15. Deacon
“Does it have a pool?” Kennedy asks through my phone as I stand in the cereal aisle of the grocery store, waiting for her to tell me what she wants. “Mom and Shaun always say no when I ask if we can get a pool.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose as I stare at all the chocolate cereal options in front of me. “Listen, kid. It’s on the lake. It doesn’t have a pool. But it does have a kitchen with bowls and spoons. So I’m going to need you to tell me what kind of cereal you want me to buy.”
I haven’t even made it back to the house yet.
Not sure why I thought it would be a good idea to grocery shop before I get there.
Now I’m just hungry and frustrated in a store full of people.
This is why God invented online shopping.
Fuck this shit.
“I don’t eat cereal anymore. Mom said it’s not good for me. She’s on a protein shake kick again, and between you and me, they’re really gross.” I can picture the look on her face so clearly, she could be standing next to me. Kennedy is really particular about what she’ll eat and has always been on the small side. We’re constantly talking to the pediatrician about her not gaining weight. That’s why when we find something she’ll actually eat, I let her have it. Even if it’s chocolate cereal.
“Okay. Got it. Mom’s protein shakes suck. I’ll see what I can do about it.” I add three different chocolate cereals to my cart, knowing she’s eaten each of them before. Can’t hurt to have them in the pantry. “Got any snack requests?” I ask as I move on to the next aisle.
She answers, “Popcorn,” just as my hand reaches for the box of microwave popcorn I always keep at my house for her and grab two just to be on the safe side. “Can I have apples too?”
“Already grabbed a few.” I add a bag of Doritos for myself and turn down the next aisle.
“Did you get the Granny Smiths?” she asks, like this is my first rodeo.
“I did. And I’ll make sure it’s the good peanut butter too,” I assure her.
“Creamy, not chunky,” she adds.
“Yup.” I might not have gotten to spend every day of Kennedy’s life in the same house as her, but my kid will never wonder whether her father is paying attention to her. She has always been my first priority, and I want her to feel that with every action, even if it’s something as small as knowing her favorite peanut butter.
“Thanks, Dad.” She’s quiet while I pick out steaks for tonight, waiting on the other end of the phone for me to finish speaking to the butcher. “So... Mom said I’m going to meet your girlfriend this weekend.”
Damn it, Isla.
I haven’t even discussed our plans with Brynlee, and now I’m talking about them with Kennedy at the grocery store. I wasn’t even sure if we were really going for this weekend, but I guess that answers that.
“Are you okay with that?” I ask before confirming anything, unsure of the protocol here since I’ve never introduced anyone to Kennedy before.
“Does it matter if I’m not?”
My kid is nine going on nineteen.
“Yes. It will always matter,” I reassure her, looking around to make sure I’m not drawing attention to myself. “Your feelings will always matter to me.”
“I guess it’s fine. But I don’t know her, so it’s kinda weird.”
“The best way to get to know someone is to spend time with them, sweetheart. But your mom and Shaun and I will all be there with you.” So not the fucking conversation I want to be having in public.
Kennedy is quiet for a little too long for my liking. “Do you not want to meet her?”
“No,” she’s quick to answer. “It’s just... different.”
“Different isn’t always bad.”
“I know. But... I’m not gonna call her mom.”
“Ken—” My words get stuck in my throat. This kid is getting so much thrown at her right now. “You have a mother. And she’s incredible. But the same way that you have me as your awesome dad and love Shaun as your stepdad, you can have Mom as your mom, and you can like Brynlee without feeling guilty for it.” Holy fucking hell, I’m dodging bullets left and right, and it’s barely noon.
“I guess,” she muses, less than enthused. “Can we get a dog?”
And just like that, the subject changes, and I add a few bottles of wine and some beer to my cart. I think I’m going to need a drink by the end of today.
Iwouldn’t call myself a relocation pro, but I’ve done it enough in my life to be comfortable in a new home pretty quickly. And this house makes it easier than any before it. The Kingstons have set me up in the exact lakefront home Brynlee said they would. A one-year lease, covered by King Corp., is in my contract with the option to buy at any point during that time. I’m grateful Hunter thought to have that part added because this place is great. It’s got character, space, a view, and one hell of a security system.
It’s a mix between high-end and homey. Reclaimed wood beams stretch across vaulted ceilings, and whites, grays, blues, and greens dominate most spaces but don’t feel untouchable. An interior designer’s hand is on every inch. And they clearly have better taste than I ever could, so I’m happy to appreciate it and happier that there’s very little I have to change in this five-bedroom, six-bathroom beast of a house. With a home gym, theater room, and an office with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and one of those ladders on wheels attached, no luxury has been missed.
It’s also got a balcony that wraps around the entire second and third floors of the house which I plan on bending Brynlee over when she gets here tonight.
But first things first. I finish unloading the groceries, making mental notes of the things I missed. Like paper plates and napkins. Staples in my life because seriously, does anyone actually enjoy doing dishes?
I’ve just finished seasoning the steaks when a knock on the glass kitchen door catches my attention, especially when I look up and find a familiar face standing on the other side, holding a six pack of beer in one hand and a tray of cookies in the other.
I open the door, and Jace Kingston lifts his hands up to me. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
“Thanks, man. Come on in.” I step aside and watch him put the cookies down, then take out two beers and offer me one.
“It’s been a long time, man. Congratulations on the job.”
I take the beer with a laugh. “News moves fast around here.”
“If you think it moves fast in this town, you should see the speed of light it hits in my family.” He clinks his beer with mine. “I was glad you took the job. You were my first pick when Max asked. Now I’m hoping the beers loosen you up, so I can be your first pick.”
“Not following you, man.” Jace is a solid decade older than me. But I’ve looked up to him. He was the first professional athlete I ever knew. But that was because I knew him before he was drafted. “I thought you were retired. You want back on the ice?”
“Nah, man. My wife would have my balls if I thought about playing again. One too many surgeries made sure that’s not in the cards. But I’m fucking bored as shit. And I only know one thing. Hockey. I know it fucking well. And I know this team even better. Let me help you win the next Cup.”
I look at Jace Kingston and wonder how this is my life.
When did I get to the point where one of the greatest guys to ever lace up a pair of skates is asking me for a job?
“I don’t have final say. I’ve got to run it by Max and get his okay before I could bring you on, but I think you’d be a real asset to have on this team. Any issues with you and your brother I should know about? I mean, you could have gone directly to him, right?” I’m not sure of this family’s dynamic yet, and don’t want to fuck it all to hell on my first day as head coach if I can help it.
“Nah, man. Max and I are good. You’ll like working with him. He’s a great GM. But as someone who’s played the game, I didn’t want to go to the GM. I wanted to go to the coach. I know I was a damn good player. But I’ve never coached. I’ll be low man on the totem pole. I don’t want your job. But I want a job. I don’t like not being part of the team. And it’s your team now.”
“Good answer. I can respect that.”
Jace’s grin grows. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I promised my wife, Indy, I wouldn’t be long. She and my daughter, Saylor, made the cookies. The boys wanted to come and meet you too. They weren’t thrilled when I said not this time.”
“Oh yeah? Little hockey players?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.
“Cohen isn’t so little anymore. He turned seventeen last month, and fuck if he’s not giving me a run for my money. He was pushing for the draft last year, and his mother and I want him to go to college. Max is loving my pain because he and I had the same fight at his age.” He laughs with a shrug. “Saylor’s twelve, and the twins are nine. How old’s your daughter, Deacon?”
“Same age as your twins. She just turned nine. Looks like she’s actually going to be moving in with me soon,” I tell him, thinking maybe she could make a few friends. Maybe that will help her with the transition.
“We’ll have to do a BBQ. A welcome to the neighborhood. Prepare for the shit show party,” he tells me as he moves around the kitchen and throws out his beer. “I’m sure Indy will be all over it. She loves parties. Any reason to throw one makes her happy.”
My doorbell rings, and we both look up.
Fuck. I doubt Brynlee wants her uncle to know she’s here.
Not yet.
“Well, I took up enough of your time. We’ll talk soon.” He shakes my hand.
“Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks for stopping by.”
I wait until Jace lets himself out the back door before moving to the front door and letting Brynlee in. “Hey, beautiful.”
She blushes sweetly and walks through the door, then drops her purse on the floor, and we both move.