Chapter 29 Harlan
TWENTY-NINE
HARLAN
MARCH
I pulled my hat low as I stepped into the Iceplex. A wave of nostalgia almost knocked me over, memories of all the hours spent here growing up surfacing. But so much had changed. I was there for my . . . secret girlfriend?
I was there for Emma’s son, a barely-adult while I was, according to many sources, a full-fledged adult. I wasn’t the kid on the ice anymore. I was almost a stepdad? A stepdad-like figure?
I couldn’t identify the source of the lump in my throat. Was it the feeling that I didn’t belong there? Or was it more the fear of what it meant if I did belong there? After all, Liam had asked me to come. Not Emma. Liam.
Which, maybe he just wanted to flex to his friends that he knew me. If that’s what it took for him to warm up to me, fine, I guess.
I walked in a hair too late, because Emma, Liam, and her ex-husband were already on the ice with the other seniors and their families.
Each senior was announced and fun facts were shared about them, including what college they were going to.
Emma wiped a tear when they listed Liam’s stats for the season and Liam reached to hold her hand.
The motion choked me up. Liam loved his mom, and he wasn’t afraid to be affectionate with her.
I could imagine how emotional the moment must be for her.
She probably held his hand in countless parking lots and grocery stores, when he took his first steps.
How many practices had she spent in this same rink?
I thought of my own mom, of all the sacrifices she made to get me where I was, and felt the urge to jump in the car and go give her a hug.
But I also wanted to hold that woman on the ice who was barely holding it together.
“Liam Corrigan is undecided for his postgraduate plans, but he hopes to stay close to home in Ohio.”
Emma mumbled something to Liam and he laughed.
The ceremony ended, and Emma looked around for someone to take a picture. Other people were stepping out onto the ice, so I did the same.
I couldn’t read her expression when she saw me, but Liam looked happy to see me. “Hey, man.” I held out my fist for him to pound. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Liam said. “For coming.”
“Yeah, of course. You guys need a picture?”
“Yes. Thank you,” Jeff cut in. I expected him to give me a dirty look, but he was surprisingly cordial. I considered it a success, since the last time I saw him, he was telling me to stay away from Emma and Liam.
I snapped one of the three of them, then Liam said, “One with just Mom and me.”
I took that, one with Jeff’s new wife and Liam’s half-siblings, and then Liam beckoned me over. “Dad, take one of us with Royce.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Shut up. Get over here,” Liam said, waving me in again. I turned my ballcap backward so my face was clear for the picture, and walked their way. I put my arm around Liam and posed, Emma clinging to his arm on his opposite side.
We were the last family on the ice, and a few phones were lifted our way. I popped my hat forward again, but the damage was done. People recognized me. I might not have been recognized in Columbus proper, but at an ice rink? There was no escaping it. I hoped Emma wasn’t too embarrassed.
Hell, I hoped this wouldn’t have repercussions at work.
But what were the chances that it would get back to management? Unlikely.
And anyway, I could take the heat. I was more worried about Emma. I thought about how she said other moms gave her shit, and thought about what she might need now.
“Anyway, have a good game,” I said. “We should get out of here and let you play.”
Emma kissed Liam’s cheek and I waited to escort her off the ice. I wrapped my arm around her waist and held up my opposite hand for her to grip while we walked. Emma beamed up at me. “Thanks.”
“No problem, Chef.”
She grinned and her face flushed. “You came.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Didn’t want to miss it.” I glanced down at her lips as we stepped onto solid ground again. “Okay if I kiss you?”
She bit her bottom lip, then pressed them together. “We’re not supposed to be disgusting, remember?”
“Oh, right.” I dropped her hand, but kept hold of her waist. “You want hot chocolate or anything?”
She waved her hand. “I’ll get a pretzel after I hit the bathroom.”
I squeezed her waist. “I’ll get it for ya.”
“Careful,” she sang. “You’ll start a sugar daddy rumor.”
With a quick glance around, I patted her ass. She looked back at me as she walked away, my hand leaving her at the last possible second. I felt cold and exposed without her.
Uh oh. I’d felt this before. Feeling lonely when someone walked away, feeling like I had to stay attached to them like a magnet.
This might have been Feelings. Feelings, proper. Feelings, trademarked.
What else was I doing at a high school hockey game?
I got into the concessions line to give myself something to do. I scowled at the desiccated pretzels twirling on an ancient pretzel machine. Was she sure this was what she wanted? Whatever. If I was wrong, I’d be out what, three, five bucks?
“Looks like your Em traded up.”
I tried not to snap my head up at the mention of her name. Jeff was a few people in front of me in line.
The guy went on. “But you can’t compete with cougar bait, I guess.”
Every muscle in my body tensed. I didn’t give a shit about an insult thrown my way, but the implications it had for Emma? I would tear this asshole limb from limb and feed his parts to hogs if that would shut him up.
But as it turned out, I didn’t have anything to worry about, because Jeff spoke up. “Nah, it’s good to see her happy. I’m glad she’s doing something for herself.”
This was a 180 from the last time Jeff and I met.
The other dad was undeterred, doing his best to provoke Jeff. “She’s always been a looker, but enough to bag an NHLer?”
Okay, yep, now I was mad again. I reminded myself that tonight was about Liam and causing a scene was out of the question.
But I could do what I did best: be a menace.
That fucker had his phone in his hand. I tapped the woman in front of me and leaned down. “Hey, I’ll get your snacks if you let me get in front of you.”
She let me through and I winked at her.
Then I jostled that fucker in the elbow hard enough to make him drop his phone. “Oh, shit, man. You dropped your phone.”
The guy startled and turned, then startled all over again. “Oh. Uh, thank you.” He crouched to get his phone and I resisted the urge to sink my toe into his ass to make him fall over. When he stood, he dusted off his pants. “Hey, are you Harlan Royce?”
I stuck my tongue in my cheek and wrinkled my brow. “Who?”
Jeff held back a laugh. He got called forward to the concession window, but I stepped in front of him. “I’ll get it. Does Emma like cheese with her pretzel?”
Jeff bobbed his head. “If memory serves, yes. Maybe get it just in case.”
“Small price to pay for her happiness,” I said.
I beckoned the woman I’d ditched in line to get her order, and the asshole guy somehow felt included. “You don’t have to get my food,” he started.
I waved him off. “No, not you. She’s my friend,” I said, pointing to the woman. “I don’t know you.”
Jeff patted my shoulder as I leaned to tap my card. “Glad you’re here.”
I exchanged a look with him and felt warm all over. I wondered what made him change his tune about me, but I was glad he did. “Me too.”
Emma waited for us off to the side.
“A pretzel for a princess,” I said, extending the crusty, supposed-to-be-soft pretzel down to her.
“Ooh, and you got the cheese,” she said, ripping off a piece to dip in the yellow would-be-cheese goodness.
A little drop of it hung at the edge of her lips. I used my thumb to wipe it away, then sucked on it.
“Harlan,” she scolded me.
“Good shit,” I said. “Let’s go sit.”
That fucker thought she wasn’t worthy of me? I’d prove him wrong.
We sat hip to hip in the bleachers, making casual conversation.
Jeff sat on my other side, and I appreciated how nice he was to Emma.
I’d never had a kid or gotten a divorce, but he seemed like a really great dude.
I saw how Liam became who he was, born of two easygoing parents who wanted their son to shine.
I played a hand-slapping game with one of Jeff’s other kids, but overall, I kept a low profile.
I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.
Tonight was about the boys, about how far they’d come, about the community sending them off into their futures.
I did my best not to overanalyze how much or how little Emma touched me.
Just before the end of the second period, Emma clasped my hand. Jeff, Emma, and I braced forward and became a blur of nonsense shouting. Liam was on a breakaway, just one well-placed shot from a goal.
A wrister sent the puck sailing over the visiting goalie’s shoulder and into the net.
I yelled so hard my throat hurt, and I didn’t even feel a little jealous when Jeff and Emma hugged. More than anything, I felt honored to be included.
And I felt even warmer when Emma lunged at me and hit me with a big smacker of a kiss.