent!” Remi calls, and the five-year-old appears from behind Kane’s back. She holds out her hand for him and he immediately rushes for her, barking out a quick hello to me as he passes.
I walk to the trunk as Kane yanks another suitcase free. He drops it on the ground with a dip of the chin, so I grab the last one for him. He grunts as a thank you and slams the trunk shut, a tired breath leaving his mouth. Turning to me, his dark eyes scan my face.
He is still shorter than me, stockier too—but kinder, like he’s always been. That’s never changed. He’s got a warm smile and warm eyes. Always had those, too. A moustache now, which is a new development, but it does look pretty good on him. That thing didn’t exist during our FaceTime calls.
I wonder if he can grow out a good, thick beard like mine now. He never used to be able to grow anything, and it pissed him off to no end.
A smile slowly tugs at his lips. “You know, it’s really fucking unfair that you get a house this big and all the good looks in the family.”
I shoot him a look. “That farm you built is huge.”
He scoffs. “That thing is basically yours.”
No. It’s not. It’s not in my name and doesn’t have any ties to me, apart from my ugly history of growing up on the property. He built and paid for that house, I just bought the land for him all those years ago. It’s entirely his.
“It’s not fucking mine,” I grumble.
He sighs, crossing his arms in front of his chest. A moment of silence passes—a tense, awkward stare down happening between the both of us. “It’s good to see you.”
I swallow, dipping my chin. For a moment, I don’t know how to respond.
I usually go quiet and shut down completely when I’m overwhelmed with feelings I don’t know how to deal with.
But then I remember how good it felt to be honest with Ari, how I woke up lighter after letting myself feel that weight.
I can do the same thing here.
“I’m nervous.”
He cocks a brow. “That my kids are currently running loose in your multi-million dollar home, or that we’re going to have to spend some quality time together?”
I bite back a smile. “The second one.”
“Is now a bad time to tell you Miller is hiding in the back seat then?” he asks, wincing.
I bark out a laugh. The idea of cranky old Miller, in his suit and too-tight tie, crouching on the ground of a rental car full of carseats and discarded crackers is quite an image.
Kane grins, leaning forward to smack me on the shoulder. He keeps his hand there.
“I’m nervous too, man,” he says. “But it’s time. I’m done not knowing you.”
I inhale deeply and nod, hating the way that felt like a punch to the chest.
Kane pulls me toward him, and for the first time in years, I’m hugging my little brother.
I shut my eyes, winding my arms around his back, trying to force the emotion to a simmer.
My little brother. The only one I have left.
For a second, I do wish that Miller was actually hiding in that back seat.
He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s one of us.
We could…see if having a family is a possibility again.
I clear my throat when he pulls away, running a hand over my bottom jaw. “What the fuck did that kid do to deserve being Miller’s namesake, anyway?”
Kane chuckles, shaking his head. “You got Bennett, it was only fair.”
I guess it makes sense, even though Miller wants nothing to do with Kane or his family. Again, Kane is the nicest one out of the three of us. Miller probably doesn’t even know Moseley exists. I don’t think he’s spoken more than three words to Kane since his wedding all those years ago.
“Was Kent too happy as a baby to give it to him, then?” I ask, reaching for the handle of the suitcase.
Kane’s brow furrows as he angles his head. “Do you not know Kent’s middle name?”
I pause, taking a second to think about it. No. No, I don’t actually. If you haven’t gathered, I’m a terrible uncle.
Kane smiles gently, eyes searching mine. “It’s Ryan.”
I stare at him for a moment. That’s the second time that name has been uttered in the last few weeks and it still packs just as heavy of a punch.
I swallow, and Kane dips his chin, like he gets it.
He knows it’s exceptionally worse for me.
I found him. I saw him. Miller, too, because he was there to take care of me in the wake of it.
Miller forbade Kane from entering the living room when he tried to run in after us.
Kane didn’t have to see what we saw. Maybe that’s why he’s always been the happiest of us. The kindest.
“He’s probably the only one of us that deserves the honour,” I tell him quietly.
Kane shakes his head curtly, grabbing the remaining bags. “Talk about my brothers like that again, and I’ll kick your ass.”
“Okay, now how does that feel? Being at center ice in a professional arena?”
“I am realizing that I am very small.”
I huff a laugh, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “That’s it?”
“I’m going to be here one day, right, Uncle Boss?” he asks, staring out at the stands. “Like you?”
My heart swells.
“One day,” a voice says, sliding onto the ice. “Until then, you’re in my spot, kid.”
Bennett whirls around. He spots Lowesy gliding onto the ice with that big, dimpled smile, and he lets out a scream so loud that it echoes through the arena.
I jump, flinching at the sound, and as he barrels down the ice and nearly tackles my center to the ground, I realize this kid may have been lying to my face every time he told me that I’m his favourite player.
Two more bodies slide onto the ice behind him, but Bennet is too busy clinging to Lowesy to notice, beaming up at him and talking ten miles a minute, his legs dead weight behind him as Dec holds him up.
“Always the fanfare for Lowesy,” Forker drawls, skating by. He shakes his head, holding out his fist for my brother as he passes. Kane bumps his glove, snapping pictures of Bennett and Dec as he does. “In a few years, you might have better taste, little buddy.”
“Stick with the taste you have,” Saltzy grumbles, nodding at Kane.
Bennet slowly gets to his feet, glancing around. “Carter Forkerro and Callum Saltzman?”
“They wanted to meet you,” I say. They were more than happy to make this kid’s dreams come true. I barely had to ask. Saltzy is the one who talked Coach into letting us use the ice for this.
“I’m not that good,” Bennett offers, shooting me a panicked look. “I’m good for an eight-year-old.”
“I was good for an eight-year-old, too,” Declan says, leaning on his stick.
“Your uncle, too,” Kane adds.
“Let’s see what you got, kid,” Saltzy says, pushing all the pucks to the ice.
We play around for a couple of hours. Bennett is beaming from ear to ear. At first, he lingers near his dad, and then he is all about Lowesy, but by the end of it, he is my right hand man.
Remi is on the bench, taking pictures and letting Kent play in a safer area. Her smile is bright as hell, but she watches her husband more than she does her son. I think he might have needed this more than Bennett.
The boys sign a jersey for him, and I promise to get it signed by the rest of the team after tomorrow’s game.
I have another for Kent and Mose, too, even though one doesn’t much care for hockey and the other is too young to have an opinion.
I can’t give Bennett something and not the rest of them.
I’m determined to collectively become their favourite uncle.
The group of us, minus Saltzy, go out for dinner afterward.
Bennett insists on sitting next to me, but he asks Lowesy tons of questions and barely takes a second to come up for air.
They play the same position, and Lowesy is the best in the league.
Saltzy, too, but even an eight-year-old could tell which of the two was more approachable.
Plus, Lowesy has a star power that Saltzy doesn’t. A certain charm.
When we get back to the farmhouse, Moseley is fast asleep, and Kent is fighting for his life just to stay awake.
Remi quietly excuses herself to put them to bed.
Bennett, Kane, and I gather on the couch to watch The Mighty Ducks—Bennett’s choice.
He lasts fifteen minutes and half a bowl of popcorn before he passes out between us.
Kane slowly glances at me. “This was the best day of his life.”
I smile, glancing down at my nephew, messy dark hair in his face. “It’s up there for me, too.”
Kane reaches down, pushing that hair off his forehead, an act so nurturing that it tugs at my heart. “Me too. Though, watching you win that cup is hard to beat.”
My throat constricts at the acknowledgement. He’s been cheering me on for years—years—while I’ve been doing my best to pretend he doesn’t exist.
I bring my eyes back to my brother. “He’s a good kid, Kane. They all are. You did well with them.”
“A lot of it is Remi,” he admits quietly, still sweeping his hand over his son’s hair. “But…I’m a good Dad. I’d burn the world down for them. I worried about that…if I’d fuck this all up, but…I think I did okay.”
“More than okay,” I assure him. And it’s true. The love he shows his kids is unlike anything I could have expected from one of us. He’s a natural. He beat the odds, and I’m proud of him for it. That is much, much harder than winning a cup.
His dark eyes flicker to mine. “Thanks, Boss.”
I nod, glancing down at my nephew again, whose feet are in my lap. Pure. Innocent. Kind. Funny as hell, and talented beyond measure, too. Older than Ryan ever got to be, because he didn’t have parents like his dad did. He had his dad. He won.
“You’re good with them,” Kane says after some silence. I shrug, like it’s no big deal. It’s easy to be good with kids that you get to return right back to their parents. “I don’t know what you want in life, but if kids are on that list, I want you to know that you’d be a fantastic dad, Boston.”
I swallow, shaking my head in disagreement, still watching my nephew.
“You would be. You listen. You care. The fact that you worry about not being good enough is usually a good sign that you will be,” he says quietly.
I clear my throat, shaking my head again. “Not in the cards for me, man.”
He stares at me, so I reach for my beer, taking a swig. “Because of Mom and Dad, or because of Ryan?”
The realization stabs right through me. I’ve always known why I resented the idea of a family.
I didn’t want to wind up like my parents, ruining a generation of children because of my own problems. Life turns quickly.
Who is to say I don’t wind up travelling down the same fucking path as them, or worse, that my children do?
But… I never thought of Ryan as a reason.
Kane’s right. I barely survived losing a brother. What if I lost my child tragically? What if my child passed away, for one reason or another, before I did? I’m not so sure I’d ever be in one piece again. What if my partner did something to harm my kid? What if?
I sigh, my eyes burning into the TV. “I don’t know, Kane. Both.”
“Don’t let them take that from you, Boston,” he murmurs, reaching across his son to squeeze my shoulder. “They’ve taken enough.”