Chapter 14 #2
And that started the family again, throwing out what “Fifi” could possibly mean.
“Her feetsies?” Ava said.
“Why would she bring up her feet?” Boone asked.
But Decker kept his attention on Cady. “What do you need?”
She sent Decker an apologetic look. “I’ve got an appointment with my OB first thing tomorrow morning.”
Decker pulled out his phone to arrange the flight on his jet.
“I’ll take her to the airstrip,” his dad said.
“I’m not sure how to handle this. I feel awful just leaving her.” Cady approached Birdie. “I have to go now, sweet girl, but you’re home now. You’re with your dad”—she gestured to the McKennas—“and your whole family. They’re going to take care of you.”
Tears glittered in the girl’s eyes. “Fifi?”
“I don’t…I don’t know what that is.” She glanced at the others. “I’ve asked before, but I can’t seem to get it out of her.”
“Are you still in touch with Brian?” The boyfriend had to have a better idea.
“No, but I’ll reach out to him.” Cady stroked Birdie’s hair. “I’m going to ask Uncle Brian about Fifi, okay?”
As a single tear spilled down her plump, flushed cheek, Birdie tucked her face into Willa’s neck. Willa pressed her hand to the little girl’s back and rocked her. “We’ll figure it out, sweet pea. I promise.”
“We should go.” Decker didn’t know whether to hug Cady or shake her hand. Since his brain wasn’t tracking right, he did neither. “Thank you for finding me. And let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you.”
“I will. And I’ll let you know what Brian says.”
Decker waved to his family, but he’d lost the capacity to talk. With the keys digging into the palm of his hand, he moved toward the car. Every voice behind him sounded distant, muffled.
Willa strapped the girl in—
The girl?
Come on, man.
That’s my daughter.
The word sank like a stone in his gut. It was loaded with so much weight.
Responsibility.
Jesus.
Anxiety spun him into a panic.
Birdie deserved a hell of a lot better than a man who didn’t have room for anything else in his life.
Fuck.
Willa grabbed the keys and dropped into the driver’s seat, pulling the seat belt across her chest. “Cherry or peach?”
“Huh?” He settled in.
She started the car. “What kind of pie are we making?”
His life had just changed in one hard hit.
And the only place that didn’t feel like pressure was with her.
“I’ve got a cherry pie recipe that’ll make you weep.”
On the way back, they stopped to buy groceries, clothes, educational toys, and books. For the first half hour, he texted Cady constantly. Will she eat chicken? How about eggs? Which milk do I get—skim, 1 percent, or whole fat?
It quickly became apparent she’d only had Birdie a short time, and she wasn’t a mother yet, so she was doing as much guesswork as they were.
Basically, they were on their own.
No, I am. Between her dad and the inn, Willa had enough on her plate. She was kind enough to let him stay with her, and she might be a good friend, but he was very clear on the lines he wouldn’t cross.
She was not going to be a babysitter or a pretend mom.
Once they’d unloaded the bags, Willa left to check on her dad and get a jumpstart on finding a general manager. That left Decker to sort things for his daughter.
He put her new clothes in the washing machine, organized the refrigerator to make sure their food didn’t take over the shelves, and found a corner of the living room to set up her books and toys.
Now, with Birdie playing quietly in her room with the basket of rocks his dad had given her, Decker took the moment to call Ava. She was not only their babysitter but a third-grade teacher.
Babysitter didn’t begin to define what she was to them. She was practically their mother.
“How’s it going, sweetie?” she asked, answering on the first ring.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He headed back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, wondering what to make for dinner for a kid who liked frozen French toast sticks and sgabetty.
“I get that, but remember how we eat an elephant?”
Yeah, yeah. “One bite at a time.” She used to tell him that all the time as a kid.
“That’s right. So, for tonight, you give her dinner. A bath. You read some books. And you lie with her until she falls asleep.”
That sounded easy enough. He could do that. “What if she won’t get in the bathtub?”
“Then, you let it go.” Ava made it sound so simple. “Try again another day.”
“It’s just… None of this makes sense. I’m a stranger to her. How does someone drop off a kid and leave me to raise it?”
“Cady had a choice to make. Would you rather she have kept Birdie and never told you about it?”
“No.” That hit the target.
“I get it. It’s a tough situation for all of you. But, as hard as this is, she’s very lucky she has you.”
“Me? Come on, Ava. You know better than that.”
“You’re right. I do know better. Remember, I knew you as a little boy. I watched you build that fortress around you. And I’ll tell you something. The only reason people do that is because they’ve got something to protect.”
“You’ve lost me.” He cracked a grin. “And you were doing so well.”
Ava laughed. “You were such a sensitive little boy. You were observant and compassionate. Life was always harder for you because you needed a softness the club didn’t offer.
But guess what? That’s what Birdie needs now.
And that makes you the perfect dad for her.
Someone else might not understand what she needs. ”
“Where do I even start in building a relationship?”
“You already did. When you got under the table with her, you made the first stitch. When you read a book to her tonight, you’ll make the next one. Tomorrow, when you help her tie her shoes…that’ll be the third.”
“I like that.”
“And listen, you didn’t know your teammates once.
You didn’t know your coach. You didn’t know me.
All relationships start at the same place.
” Her voice was soothing and kind, and he needed that.
“There’s only one thing that’s mandatory to raise a child, and that’s a true concern for her well-being.
You have that. It’ll guide your every interaction with her. ”
Willa laughed behind her dad’s closed door. He guessed that meant Jack was doing better. That’s good. He knew how worried she was about him.
“I know it’s overwhelming, but what’s the real concern? If it’s not knowing how to raise a child, well, let’s be honest. Nobody does. First-time parents learn as they go along just like you’ll do. Or is it more that you’re worried about fitting her into your life?”
Fair question. “I think it’s both. Most players with kids have wives or girlfriends to take care of them. Mine will have a nanny.”
“You could leave her here for the season. Visit as often as possible.”
“I know Dad would do that.” Since Jude had taken over the daily operations at Wild Billy’s, his dad worked a lot less. “But is that the right choice for Birdie? Shoving her off on my dad instead of raising her myself? That doesn’t feel right.”
“I’m glad you said that. It makes me think you’ll do just fine, Decker.”
“All right. One step at a time, huh? Guess I’ll start with dinner. Cady get off okay?”
“She did. She was impressed with your private jet. Now, go get that sweet little girl fed.”
“On it. And Ava?” he called before she disconnected.
“I’m here.”
“Yeah, I know. And thank you for that. I hope you know how much we all appreciate you.” The muscle in his throat tightened, and it hurt to swallow. “You saved me.”
“I do know. You boys show me that every day. I love you, sweet boy.”
He set his phone on the counter and got to work. With the air fryer, it wouldn’t take long to cook sliced chicken breast, a few broccoli florets, and a handful of baby carrots. He didn’t bother seasoning his food, and he figured that would work for a toddler.
As he sliced, he ran through his schedule.
Rehab center twice a day. Band work in his room at night. The inn had a decent gym, so he could get in his upper body lift there.
He’d sit in on install over Zoom. Text the O-line after meetings.
He’d stay in touch. Be a leader.
And then, I’ll be ready to play in three weeks.
That record is mine.
His muscles loosened as he laid it all out. He’d already called Player Services to set up a nanny. They handled these things for all the guys. Ben would babyproof the house. Get her into the best preschool. So that was good. Very good.
Since the family lawyer was his dad’s friend, he’d taken the call on a Sunday. Already, Decker had forwarded the test results and his ID. Tomorrow, he’d bring over the file Cady gave him with Birdie’s birth certificate and medical records and the death certificate for the mom.
See that? Everything’s in motion.
I’ve got it under control.
He pulled the broccoli from the air fryer and plated it.
Poured a glass of milk because he figured that was what kids drank.
While the chicken cooked, he got her new pajamas out of the dryer and set them on the bathroom counter.
Put the baby shampoo and soap in the bathtub rack.
Set up the towel. They’d bought a few toys, so he sorted through the bags and found the squirting dinosaurs and bath crayons. That should keep her happy.
Okay, good. All good. He headed off to get her, then remembered the chicken. It should be done by now.
He set the meal on the table, figuring it would be cool enough to eat by the time he got Birdie to wash her hands and sit down. Finally, he headed into the bedroom—
Only to find her curled up in bed on her side, fully dressed and fast asleep. She clutched a worn blanket, half her face hidden by a tangle of wild hair spilling across her cheek.
One sneaker lay on the floor beside the bed. The other was still on her foot.
The hem of her shirt was twisted, one arm half-pulled out of the sleeve like she’d tried to take it off and had given up.
A sharp, sick twist in his gut had him reaching for the door frame.
She’d put herself to bed.
She hadn’t even asked—not for dinner, not for help getting into her pajamas or brushing her teeth.
It brought back a memory of him on the cold floor of the clubhouse, yanking on a boot that was too tight.
His fingers couldn’t untangle the laces.
They were too weak. Not nimble enough. That feeling of struggle, of determination and helplessness…
That was what Birdie had felt tonight because he’d had his head up his ass.
Decker stepped into the room. Did she look like a McKenna? He really couldn’t say. She had a tiny, delicate, shell of an ear and skin so clear it was almost translucent. Her features slack in sleep, she breathed deeply, heavily.
She’s so innocent.
Helpless.
His heart clutched. His pulse drummed.
What do I do?
What the fuck do I do?
Seeing that shoe on the floor, the empty sleeve made something shift inside him.
He’d been viewing her as an obligation. A responsibility.
But looking at her sleeping form, the pucker of those lips, the tangle of hair covering a cheek, he understood she was a tiny human who ached for the loss of her mom, who was terrified of being dragged from one home to another.
She was lost, scared, and he was the one who had to make her world right.
He sensed the moment Willa entered the room.
Her honeysuckle scent swirled in the air, and her body heat warmed his back.
“She’s out cold.” She moved around him and caressed the girl’s cheek.
“Oh, no. Look at her shirt.” Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she pressed a kiss to Birdie’s temple.
“You break my heart, sweet girl. We would’ve put you to bed.
Read you stories.” She gazed up at him, her features pulled in sorrow.
“She’s just so alone. She doesn’t know you’re hers yet. ”
Another memory hit. Dammit. He was in the nurse’s office—a fever, maybe? He was lying on a cot. It was cool and shadowed in that section. There was another kid a few beds away. A girl. They were both waiting to be picked up.
Someone from the office swished into the room. “Is anyone coming for him?” she whispered.
“I have no idea,” the nurse answered. “I can’t get a hold of his dad.”
“Who else is on the list? There must be someone else we can call.”
He could still feel his T-shirt sticking to his sweaty body, the endless worry over who would come for him. It wouldn’t be Ava because she was working. His dad had a job on the other side of the mountain that day.
And then, a mom came rushing in. She went straight to her child. Wrapped the girl in her arms. “Are you okay, baby? Does it hurt?”
Decker hadn’t moved a muscle. It had been so foreign to him—something he’d only ever seen in movies or with teammates’ moms—he’d wanted to watch it play out.
The lady smoothed the hair off the girl’s forehead and ran her hand along her arm.
“Okay, good. It’s not broken.” She hugged her again.
“You scared me.” She kissed her cheek a dozen times.
Decker had barely breathed the whole time. He’d wanted that cool palm on his forehead, the safety of those arms around him that said, “You’re not alone. I’m here to take care of you.”
He fucking hated that memory.
It stirred up long-buried emotions. That yearning so powerful it had threatened to drown him.
Is this what it’s going to be like raising this girl? Is it going to dredge up the worst times of my life?
He couldn’t go back there. He just couldn’t.
Abruptly, he turned and left the room.