Chapter Twenty Three
Saint
It’s the last day of school in the first week of June.
I’m waiting outside, leaning against my car, chatting with some of my teammates who also have kids here about Organized Team Activities and getting prepared for camp.
Presley and I sent out an announcement to the team about our marriage, and everyone seems to be happy for us, which we appreciate, but they don’t know all the circumstances. We’ll keep that private.
Out of the corner of my eye, I start to see kids filter out of the school doors.
“There’s mine.” I nod toward the kids. “I’ll see you in the gym bright and early tomorrow,” I wave as I walk away.
“Later, Saint,” Ray Owens, one of our linebackers, says, as his son runs up and wraps his arms around my buddy’s legs.
I watch Remy come toward me. His backpack is hanging off one shoulder, a manila envelope clutched in his hand, and a careful smile on his face.
I crouch down right here on the sidewalk, arms open for a hug.
“Well, how does it feel to be going into second grade?” I ask him.
He wraps his little arms around my shoulders, burying his face into my neck. I can feel his smile against my skin, so I know he’s okay.
When he pulls back, he’s smiling wide.
“Here.” He hands me the envelope.
I open the clasp and pull out his final report card. I scan through the subjects, and he’s gotten all A’s and one B.
“This is amazing, Rem,” I say, smiling at him.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
I get to the bottom and read the teacher’s comments, and my throat goes tight as I read.
Remy has shown tremendous resilience this year. He’s kind, hardworking, and a wonderful and helpful friend to his classmates. He’s also been a great helper for me. I hope he has a great summer. - Mrs. M.
Remy has always been a friendly little guy, so I’m not surprised by her comments, but after the past six months he’s had, knowing he’s adjusting to school makes me happy.
I know he’s made friends at school, friends from hockey, and a new group from his baseball team. He’s also become buddies with a lot of my teammates’ kids.
He must see something on my face that worries him, because he puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay?”
“Okay?”
His shoulders lift.
I pull him into my arms so fast he makes a surprised sound.
“Buddy, this is incredible.”
He hugs me back, his little hands gripping the back of my shirt.
“You’re not just smart,” I say against his hair. “You’re tough. You worked so hard. You’re a good friend and helper to your teacher. I’m so very proud of you.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I feel the way he melts into me.
I stand and brush a hand over his hair. “I think this deserves ice cream.”
He nods. “I think so too.”
“Okay, let’s go celebrate!”
Thirty minutes later, we pull into the drive just as Presley and Rhyan are getting out of the car.
When Rhyan sees us, she starts jumping up and down, waving.
“Hey!” Presley looks over and smiles when we get out of my truck.
“Hi, Presley,” Remy says happily. “I got good grades and graduated to second grade, so we got ice cream.”
Rhyan gasps. “I grad-ew-ated.”
“You sure did. You were the top of the class in snack time,” Presley teases.
Rhyan nods. “It was tough, Sera was on my tail.”
I scoop her up and tuck her under my arm like a football. “Don’t worry; we brought some home for you and Presley too.”
She squeals.
Remy laughs.
And for a second, I revel in the fact that the kids are smiling and seem … happy. This is how our summer is starting.
An ice cream celebration, with a sticky Rhyan, and Remy asking if he can frame his report card.
“Of course we can,” Presley says.
“I think my mom would’ve liked this.”
Presley holds up a hand. “I think we just got some new frames for your rooms. Let me go see if we have one in the right size.”
She comes back into the kitchen looking like she’s holding the Lombardi Trophy. “Got it!”
We set it beside a picture of Savannah, Chris, and the kids in the family room. Remy stands there a minute staring at them.
“What do you think Mom would say if she saw my report card?” he asks quietly.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “She’d say you were beyond awesome.”
Rhyan looks up from where she’s arranging plastic dragons on the counter. “Mommy would say I’m a queen.”
Presley smiles. “Definitely.”
I look back at the photo. My sister is smiling, and Chris’s arm is around her. The kids are tucked between them. I feel the ache hit, but it doesn’t take me under as much anymore.
We talk about them every day. Sometimes, it’s just little things, like Savannah’s favorite song. Or how Chris used to burn pancakes and try to cover the black spots with whipped cream.
Sometimes the kids cried. And sometimes we all did. Then there were times Presley held all three of us.
There are more laughs now though. More of our stories that don’t end in sobs. More memories when Remy remembers something funny and smiles first.
It feels like progress. Maybe slow and fragile, but progress all the same.
The rest of June was busy. Then Alie and Liam got married yesterday. The wedding was beautiful and mildly chaotic. Liam looked at Alie like she hung the moon. Alie cried before the vows, but denied it after and threatened Aston for mentioning it at the reception.
Presley and I danced under the lights. Remy and Rhyan danced with Sera and a whole slew of kids of Liam’s friends from Walker University, where he played in college. Rhyan convinced one of the kids to bow to her all night. And Remy laughed a lot.
This morning, Alie and Liam left for a short honeymoon, and we kept Sera with us. Which is how we end up with three kids, too many bags, and a plan to spend a few days at the Grants’ house in the Hamptons before training camp swallows the rest of the summer.
Evelyn and Dennis are coming up to stay at my house while Presley and I are at camp. We’ve stuck to our plan with calls, visits, shared calendars, and lots of pictures from school and sports events. We want to make them feel needed, and really, the kids need them too, which matters more.
“Are we almost there?” Rhyan whines.
“Yep, just a few more minutes until we get to the road that takes us to the house.” Presley looks into the backseat.
“Geez, Ry. Just sit still.” Remy grumps.
“I need to pee.” Rhyan wiggles in her seat.
Presley points to a road on the left, and I turn in.
“See, we’re here, then you can potty the minute we stop.” Presley touches her leg.
We pull up to the house, and I try to hide the shock I see on my face in the rearview mirror.
The Grants’ house in the Hamptons isn’t a house. It’s a country club pretending to be a family residence.
I stare out the window for a minute when I put the car in park. Presley gets out of the car and starts getting the kids out of the back seat.
The main house looks like something out of a magazine with white siding, wide porches, endless windows, and it’s perfectly angled toward the ocean, like the view was personally commissioned.
“Holy shit,” I say under my breath.
I get out of the car and start gathering the bags from the trunk.
Presley’s already inside with the kids, but she leaves the door open for me.
When I walk in with the first load, a man meets me at the door.
“I apologize, Mr. St. Clair. I was in the back of the house, and I didn’t hear you arrive.”
“Uh …” I look at him and wonder if I should know who he is. “It’s no problem. I can take care of it.” After I set the luggage down, I hold out my hand. “You can call me Wyatt.”
“Pleasure, sir. Jonathan,” he says, shaking my hand. “I’m the groundskeeper, but I also greet the Grants when they arrive to help with luggage.”
“I don’t mind bringing our bags in,” I say, starting to walk back out to the car.
He follows. “It’s my pleasure.”
I grab as much as I can and leave only a few lightweight items for him to carry.
When we get back inside the house, I’m not really sure where to put all the bags. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never been here, so I have no clue where I’m going.
“You can leave it here, sir. We’ll take your bags to your rooms.”
Remy comes running toward me. “This is like a hotel.”
“I know. It’s very nice, so we need to make sure not to run in the house and break anything, okay?” I ruffle his hair.
He runs away from me toward the windows along the back of the house, and I follow him.
“Can I go outside?” he asks.
“Yeah, just stay where I can see you, okay?”
“Okay, I will.”
“And don’t go near the pool until an adult is out there.” I holler after him.
He waves a hand over his head.
I stand at the window, and I can see the pool, guesthouses, tennis courts, manicured pathways, and the ocean stretching behind it all.
Presley puts her hand on my back.
I look over at her. “Your parents are …”
She takes her sunglasses off the neck of her shirt and puts them on. “Yeah, I know.”
“Doc, this isn’t a house.”
“Yes, it is. It has bedrooms, bathrooms, and a kitchen.” She smirks.
“This is a resort hotel.”
Rhyan and Sera come into the room. She’s now wearing pink sunglasses and a hat twice the size of her head.
“I’ll claim this castle.”
I point to Rhyan. “See. She gets it.”
Presley laughs and reaches for Sera’s hand.
The girls walk outside, and Remy runs up to us, talking to the girls.
“There’s a pool!”
“And a beach,” Presley says.
“Der’s courts too,” Sera adds proudly, like she personally installed them.
Rhyan looks up at Presley. “Do we have swords?”
“No swords,” Presley and I say at the same time.
Rhyan sighs. “So, vacation has limits?”
“Mimi and Poppy are here!” Presley’s mom shouts as she walks out of the house to meet us.
Sera runs toward her, and Kate opens her arms and catches her. “There’s my peanut.”
James walks out next. “Hello everyone!” He claps. “Who’s hungry?”
“Me!” All the kids yell in unison and run toward the house.
Presley takes my hand. “Let’s go eat.”
I nod.
“Relax. Have fun.”
I remember James vaguely telling me that.