Chapter 27
Changes
Hildy
Two days into our new routine, and I already understand why parents look permanently exhausted and constantly sentimental at the same time. Lucy is not just thriving; she loves school, and she is so happy that it brings tears to my eyes, if I allow them.
When she and Lenzin walk into the house, he looks a mix between stunned, slightly overwhelmed, and amused, but never annoyed, not even when it continues for the entire night until she passes out after two pages into a book.
“In the reading corner, we get to pick our own books, but not the big kid books yet. My new friends Nicholas, Gabriel, and Wren are three twins and own half of a big apple. They got two dads and one mom and.” She stops and looks at me. “Am I gonna have two dads?”
Allow me to interpret. Dean Costello owns the Bears. He and Cody Warren, a pro football player, are in a relationship with Drew Daniels, Coach D’s twin sister. They all went to college together at Lincoln University and have triplets, now also known as three twins.
I say, “Nope, I don’t think so.” As Lenzin simply says, “No.”
She looks back at me, “‘Cause you only love Lenzin Faulker, number nine, right defense for the Brooklyn Bears, my Daddy?”
“That sounds about right.” I try not to laugh as I answer.
“Are you married?” she asks.
I freeze, Lenzin chuckles and tells her, “We aren’t yet. We’ve been too busy, but one day life will slow down and God willing, your mommy will say yes.”
“Cool.” She climbs onto the stool, and he helps her onto her seat. “Mila’s dad plays defense, and Carter’s mom brings the best snacks. Can we bring a snack one day too?”
“Of course,” I say, already devising a plan to wow a bunch of three to five-year-olds, and beat Carter’s mom out of top spot.
“We learned the letter B, but I already knew B because Bears and because Daddy plays for the Bears and—”
She yawns mid-sentence. Not just any yawn, a full-body, dramatic yawn that nearly knocks her sideways.
“You’re tired,” I say, smiling.
“I am not,” she insists, blinking hard like she can physically fight sleep.
But she is. Her cheeks are flushed, her movements are slower, and she’s got a case of the sillies.
At dinner she tells Lenzin all about her “new team.” That’s what she calls her class.
“There are lots of hockey kids,” she says proudly. “But I’m the only one with red hair like this.”
She flips it over her shoulder, and he bites back a grin.
“She’s making friends fast.” I tell him.
“Did we ever doubt she would,” he chuckles, watching her the way he does, with awe. Like he can’t quite believe she’s real. He’s not alone, I feel the same.
After dinner, she heads down to brush her teeth, and he pulls me gently against the counter.
“You’re going to be in my bed,” he says quietly.
I lift a brow. “Am I?”
“And Lucy’s room needs to be upstairs too.”
“She loves her room,” I remind him.
“She’ll love it upstairs better, there’s a walk-in closet, the rooms bigger, and the bathtub has jets.”
“More space. Closer to the other bedrooms. A better layout. How can I argue that?”
“You can’t.” He smiles, kissing my forehead. “Doesn’t have to be right now. Just promise me soon.”
Soon.
A week later, the house is full, but not with hockey players, with women in soft sweats and oversized team hoodies. Women who, like Lenzin, were brought to me by fate.
It’s the first of three away games, keeping the Bears on the road for six days. Winnipeg, Chicago, and Minnesota.
Nalani arrives with sparkling water and a container of cut fruit, as if she’s hosting a prenatal wellness retreat.
I very much appreciate that. She’s glowing in that unfair way pregnant women sometimes do.
The way I feel like I do, but only on the weekends when life slows down.
Claudia is balancing her diaper bag and Savannah nursing in motion.
No wine. Just hydration and exhaustion, and that calm strength that comes from keeping a tiny human alive with your body and balancing a career she worked hard to obtain, and loves.
Sofie brings a perfect charcuterie because of course she does, and Noelle has takeout because “no one is cooking during a six-day stretch.”
We settle onto the couch.
Lucy is asleep, school still knocking her out by seven most nights. She made a paper “Go Bears” sign and taped it to the inside of her bedroom door so “Daddy can feel it from Canada.” But insisted we send a picture just in case. He loved it.
“Six days.” Nalani sighs, adjusting a pillow behind her back.
“Six days and three time zones,” Noelle mutters.
“The beginning of a long stretch that always feels longer than it looks on paper.” Sofie sighs, and they all look at me.
I shake my head, “I’m new to this, and don’t take this wrong, but I don’t hate the idea of having that time to focus on Lucy and school, and sleep. God, I miss sleep.” I sigh.
They all laugh, and Claudia says, “Get it now while you can.”
Nalani shakes her head. “I’m freaking out about Koa being gone after the break. He’s going to be so much calmer than me about everything.”
“That’s when you text Claudia like I did when Lucy had a fever,” I tell her.
“I’d be vetting nannies now,” Sofie states, and we all look at her. “What? I had one and turned out fine.”
“I mean, sort of,” Noelle jokes.
Sofie elbows her, and we all laugh.
“Are things going well with you two?” Claudia asks.
I nod, trying to fight back a smile, “He’s wonderful, but it’s happening so quickly.”
“What part?”
“All of it.” I close my eyes. “To be honest, I worry that these feelings are.” I sigh and shrug.
“Aleks says he’s in love,” she looks at the others, “We all see it.”
I turn to the TV as the camera cuts to warmups. Lenzin glides across the ice as if he owns it. Even on TV, you can tell when he’s locked in. There’s a stillness to him before the game starts. Controlled and focused.
“He looks good,” Claudia says quietly.
He looks better than good; he always does.
“He looks like he’s got something to prove,” Sofie adds.
I tuck my legs beneath me, “He wants us to share a room. I worry about how Lucy will feel because I’d need to move Lucy upstairs, too. She’s had a lot of change.”
“I’ve always hated the term, kids are resilient, but when it’s in an environment that they know they’re loved, it isn’t harmful, it’s simply just change.”
I nod. “I think I’d like to do it while he’s gone.”
Every head turns.
“A nice surprise,” Claudia says, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“I already started,” I admit.
Noelle grins. “I love that he doesn’t know.”
“He asked for soon, but not a date.”
“You hit him with emotion, and he may short-circuit,” Sofie says.
I laugh softly, “Payback then.”
Nalani agrees gently. “The best kind.”
I clear my throat, because I’d rather get their input on Lucy’s bedroom, because I can see where this would work its way to mine and his.
My old roommates and I finally found a day to meet up and had lunch yesterday, and it went well there immediately, especially after they searched his name on the internet.
“I showed her the room tonight, and we talked about what she would like to change to make it feel like it was hers. She said she liked the color sage,” I giggle, “Oddly specific.”
“And a good choice,” Sofie states.
“We talked about more space for books, and her own reading space, like at school, but smaller.” I smile. “She walked in, looked around, and said, ‘This is where I’m supposed to be now.’”
Claudia presses a hand to her chest. “Stop it. That’s adorable.”
“It is, but is it too much too soon for her?”
“How does it feel for you?” Claudia asks.
“I kept waiting for it to feel reckless,” I admit. “Like I was making some impulsive romantic decision that would unravel in six months.”
“And?” Sofie prompts.
“He doesn’t make it feel that way at all. He makes it feel measured. Intentional. Not frantic.”
On screen, Lenzin lays a clean hit and skates away like it was nothing.
“That’s not rushing,” Nalani says. “That’s wanting his family close.”
Claudia shifts her baby gently against her shoulder, patting softly. “He’s not trying to take something from you. He’s trying to build with you.”
I nod.
“I want him to walk in after this road trip and see it done,” I say. “Lucy settled. Her room upstairs. Our room… ours.”
Noelle nods to the ice as they line up for puck drop. “He’s going to be calm, even though inside he won’t be.”
“He is,” I agree. “He’ll do that controlled face. And then he’ll stand in the doorway and take it in like it’s something fragile.”
“And then?” Sofie asks.
“And then he’ll probably kiss me like I just scored the winning goal.”
Nalani laughs. “Good. You deserve that.”
The puck drops, and the room shifts into game mode. We cheer. We analyze. We groan when Ottawa scores first.
Between plays, my gaze drifts upstairs. The bigger space, but shared rooms.
On the screen, Lenzin scores late in the second period. We all leap up, Nalani clutching her water bottle, Claudia carefully bouncing Savannah, all of us whispering, shouting as if the men on that ice can actually hear us.
Six days. Then he comes home. And when he does, I want him to see that while he was out there defending the net, I was here defending something too.
Not from threats or from doubt, because I chose us. I love us, and there is no doubt, I love that man, number nine, Lenzin Faulker, right defense for the Brooklyn Bears, my love.
Lucy is at school. Lenzin is somewhere between Winnipeg and Vegas, Erin is coming from Elmira, landing at JFK at four pm for a conference in the city, and Scotti has insisted on driving me to pick Lucy up and then swing by the airport.
“I’m already on the clock,” she’d said. “Might as well make it efficient.”
I kind of adore her.
This is the first Friday I haven’t been buried in the library or filling in for someone else’s class. My thesis writing and Noelle’s edits can wait. Tomorrow or perhaps Sunday.