Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
LOADED
TULLY
Lola sits with one hand tucked under her thigh, the other resting loosely on her lap.
She was walking alone—I couldn’t exactly just pass her on the street. I’m not sure if Erin would consider this a “strategic contact” or not, but I saw an opportunity to talk to her and took it.
I clear my throat, and she inhales at the same time.
“Do you—”
“Are you—”
We both stop.
Her mouth presses into a line.
“Go ahead,” I say.
“No, you.”
Silence again.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
“So, how—”
“You and—”
We stop. Again.
This time she lets out a small laugh.
“How are you, Tully?”
“Doing well. How about you, Lola?”
She glances over at me. A smile plays on her lips, but I’m struck by the sadness in her eyes.
“I wouldn’t have come if I’d known it was your family’s resort,” she says softly.
“I can’t tell if I should feel comforted by that or even sadder…” I take a deep breath.
She blinks at me, surprise on her face. We’re quiet for a moment.
“Is this where you live now?” she asks.
“I still live in St. Paul, but I’m here as often as I can be, until I’m able to make the move.”
I don’t tell her the move will happen once I retire from the NHL, which won’t be that long from now. I haven’t announced that news publicly yet, and she is dating the competition, I remind myself.
We reach the resort entrance and I turn, wishing for once that it wasn’t so close. I pull into a parking space. The engine idles, filling the space between us with a low, steady vibration.
She doesn’t reach for the door handle.
“Where have you been all this time?” I ask.
“New York.”
I glance at her briefly. “Yeah?”
She nods, turning to meet my eyes. “Well, for almost three years now. Before that, Nantucket.”
“Not Dallas then.”
“No, not Dallas.”
That makes me feel only slightly better. It’s not like Patrick can be in Dallas all the time anyway, since he’s on the road as much as I am.
I try to picture her in New York.
“New York suits you,” I say.
Her mouth curves faintly. “Does it?”
“You always wanted somewhere with more noise.”
“You’d be surprised how much you miss the quiet when the noise never stops.” Her fingers twist together. “How’s your family?”
“They’re great. It’s been nice having everyone in one place. My dad just finished chemo, and we’re hopeful for a full recovery, but everyone wants to stick close to home now.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. And it’s understandable that you’d all want to be near him.”
“Thanks. Yeah. It’s been scary. I hope we’re on the other side of it. My brother Noah and his son Grayson are moving into their temporary condo next weekend, and then I’ll be the only one who’s not in Windy Harbor.”
“You’ve got a nephew?” She smiles.
That brings a smile to my face too. “He’s the best.”
“How’s your career going?” Then she laughs softly, shaking her head. “That’s a stupid question. Of course it’s going great. I know that much.”
I huff a quiet breath. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And I’m really proud of you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Thank you.”
“I never doubted you would do amazing,” she says, quick and certain.
Something tight in my chest shifts. “I didn’t realize you were so into hockey. You weren’t when we were together.”
She makes a face. “I seem to keep finding myself surrounded by all things hockey.”
“And you said you weren’t a puck bunny.”
Her cheeks flush, and she laughs softly. “Touché.” After a moment, she says, “What about Daniel? Is he your agent now?”
“Yeah,” I say. “He’s stuck with me through it all.”
Unlike you, I think.
She flinches, a tiny recoil.
“Well, he would, wouldn’t he?” She swallows hard.
“He’s stubborn and tenacious,” I reply.
Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
I glance at her then, really look. “Did you ever think we’d be strangers like this?”
She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head. She looks at me, and the air in the car thins. “No, never.”
I want to ask her why she didn’t return any of my calls or texts, just disappeared on me, but the conversation I just had with the girls at The Loon comes rushing back. Something tells me they wouldn’t approve of that just yet.
“Well, I’m glad to see that you’re doing so well,” I say instead.
Her lips lift. “I’m glad you are too.”
I nod and look at the lake in front of us.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says.
“Of course.”
She rests her hand on the door handle, then pauses.
“I’m sorry,” she says, barely above a whisper.
The words hit like a stone dropped into deep water—ripples spreading outward before I can stop them.
I stare straight ahead.
“Okay,” I say, because I don’t trust myself to say anything else.
She opens the door. “Bye, Tully.”
“Goodbye, Lola.”
She steps out and closes the door gently behind her. I watch her walk toward the resort. She doesn’t look back. I sit there longer than I should.
I push open the door and step into the house. The hinge lets out a dramatic squeak, and I make a mental note to fix it after I say hi to Dad.
From the living room, I hear Dad say, “Kevin, I hate to inform you that you are not the man of this house.”
A white blur rockets across the hardwood and skids to a stop at my feet.
Kevin, the cutest white Havanese who ever lived, looks up at me with intense authority, tail whipping like a metronome.
He’s technically Goldie’s dog, but I’m not sure where he’ll actually live once her new house is finished.
Kevin is divided over where his true loyalty lies—between my dad or my sister.
Bill, Dylan’s mini dachshund, trots in behind Kevin at a much more deliberate pace, ears bouncing as if the buck stops with him.
He’s quieter than Kevin and seems more chill, but I suspect he’s the boss of the two.
Dad rounds the corner, hands on hips. “This guy,” he says, shaking his head and pointing at Kevin. “He’s wearing me out today. He’s barking at leaves. They had the audacity to blow in the breeze on his watch.”
I snort.
Kevin barks once, sharp and declarative.
“Quit judging the leaves, Kevin,” Dad says. “It’s rude.”
Bill gives a low woof, like he’s backing Dad up.
“Is it just you and the pups?” I ask.
Dad points toward the kitchen. “Grandma Nancy is finding things to whip up in there.”
“Sounds about right.” I grin.
“Is that Tully I hear?” she calls.
“Hey, Grandma. Yep, it’s me.” I walk toward the kitchen, and she peeps around the corner, waving me over for a hug.
I wrap my arms around her, and she laughs when I lift her.
“Whew,” she says, when I set her down. “What I wouldn’t have given for your grandfather to have done a little arm work.
” She squeezes my bicep. “You could have taught him a thing or two with all those weights you lift. I bet that’s a nice plus with the ladies, sweeping them off their feet like that.
If he’d picked me up every now and then, I would’ve said yes more, that’s all I’m saying. ”
“Grandma! You’re making me blush,” I tease.
“When is it a good time to have your mom allude to sexual activity with your dad?” Dad asks, shuddering. “Never. Never is it ever a good time.”
“Oh, Everett.” Grandma Nancy laughs. “Honey, being the father of five children, you can’t exactly pretend to be innocent in the ways of the bedroom.”
Dad runs his hand over his face. “‘Ways of the bedroom’?” He looks at me in horror. “How did this conversation derail so quickly?”
I can’t hold back the laughter for another second. This little derailment is exactly what I needed to lighten my mood.
“Didn’t know I raised such a prude,” Grandma Nancy adds.
I burst out laughing, and her lips twitch, the only outward proof she shows of how proud she is of making me laugh.
“I’ve got wild rice soup on the stove, ready to eat,” she says.
“I just ate, Grandma.”
She stares at me, highly affronted. “You ‘just ate’?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you can eat again. You’re too thin.”
“You were just complimenting my muscles not even two minutes ago.”
“You could disappear sideways.”
Kevin sits at my feet and gently runs his paw over my knee, his request for pets. When he’s ignored, he gets more aggressive with that paw, so I don’t waste time giving him scratches. Bill gives me the side-eye, but when I pet him, he melts into my hand.
“I know what you’ll want,” Grandma Nancy says, pointing at me. “There’s Minnesota sushi in the fridge.”
“Mmm, you got me there. I can never turn that down.”
She grins. “I knew it.”
She hurries to the refrigerator and pulls out the plate of pickles rolled with cream cheese and ham that look like little sushi rolls.
“Eat up,” she says. “We need to fatten you up.”
“Fatten me up too much, and I won’t be able to lift the ladies,” I say, grinning at Dad.
“Lord have mercy,” he gripes, while chuckling in the next breath.
The back door opens and Grandma Donna enters, her eyes brightening when she sees all of us in the kitchen.
“I was hoping I’d run into you again today,” she says, coming over to squeeze my arm. “Who was that beautiful girl in the garden?”
Everything in me goes still.
The dogs look between us, ears perked.
Dad raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Who’s that?”
Grandma Nancy turns instantly, energized all over again. “What girl?”
I rub the back of my neck. “That was Lola.”
Both grandmothers freeze. Dad blinks.
“Lola Lola?” Grandma Donna repeats.
“The girl you went out with in college?” Grandma Nancy asks.
“Yeah…Lola Donavan.”
The room absorbs this.
Dad leans against the counter slowly, and Grandma Donna sits down carefully.
“She is beautiful,” she declares.
Dad squints at me. “So…you just ran into her?”
I nod. “She’s staying at Windhaven. And we ran into each other in the garden.”
“That’s fate,” Grandma Donna says.
“You’re neglecting to mention the man she was with…Patrick Martin.”
Kevin’s tail thumps. Grandma Nancy folds her arms and studies me with unnerving intensity.
“Was there a ring on her finger?” she asks.
“No.” It was one of the first things I checked.
“Then is this a sign that you need to be with her?” Grandma Nancy’s eyes go wide.
Silence fills the kitchen. Kevin’s head tilts, and Bill blinks slowly. Dad watches me like he’s waiting for the final play of a tied Wimbledon game. I open my mouth, then close it again.
I’m not sure I have an answer for them.
The back door opens before I can say anything, bringing in a burst of summer air. Noah steps in first, tall and solid. My oldest brother is quiet and contained, but brilliant. He’s my hero. He’s gone through more than any one man should have to go through, and I’ve never once heard him complain.
Grayson barrels in behind him. He spots me and freezes, then his face lights up like someone’s flipped a switch.
“Uncle Tulls!” he yells.
Before I can brace myself, he launches across the room and slams into my legs. I laugh and scoop him up, flipping him once before he can demand it.
“There he is,” I say. “The fastest kid in Minnesota.”
“I got faster,” he informs me seriously. “I been ninja training.”
“That checks out. I can tell.”
I set him down, and he immediately grabs my hand, pulling me toward the family room.
“C’mon. Let’s wrestle.” He turns and runs, and I pretend to lag behind him.
We tumble onto the rug. He climbs on my back like he’s Alex Honnold free-climbing El Capitan.
I groan dramatically. “I’m under attack! Someone call for backup!”
Kevin barks, and Bill circles us like a tiny security guard.
Grayson tries to get me in a headlock, but his arm is too small.
I pretend to struggle, though, and Grayson strains with his effort.
When he starts to tire, I make an elaborate escape and pin him down but then let him out as soon as he attempts a Granby roll.
He collapses into giggles and flops beside me, breathless.
“I win,” he says.
“You always do.”
After a minute, he runs off to show Kevin a plastic dinosaur he brought.
I push myself up and go back into the kitchen. Noah looks at me and frowns.
“What’s up with you?”
I groan. “Am I that obvious?”
Grandma Nancy gestures toward me like she’s presenting evidence in court. “He’s had a big day.”
Noah keeps watching me, and everyone else starts filling in the blanks.
Dad exhales. “Tully ran into Lola.”
Noah’s brows draw together slightly. “Lola. Really.”
He’s a man of few words, my brother.
“In the garden,” Grandma Donna adds.
“At the resort,” Dad clarifies.
Noah nods once, absorbing.
Then Dad adds, “She’s here with Patrick Martin.”
I mutter, “Patrick fucking Martin.”
Both grandmas sigh at the language, but neither corrects me, a sure sign that they know I don’t need the pile-on.
Noah’s mouth tightens. He leans one shoulder against the wall.
“You okay?” he asks. “She did a number on you.”
“I’m a little shaken up.”
He nods. “Did you talk to her?”
“A little. I gave her a ride to the resort from The Loon. She…she apologized before she got out of the car.”
This causes an uproar.
“You didn’t tell us that. What else did she say?” Grandma Nancy demands.
“Did she say why she left?” Dad asks, his eyes narrowing.
“No. We didn’t get that far. I said ‘Okay,’ and she left.”
“But it’s not okay!” Grandma Nancy says.
“Well, maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt that she had her reasons,” Grandma Donna interjects.
Her name should’ve been Grace instead of Donna because it’s what she always leads with.
“You’re better off without that drama,” Dad says.
Noah studies me. “You don’t agree.”
“Well…I don’t know. But I saw Goldie, Erin, and Ava, and there’s a whole Operation Lola thing going on now.”
He smirks then. “I bet there is.”
Grayson runs back in and slams into Noah’s leg, wrapping both arms around it.
“Dad, Uncle Tulls lost.”
Noah rests a hand on his son’s head. “I assumed.”
Then he looks back at me.
“If you love her, don’t let Patrick fu—dging”—he looks pointedly at Grayson before returning his eyes to mine—“Martin get away with winning off the ice too.”
Boom.
He may not say much, but when he speaks, it’s loaded.
I can only manage a nod.
From the floor, Grayson raises the dinosaur toward me.
“For protection,” he says.
I take it solemnly. Given the day I’ve had, I might actually need it.