22. Noelle
Chapter twenty-two
Noelle
“It’s simple, Noelle,” I lectured my reflection in my bathroom mirror. “You take Khia to the game, cheer the team on, come home. So simple.”
Today, on my first official day as nanny, I was taking Khia to the Chargers home game at Cal’s request. I was aware that literally any other family member could have taken her, but he asked me specifically.
That meant something, right? Oh, wait, most of them were sick and literally could not take her.
This means nothing. You’re nothing special. It’s just your job.
Out of time to weigh the pros and cons, I straightened my navy Caldwell Chargers ball cap over my ponytail and grabbed my purse. Khia was waiting in the living room, occupied with the puzzle still on my coffee table.
“You ready to go, sweetie?”
“Yup!” She jumped up. “I already went to the bathroom.” Eyeing me with enough judgment to make Edna Mode jealous, she frowned. “Why aren’t you in Daddy’s jersey?”
Guilty. Cal’s old jersey hidden in the back of my closet flashed through my mind. No way I was wearing that. “I . . .”
Khia pouted. “We need to match.” And she turned around, Satterfield and 22 emblazoned on the back of her small navy-and-white jersey.
I checked my watch. We were already running late, and I didn’t have time to explain why matching would be a terrible idea—for my heart at least. “Maybe next time, okay?”
Her lip trembled.
Oh no, meltdowns weren’t on the schedule tonight. “If your daddy wins, you and I can decorate cookies tomorrow with the team colours.”
Her eyes brightened. “More sugar cookies?”
“Of course.”
She cheered and scampered to the door. “C’mon, Miss Noelle!”
If only all of life’s problems could be solved with the promise of baked goods.
Once we got to the Caldwell arena, appropriately named the Palace, it was a sea of fans. It was nothing compared to New York streets, but I still had half a mind to bolt the other direction.
I gripped Khia’s hand tightly, scanning the throng of white and navy until a familiar face caught my eye. Juliet.
She moved towards us, confidence radiating off her. Even as a teenager, Juliet possessed more ease than women twice her age. As a lawyer, it had clearly served her well.
“Auntie Jules!” Khia flung herself at the tall woman.
If I hadn’t seen her on Sunday, I would have had no idea she was pregnant since her oversized jersey hid her baby bump.
My nursing skills had kicked in the minute I saw her, but in the busyness we didn’t get the chance to talk.
I had a hundred questions—how was she feeling?
how did she and Myles fall in love?—but all of them turned to ash on my tongue when she met my gaze.
She wasn’t the same Juliet I remembered. Despite our three-year age gap, we’d been close back then. More than once, we’d sat in the stands at the guys’ hockey games, cheering until our throats were hoarse.
Now, instead of laughing over a bucket of popcorn, her expression was guarded. “Noelle.”
“Nice to see you, Jules.”
She winced almost imperceptibly at the nickname. “Cal asked me to see you in. Didn’t want you getting lost in the crowd.”
“Thanks. Are you feeling better?”
“Eh.” She lifted her shoulder in a half shrug. “Just a twenty-four-hour flu. Myles was more worried than I was.” The mention of her husband had her entire expression softening. Love looked good on Juliet.
“Can I see Daddy?” Khia tugged her aunt’s jersey. “I need to tell him to win so I can make cookies!”
Juliet chuckled. “How about I pass on the message?”
Khia sighed dramatically. “M’kay, but tell him it’s important.”
“I’ll do that.”
Khia kept hold of my hand as Juliet steered us around the lines and into the arena.
“Usually I take Khia to the family row with the other wives and girlfriends, but Cal said she wanted a closer seat this time,” Juliet explained, leading us towards the arena seating.
The Chargers were doing warm ups, but Cal skated over to us when we paused to watch them through the clear protective shield surrounding the ice.
My back twinged as I helped Khia stand on the edge so she could see. Cal grinned and blew her a kiss with his gloved hand.
She giggled, blowing a kiss back.
Cal glanced at me, taking in my oversized hoodie and jeans, and I swear a glint of disappointment flashed in his eyes. Or maybe that was an illusion thanks to his helmet.
Or you’re imagining it because it’s what you want to see.
Khia might have had a point about the jersey thing.
Thousands of women wore his jersey, and it didn’t mean anything. So why couldn’t I?
Gratitude. Friendship. I could do this, right?
Cal smiled at me softly and dipped his head in thanks.
Unsure of what to do, I waggled my fingers in an awkward wave.
Pull it together, girl. He seemed to read my nerves because he lifted his glove to the glass.
My stomach tightened. Shouldn’t have had that extra chicken nugget earlier.
Swallowing, I touched my hand to his. It used to be our thing when I came to his games. “Go get ’em, Cap,” I mouthed.
The grin he flashed was dazzling. The perfect candidate for a toothpaste commercial. I’d buy toothpaste just because of that smile. With a parting wink, he skated off.
“C’mon.” Juliet motioned up to our seats, and I willed my pulse to return to a regular rhythm.
You’re a grown woman, not a teenager.
The game started, and our guys played their hearts out. Khia wiggled in her seat between Juliet and me, swinging her pink polka-dot boots. “Hit him, Daddy, hit him!”
I choked on a laugh and glanced at Juliet. Humour lit her own expression, but it faded when we made eye contact. Like there was too much between us to even share a joke.
Juliet did a good job at explaining the game to Khia in simple terms for her to understand. Namely that icing had nothing to do with cake. And she was effortlessly polished, even in an oversized jersey and jeans.
After the second period, Juliet stood and groaned, hand to her back. “I’m so ready to be done.”
“When do I get a new cousin?” Khia asked, scrunching her nose. “Tomorrow?”
“Christmas.” Juliet shot me an almost shy look.
“Congratulations.”
She dipped her head. “I heard you were a nurse. Labour and delivery by any chance?”
“Emergency.”
“Given the hospital is thirty minutes away, that does make me feel better.”
“Hey, you must be Noelle!” Lavender space buns popped up beside us. “I’m Bells, the PR manager for the Chargers.” The woman radiated sunshine and rainbows. “You’ve been the talk of the team!”
I sighed. “Trust me, I’m ready for a new subject.”
Genuine surprise crossed Bells’s face. “Why? Everyone’s happy to have their New York star back.”
Not everyone. “That’s kind of you to say.”
She smiled ruefully. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I can sniff out a story, and I know there’s some history with you and Cal.”
That was putting it mildly.
“Jingle Bells!” Khia interrupted. “Can I get popcorn?”
Bells glanced at me. “Do you mind?”
I shot a look at Juliet. I had no idea if Bells was a trusted adult.
Juliet nodded. “It’ll give us a minute to chat.”
Bells led the chattering little girl away, and a fine sheen of sweat swept over my body. Broken bones, car accidents, and emergencies didn’t rattle my nerves, but my ex-fiancé’s baby sister saying “we need to talk” had me breaking a sweat.
“What’s up?” See, I could be easy breezy.
“You tell me.” Juliet’s blue eyes were brighter than Cal’s, but tonight, they were flinty.
Here we go. “I’m sorry, Jules. Really. That’s all I’ve said lately, but I mean it.”
“Why’d you leave?”
I blew out a breath. “Lots of reasons.” The bustle of the arena offered a shield of privacy. While this wasn’t where I’d have wanted to have this conversation in all the ways I’d planned it out in my head, it was still private. “They were valid, but I should have handled them differently.”
“Instead of breaking my brother’s heart?”
“It broke mine, too,” I snapped back. Did she think I was heartless? I’d done nothing but regret my choices.
“Answer me this: Did you ever think about coming back?”
“Yes,” I whispered gutturally. A fresh wave of grief rolled over me at the memory. So many times. “I had a ticket and everything.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Juliet demanded. “We needed you, Elle. You were family.” Her eyes burned with a glassy sheen. The only time I’d ever seen Juliet cry was at Sandra Delavan’s funeral.
Emotion clogged my throat. “I was too ashamed at first, but when I finally worked up the courage, I saw Cal’s wedding announcement online.”
Juliet’s expression broke. “What?”
“I was too late.” I sniffed. “So I tried to move on. Because I wouldn’t be the woman wishing for another woman’s husband.”
“And you had no idea Izzy passed?”
I shook my head. “I came back for . . . personal reasons. And to make amends.” Slowly, I glanced up to meet her gaze. “Will you forgive me?”
Her jaw twitched. “I do,” she said slowly. “But I don’t fully trust you right now.”
“That’s fair.” Trust had to be earned, and I was willing to do the work to earn it. Between Greyson and Juliet, I had my work cut out for me. “But will you give me the chance to prove myself?”
“That I can do.” She sniffed hard, muttering, “Stupid hormones.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, then, sensing her need for a topic change, motioned to the arena. “So you and Myles, huh?”
Her cheeks flushed a dull pink. “Go ahead. Say I told you so. Everyone else did.”
I chuckled. “He was the only clueless one. You’re good for him.”
“He’s good for me,” she said with a soft smile. “The best man I know.”
Bells and Khia returned with their snacks, and the game resumed.
The air was electric with excitement and energy.
The guys were on fire, Cal especially. If I didn’t know better, he almost seemed angry.
I’d seen him play mad in the past. Exercise was his way of blowing off steam when he couldn’t put his thoughts into words. But why would he be angry tonight?
A sliver of guilt worried my stomach. Is it my fault?
It’d been a long time since I’d watched a hockey game in person—watching virtually wasn’t the same—but the enjoyment flooded over me.
Until Cal and another player collided against the boards. Sticks slashed and fists flew. The Colorado player—DeSantos—hit dirty, and Cal’s knees buckled. He went down hard, his helmet hitting the ice. DeSantos went in for another swing.
What was this jerk’s problem? I clenched my fists, anger flooding my veins.
“Daddy!” Khia shrieked. “Get up!”
But he didn’t.
My heart froze as chaos broke out. The Chargers dropped their gloves in defense of their captain, and the refs worked to break up the fight. Myles left the net to snag one of his players by the back of the jersey, hauling him off, but not before the goalie landed a punch of his own.
A stretcher was brought out, and Cal roused slightly before they carried him off the ice.
Khia clung to me, crying. All I could do was stare at the ice.
“Go,” Juliet said in her take-charge way, easing Khia onto her lap. “I’ll get Bells to walk you back.” She whipped out her phone and tapped on it rapidly.
“Thanks.” I scurried out of the arena towards the locker rooms.
Please, be okay. Lord, please let him be okay.