Chapter 20 Harrison #2
“Connor?” Marlee looks up first.
I nod, feeling only slightly panicked. “Yeah.”
Layken stands. “We’re already on it.”
Blakely pockets her phone. “Cupcakes are being delivered in an hour.”
“Pizza, chips, and soda in about ninety minutes,” Ella adds.
Marlee smiles softly. “Blue and gold decorations okay, I assume?”
“Uh, yeah…great. Wow. You guys didn’t have to go to all this—”
She cuts me off. “Yes, we do.”
“Mar’s right,” Ella says, hip checking me lightly as if she could knock me over. “We’re family. And this is what family does for each other.”
That word.
Family.
It’s really starting to dig its way into my heart.
Into my soul.
And I’m not hating it at all.
“Thank you ladies. Truly. Thank you so much.”
Two hours later, the arena is chaos in the best possible way.
Kids spill into the community room, eyes wide, voices echoing off concrete. Blue and gold streamers hang from the walls and doorways, and the smell of pizza and sugar fill the space.
Connor has a huge smile on his face and the guys are in their element.
Oliver and Griffin lead a locker room tour like it’s sacred ground, the kids shooting questions their way at rapid fire pace.
“What’s the first thing you do when you get in here?” Connor asks.
Take a shit because nobody wants to get out of their uniform once it’s all on.
Griffin grins. “First thing? Well, after a win, we definitely celebrate. The guys get in here and it’s all high-fives and laughter. After a loss? You might find us sulking a little, but we still come together. Teamwork, right?”
“Is that your locker?”
“How much does that stick cost?”
“Why does it smell like feet and popcorn?”
Griffin winces. “Okay first of all, rude.”
Oliver gestures to the rows of stalls. “Yes, these are our lockers. No, you can’t take anything. And the smell is…straight up ambition.”
A kid with a missing front tooth raises his hand like he’s in class. “Do you ever pee your pants during games?”
Griffin chokes on absolutely nothing. “Wow. Just straight to that, huh?”
Oliver blinks. “No.”
Another kid pipes up, “What if you have to?”
“We don’t,” Griffin says quickly.
I bite the inside of my cheek, shoulders shaking as I trail behind them remembering that one time that Griffin had explosive diarrhea and totally shit his pants and had to leave the ice to change.
A girl points at the nameplates above our changing stalls. “Why is everyone’s name so big?”
“That’s ego,” Griffin says. “League-mandated.”
Oliver shoots him a look. “You literally asked for gold lettering.”
A smaller kid squints at Griffin. “Why are your legs so hairy?”
Griffin looks down at himself. “Because God abandoned me.”
Oliver snorts as another hand flies up. “Do you guys shower together?”
Oliver freezes and Griffin sighs. “Yes. Moving on.”
“NAKED?” Someone yells.
“Next question!” Oliver barks.
I all but lose it right then and there. We’re talking full-on belly laugh, bending forward, one hand braced on the bench. These kids are too damn much and I am loving every minute of it.
“Are you enjoying yourself back there, Meers?” Oliver asks pointedly.
I wave my hand. “Oh, more than you could ever believe. Please, carry on. You’re doing great.”
A kid tugs on Griffin’s sleeve. “Do you have girlfriends?”
Oliver answers immediately. “Yes.”
Griffin adds, “And they’re very patient.”
“Do they get mad if you lose?”
“Yes,” Oliver says.
“No,” Griffin says.
“Yes,” Oliver repeats.
A boy points at a pair of skates on the floor. “Can I try those?”
“No,” both men say in unison.
“Why not?”
“Because,” Griffin says, “those skates have seen things.”
Oliver clears his throat. “Okay! Who wants to see where we tape our sticks?”
Every hand shoots up.
I continue to trail after the group, grinning so hard my face hurts, when Griffin catches my eye and mouths, “Help me!”
I merely give him a double thumbs up to let him know he’s doing great.
After the tour, Ledger lets kids try on helmets three sizes too big while I lace skates for a kid who can’t stop vibrating.
“Is this really where you sit?” he asks.
“Yep.”
“Is this where you yell?”
“All the time.”
Connor’s grin is so wide it almost hurts to look at.
On the ice, Barrett teaches a group how to properly slide on the ice without immediately eating shit while Bodhi and August run a mini-drill with cones, pucks, and more laughter than I’ve heard out of these guys in a while.
There’s absolutely zero pressure. It’s just a day of fun for my son and his friends.
At the team store, I remind the kids to, “Pick whatever you want. Hats, jerseys, mini sticks, take it all!”
Connor holds a Stars hoodie to his chest like it might disappear.
“You like it?” I ask when I see the glee on his face.
He nods hard and then wraps his arms tightly around my waist. “This is the best birthday ever. Thank you, Harrison.”
I swallow hard and hug him right back, squeezing my eyes closed momentarily as I soak up the love and give it right back to him in droves.
“You’re welcome, bud.”
HARPER
I’m standing just inside the doors of the Anaheim Stars practice arena, wrapped in a hoodie. Exhausted after being sick earlier, I’m still a little shaky, but my heart nearly bursts out of my chest at the sight before me.
The ice is full of kids.
Connor’s friends wobble and cling to the boards, laughing and shrieking, while Oliver and Griffin skate backward in front of them, dramatically pretending to fall.
August is crouched low, patiently teaching two kids how to push off properly.
Bodhi has somehow convinced three boys that crashing into the foam pads is “part of the drill.”
Harrison skates past Connor, taps his helmet gently, and says something I can’t hear, and I swear to God Connor’s grin could power the entire city.
The view is like a snapshot of everything I’ve ever wanted.
My son’s surrounded by pure joy, engaged with his friends, and confident in himself.
He’s out there, fully in his element, just like he should be.
Like I always wanted him to be.
Up in the party room, Marlee, Layken, and Ella have completely transformed the space. Blue and gold balloons and streamers and even a Stars banner with Connor’s name on it fill the room. Pizza boxes are stacked neatly, and the cupcakes look like iced hockey pucks.
“Oh, my God, you guys!” I exclaim when I step into the room. “You guys totally outdid yourselves. This looks amazing!”
Ella hands me a bottle of water the second she sees me. “Sit. You look like you’re trying not to pass out.”
“Honestly, I feel like I’m hallucinating,” I say weakly, pulling a chair out from the table and taking a seat.
Marlee smiles. “Girl, we’ve got you. You’re family now.”
“That’s right,” Ella says, nodding. “The moment Harrison said he needed us, we knew what to do.”
I press my hand to my chest, overwhelmed, and then twist off the cap to my water. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you so much.”
“So vomiting, huh?” Marlee asks, cringing in the most sympathetic way. “Do you think it’s a stomach bug?”
I shake my head. “It must be, right? But I’m not completely down and out, you know? It’s weird. Sometimes I’ll feel fine and then the next minute my head is in the toilet or the nearest trashcan.”
Marlee and Layken exchange a glance before Layken says, “Well hopefully it doesn’t last too long.”
Fifteen minutes go by as I make small talk with the ladies and then I’m back at the ice, watching as Harrison gathers the kids at the center, kneeling so he’s eye-level with them.
“Rule number one,” he says loudly, “if you fall—”
“We get back up!” the kids shout.
“That’s right. Now before we have cake and pizza, I have a special gift for our birthday boy.
” Harrison makes a gift presentation right there on the ice.
“This is the jersey I wore for my very first game as an Anaheim Star,” he tells the kids as he slides it over Connor’s head.
“And now it’s yours bud. One day you’ll be an Anaheim Star too, I just know it, so you’ll grow into this.
I hope you’ll wear it with as much pride as I did. Happy Birthday, Connor.”
Connor looks over at me through the glass, cheeks flushed, eyes shining, like he can’t believe this is real.
I know kid.
Sometimes I don’t believe it’s real either.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until Layken squeezes my shoulder.
“He loves him,” she says softly. “So much.”
“And if you don’t mind my saying so,” Ella says, bumping my shoulder with her own, “I would venture a strong guess that he loves you too.”
He loves me?
“Harrison?”
Ella nods, a knowing smirk forming on her lips. “Mhmm. You should’ve seen him today. That man would easily walk through fire for you. If that’s not love…”
It is love.
Because I would walk through fire for him too.
“Yeah…” The word comes out but I’m so captivated by Harrison and my son, our son, on the ice, I’ve forgotten what we were even talking about.
Harrison skates over to Connor, drapes an arm around his shoulders, and leans in to say something that makes Connor laugh so hard he almost tips over. And suddenly the guilt I carried all morning—the fear that I’d failed my son—loosens its grip.
Because I didn’t fail him.
I just chose someone who would never let him down.
Harrison looks up, finds me through the glass, and gives me a small, reassuring smile.
A smile that says “I told you I’ve got this.”
And for the first time ever I believe it with my whole self. I believe it so strongly the next words to tumble out of my mouth fall without a second thought.
“I love him too.”