9. Aiden
The Jacksonville Jackals played like a team possessed tonight, which I found interesting because, at this point, they would have to win almost three-quarters of their remaining games for even a chance at the playoffs. Although it’s not impossible, it’s an unrealistic feat.
We’ve played this team countless times before, and never have I seen such hostility and targeting from them. They had me pinned up against the boards, taking cheap shots and nicking my eye. I tucked in and let them, hoping the linesman would blow the whistle and the official would assign a major penalty to the other team. The gamble worked, and we had an extra man on the ice long enough to score. Swank did the same.
As the buzzer sounds, the crowd goes wild with our win, and the noise is deafening in the arena. Foot stomps and loud chants fill the air with energy so thick I can almost taste it. I wave to my family, who are waving their hands wildly in the air and jumping up and down, hugging each other to celebrate the Rockets getting one step closer to the playoffs. The only person who doesn’t seem thrilled with the win is Anna. She’s busy scanning the crowd, and her body language is screaming that she would rather be anywhere other than here.
Swank nudges me before heading into the locker room, “Patricia is here. Do you still plan on talking to her?”
Normally, I would have noticed Patricia right away. However, this time, my attention was focused wholly on my family and Anna. When I saw what she was wearing, I wasn’t pleased at first. But then again, that’s probably why she wore what she did in the first place. I had to laugh and take it for the joke it was meant to be. At least, I hope it’s a joke.
“Yeah. I need to have security escort her down before my family arrives.” I flag one of the officers and ask him to bring Patricia to the tunnels and to notify me when they arrive. He agrees and leaves to fulfill my request.
I barely have my skates off when the officer pokes his head in the dressing room and waves me over. I take an extra minute to mentally prepare myself for the uncomfortable discussion that I’m about to have. Waiting in the corridor, wearing skintight leather pants and a halter top, my ex-wife looks like she’s ready to go to a nightclub rather than a hockey game. She’s dressed like all the other “puck-bunnies” that will undoubtedly be waiting by the exit, only a decade older and with a lot more plastic.
Not wanting my family to run into her, I don’t bother with formalities and get straight to the point. “Patricia, what are you doing here? You’ve been coming to our games since the beginning of the season, yet you haven’t approached me once. What are you playing at?”
She smiles coquettishly and rubs at her bare ring finger absentmindedly. I’m not sure she’s even aware that she’s doing it. “Aiden, I’m not playing any games with you. I’ve simply been waiting for you to come to me when you’re ready to talk.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you, Patricia. And if you don’t either, then I guess this conversation is over.” As I turn to head back and get changed, she grabs my arm to stop me.
“Aiden, I want to see Penny, but I didn’t know how to broach the subject. She’s my daughter, too, and I want to get to know her.”
Her sad and soft voice almost pulls at my heartstrings…almost. I would have fallen for it if I hadn’t been married to her for three years and knew what she was capable of. “Why now? It’s been five years since you left, and you haven’t even sent Penny a Christmas or birthday card. Do you really expect me to believe that you have had a change of heart and suddenly want to be a part of her life? Excuse me if I don’t believe you.”
“Aiden, I was young when I had Penny and not ready to be a mother. Being a parent was something you wanted, not me. At least not then.”
I scoff. “You were 28, Patricia, and you should have told me the truth when we talked about having kids. I would have understood if you had been honest with me.”
She laughs, and not in a kind way. “Are you serious? You wouldn’t have understood, Aiden. You wanted to be a father more than anything, yet you were hardly ever home to experience it. You were playing and always on the road while I had to stay home with Penny and listen to her cries all day long. I was the one who had to get up in the middle of the night and feed her, change her diaper, and play with her. No, you got to live both your dreams, hockey and fatherhood, while I had to give up mine. I left because I felt alone and depressed, not because I didn’t love you or Penny.”
“My mother would have helped you.”
A small tear escapes her eyes and trails down her cheek. “She tried, but there wasn’t anything she could do for what I had.”
I try to keep my emotions in check, but a woman crying always gets to me. She knows this, so I have to be careful around her in case she’s trying to play on my sympathies. “And what’s that? Postpartum depression? Because my mom offered to take you for treatment, and you refused. I tried to be there for you, and you pushed me away.”
“Not exactly. After I divorced Zach last year, I realized I had issues beyond that. I’ve been going to counseling lately and was recently diagnosed with Anhedonia.”
As I cross my arms and listen to her excuse for walking out on her family, I have to admit that I’m curious. “What is Anhedonia?”
“It’s a rare disorder associated with depression and means that I have trouble experiencing joy. I wasn’t unhappy with just you, Aiden. I was unhappy with everyone and everything. I’ve returned to Savannah because I want forgiveness and a second chance.” She doesn’t meet my eyes when she says this, which has always been one of her tells that she’s lying or hiding something.
“I forgave you a long time ago, Patricia. You can leave here knowing you have that, but a second chance with me is out of the question.”
She reaches out and places a hand on my chest, but her touch is cold, unlike Anna’s searing heat from this morning. The woman in front of me is calculated and devoid of any warmth. “I want a second chance to make things right with Penny. I want to get to know her. Can you at least give me that?”
I think about what I said to Swank and that I would never keep Penny from getting to know Patricia. “You can come over and have supervised visitation with Penny for an hour on Sunday after we get home from church.”
“Thank you, but why only an hour?” she asks, almost petulantly.
Her hand is still on my chest, so I gently remove it when I hear people coming down the corridor. The last thing I want is for anyone to get the wrong idea. “Because the team is coming over for a barbeque, and not all the players will be happy to see you. You get an hour to make your case to Penny before they arrive.”
She sneaks in and quickly kisses my cheek, smiling brightly like she just won the lottery. “Thank you, Aiden. I have a feeling that Penny and I will get along just fine. I mean, how hard can it be to talk to a six-year-old?”
I almost burst out in laughter because she clearly has no idea what our daughter is like. Instead, I keep my face blank, giving nothing away. Patricia is cunning, and my gut is telling me that she has an ulterior motive for being here—more like two billion motives.
“Sunday, one o’clock. Give your name to the man at the front gate, and he’ll let you in.” I turn to leave, avoiding the stares from my family that I’m sure are directed my way. Just before I enter the locker room, a niggling feeling causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. Waiting another few seconds, I take a few steps back to peek around the corner. I watch as Patricia leans in and whispers something to Anna and then to Penny.
I can’t tell what’s said, but Anna stays cool as a cucumber except for a fire that flashes in her eyes when Patricia smiles down at our daughter. I almost plan to go over there and say something, but Anna has positioned herself between my Penny and her mother in a protective way, taking a small step back on her right foot. It’s a fighting stance, and I get the feeling that Anna is more than capable of handling herself if push comes to shove.
I’m back in the locker room less than two minutes when Swank snaps a towel at me to get my attention. “Why does it look like you just stepped on a Lego? Was the conversation that painful?”
“I’ll tell you about it later, Swank. For now, I need a hot shower and some muscle rub. Then I have to go talk to the nanny about what constitutes appropriate apparel to wear to a game.” Stripping off my shirt, I groan in pain and have several bruises forming underneath my left ribcage.
He laughs, “I thought what she was wearing was absolutely perfect! She looked amazing!”
“I bet Miss Georgia would be happy to rub your muscles for you,” shouts Deacon, our top defenseman.
“What?” I ask him, confused. “That was random.”
Deacon grabs a towel and strides off toward the showers, grinning. “No, it wasn’t. I’m pretty sure that was Savannah Jones was sitting with your family today. She looks as hot now as she did when she was 18—better if you ask me.”
I yell back, “Her name is Anna Blackwood, and she’s Penelope’s new nanny. And before any of you heathens try to make a play for her, she’s off-limits!” I use two fingers to point to my eyes, then flip them around and make sure each of the guys knows I’m serious.
Swank rests his elbow on my shoulder, “I don’t know about you boys, but that sounds like a challenge if I ever heard one!”
The team yells in unison, “Challenge accepted!”
I throw them all scathing looks and push Swank’s elbow off my shoulder. “Seriously, guys, there will be no Sunday barbeque if you can’t contain yourselves. Remember that my dad is going to be smoking a brisket, so the choice is yours!”
“Is Martha going to be making her loaded baked potato salad?” Brandon, one of our goalies, yells.
“What about her Sriracha deviled eggs?” shouts another. “I’ll play nice for some of your mom’s eggs!”
I ignore them all, and by the time I’m done showering and getting dressed, most of the team has already left. I see Swank waiting for me by my locker, watching something on his phone. “What are you looking at? You’ve been staring at that screen for at least three minutes.”
His mouth quirks up, and he hands me the phone, “I can see why Deacon thought that Anna was Savannah Jones.”
I take the phone from him and glance at the picture. “That’s not her. She’s far too thin, has brown hair, and her eyes don’t sparkle when she smiles.”
He grabs his phone out of my hands and stares at the picture intently. “I don’t know. Women can color their hair and gain weight. Wait! You’ve taken the time to notice that Anna’s eyes sparkle? Do you have a thing for the nanny?”
“No! Um…I mean, not really. It’s stupid.”
Swank puts his arm around me, “Bro, you’re not stupid. Okay, maybe compared to Penny, you are, but not to us regular folks. What’s going on?”
“Why have you been so touchy-feely lately?” I ask, pushing his arm off me again. He stands there with his lower lip out, looking like a dejected puppy who had his favorite chew toy taken away. “Can you keep a secret?”
“I’m like a vault! You can tell me anything!” He rubs his hands together excitedly, ready for some juicy gossip.
I lean in and whisper, even though it’s just the two of us. “I think Anna is hiding something from us, and I plan to find out what. I’m going to shower her with kindness and get her to open up.”
Based on my cadence and the way the words sort of rhyme, he points at me and laughs, “You’re a poet and didn’t know it!”
“Knock it off, Swank.”
“Maybe she’s hiding a secret identity and is really Savannah Jones in disguise! Maybe she’s some secret agent or a criminal hiding out from the law!” he exclaims.
I grab my duffle bag and head for the door, waving off his silly comments. “Let’s go. My family is probably worried about us after the beatings we took today on the ice.”
I forget all about Swank behind me when I stop in my tracks at the sight of my family in front of me. I hadn’t taken the time earlier to appreciate the view, too preoccupied with my discussion with Patricia. Mom smiles wide and walks up to hug me, “How’s my baby? Are you going to be able to play tomorrow?”
I hug her back and give her the answer she wants to hear. “I’m going to be fine, Mom. But if you’re all going to attend the game tomorrow, there is something I need to take care of first.”
She chortles when she notices where my eyes are zeroed in. “I was wondering if that would bother you.”
Lowering my voice so only she can hear, “More than you know, and more than it should.”
Penny runs over to me, and I pick her up on my way toward Anna, this time talking loud enough for everyone to hear me. “Penny, what do you think of Anna’s shirt?”
“I told her that you wouldn’t like it!” she says with a scrunched-up nose.
“I think my number and name look fantastic on her,” Swank says, winking at Anna, who is wearing a jersey with ‘Kristofferson’ on the back and the number 12.
Anna rolls her eyes. “It was the only one I could find at the thrift store. One person’s junk is another person’s treasure.”
“Ouch! That was a cheap shot!” Swank responds playfully.
Anna shrugs, “It seemed appropriate since it was a cheap shirt. I do think that it looks good on me, though.”
Not wanting to listen to any more flirting, I step into her personal space and use the husky tone from this morning that caused her skin to pimple with gooseflesh. “Anna, you’ll need to wear the ‘Shaw’ name or nothing at all.”
She takes a step back, and her eyes widen in shock. It takes me a second to realize what I’ve just said, and I try to backpedal as fast as I can. “Oh, uh. I didn’t mean for that to come out how it sounded. Of course, you can wear whatever else you want.”
She cocks her hip and smiles, her dimples coming out in full force and knocking the breath out of me. “As long as it has the ‘Shaw’ name?”
My voice cracks when I respond, “Yes.” Clearing my throat, I try not to sound like a pre-teen boy. “Yes. I would prefer that you wear a jersey with my name on it since you are representing my household. I can get you one if you like.”
“I’m good, but thank you for the offer, Aiden. I’ve got everything under control.” She winks before leaving to talk to the bodyguards, and the teasing glint in her eye indicates that she has something up her sleeve.
I feel a hard slap on my back as Swank refocuses my attention from the enigmatic beauty sashaying away. “Smooth, Bro. Real smooth.”