Chapter 2
Grant
The easy back and forth between Heather and her daughter almost makes me smile.
I don’t know much about Margo’s sister, having only spoken to her in passing at a handful of team functions, but it’s clear that she is the kind of parent who has made sacrifices for her kid.
The kind who works hard so her kid can have the best possible shot at making something of themselves.
I respect the hell out of that.
Honestly, I’m not even sure how I got talked into joining Noah and Margo out here in the friends and family lounge. My parents are gone, and the only people I’d call friends are all on the team with me.
There’s something keeping me here, though, and it isn’t the promise of food or listening to my teammates relive each play as if we weren’t all right there to experience it together the first time.
As if I haven’t already picked apart every second of the game in clinical detail on my own.
As if I won’t watch and re-watch the highlight reel a million damn times.
As if I don’t already live and breathe the sport to the point that I don’t even have time to think about friends, family, a social life, or anything more serious.
But I’m not complaining. Just stating the facts.
Hockey saved my life, and it’s been the driving force in my life through the highest highs and lowest lows since I was a kid.
I turn again, and my eyes settle on Heather. Purely by accident—not that I was seeking her out or anything—but there’s something about her smile or her laugh or maybe just her voice that seems to draw me in until I’m subtly leaning in closer to hear what she’s saying.
“Yes, sweetheart, we’ll do our best to come to the home games once we move to Denver.”
So Margo’s sister is moving to town and will apparently be a fixture at our games. Our home games, anyway.
Good for her. Her kid will like that, judging by the reaction April just gave her mother. And hell, maybe she’s good luck for the team. We won tonight, after all.
Or maybe it was the three-tap ritual she caught me doing.
She has an eye for detail, I’ll give her that.
I can’t even remember the last time someone asked me about what has become more than a habit, more than a ritual, even.
I don’t believe in all that superstitious shit, but I draw the line at tapping the goalpost.
That’s a requirement.
“Nice save tonight, Parker.” Reese, our right winger, claps me on the shoulder. “You always make it look damn near effortless.”
“It wasn’t effortless. My positioning was off by half a step.”
He snorts. “Damn, Grant. Do you ever just take a compliment?”
“I’m just saying I could’ve been a little more locked in.” I give a half-shrug, as if I haven’t been obsessing about how I should have seen the shot coming a little earlier or been a fraction of a second faster with my reactions. “But we got there in the end.”
He laughs. “Man, you’re gonna give yourself an ulcer one of these days. I’m surprised your blood pressure isn’t sky high, the way you’re always stressing about that shit.”
“One-ten over seventy.” The number rolls off my tongue as easily as anything, since I’ve already checked it three times today.
Morning exercise, pre-game, and post-game, just like clockwork.
“And anyway, someone has to stress about this shit to make up for a few folks who probably don’t stress enough. ”
The dig isn’t necessarily aimed at Reese, but I know he’s easy-going enough to take it in stride. He clutches at his heart like he’s been wounded, but he still has that easy grin on his face, so I know we’re all good.
“Look, man,” he says. “All I’m saying is that I know we’re all our own worst critics, but maybe take a second to pat yourself on the back and accept when you do a damn good job. Like tonight.”
“Thanks,” I say, knowing he’s right even if I don’t want to hear it.
“Of course. Callie tells me the same thing all the time,” he adds with a grin.
He starts to say something else, but my attention is across the room where Heather has pulled her phone from her purse. She looks down at the screen with a small frown, then says something to Margo and steps away from the group.
Reese is still talking—something about the shot he nearly made in the second period—but I’ve lost the thread of the conversation.
Heather’s shoulders are tense as she brings the phone to her ear. Even from here, I can see the way her expression changes. Her easy smile from a few moments ago is gone, and there’s a little line between her eyebrows that wasn’t there before.
She turns slightly away, her free hand coming up to press against her forehead. Her voice is too low to hear, but the way she’s holding herself, all hunched and protective, tells me enough.
Something is wrong.
“You good, Parker?” Reese asks, and I realize I’ve completely checked out of whatever he was saying.
“Yeah. Fine.”
But my eyes track Heather as she ends the call and stands there for a moment, staring at her phone. She takes a breath, then another, like she’s trying to compose herself before heading back to the group. But there’s no mistaking the tiredness in her eyes when she finally returns to Margo’s side.
She leans in close to her sister and whispers something into her ear.
Margo steps to the side and places a comforting arm on her back, and I take the opportunity to move over next to Noah. He seems to be catching on that something is wrong, but also seems to be just as clueless as I am about what the actual problem is.
It only takes a couple of moments before Margo turns to face Noah again, mirroring her sister’s same dismayed expression.
“Heather needs our help. She needs to stay with us for a while.”
“No, no, no.” Heather is already shaking her head before Noah can say anything. “I can’t. We can’t do that. You’re pregnant, and I don’t want to even—it would just be a lot for everyone, you know? We’ll figure something out.”
“Can I ask what happened?” The words are out of my mouth before I can think to stop myself.
And the way everyone slowly turns to look at me with varying expressions of confusion and outright surprise on their faces makes me instantly wonder if I’ve overstepped.
“I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but…
maybe there’s something I can help with? ”
Noah is looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Are you feeling okay, Parker? You’re trying to help someone for no apparent reason? Do you have some sins to atone for or something?”
“Very funny.” I grimace. “And Heather isn’t just someone. She’s your sister-in-law. And right now she looks like someone just told her the world is ending tomorrow, so I thought I’d be nice. Damn.”
“It kind of feels like it might be.” Heather looks just as wary as Noah does, but she heaves a small sigh and begins to explain her situation anyway.
“So April and I are moving here to Denver pretty soon, right? My job is opening up some offices here and giving me a promotion to make the transfer. I’m pretty sure you were over here when my daughter announced to the whole world that we’ll be at most of the Aces’ home games. ”
“All of the home games,” April corrects her. “You promised.”
“Right. All of them. My mistake.” She offers a tired smile to her daughter, then to me. “Anyway, that was all going fine. Arrangements to move are taking place and everything was smooth sailing…”
“Until…” I prompt, worried where this story is heading.
“Until the city came in and filed a lawsuit claiming the developer is destroying some kind of birds’ nesting habitat.
” She throws her hands into the air. “I don’t know all the details, but my manager just told me it could be months before the situation is resolved, and no guarantee it’ll be resolved in our favor. ”
“Birds?” April tugs on her mom’s arm. “What kind of birds?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Some endangered something-or-other.”
“That’s actually pretty cool that they’re protecting—” Noah starts to say.
“Not helping,” Margo interrupts with a pointed look.
“Oh, right. Sorry. That sucks, Heather. But we’re not going to just leave you and April out on the streets. We can figure something out.”
I haven’t said anything, but I’m listening and trying to figure out if there’s something I can do to help, even though I have no idea what that might be.
“Okay, so what about a hotel?” Margo asks. “Just temporarily, until you can find something more permanent.”
Heather shakes her head. “For how long, though? What if it really does take months? I can’t afford to stay in a hotel for that long. Not in Denver.”
“What about a short-term rental? One of those furnished apartment situations?”
“I looked into that when they first started hinting about the promotion. The ones I can afford are either in sketchy neighborhoods or so far from April’s school that the commute would be impossible.
” The frustration is starting to become evident in her voice.
“And the ones near her school are twice what I was planning to spend on rent.”
“Then you’ll have to stay with us,” Margo says again, more firmly this time. “At least for the first month or two while you get your bearings and figure out something more permanent.”
“Margo, I can’t.”
“I mean it, Heather. We have the space.”
“For now, maybe. But what about when the baby comes? You’ll need that room for the nursery, and even before that, you’ll need time to get everything ready without worrying about having me and April underfoot.
Not to mention that Noah shouldn’t have to deal with a nine-year-old running around while he’s trying to focus on being a new father and team captain. ”
“For you and April? I honestly don’t think he would mind.”
“He would mind. He’d just be too nice to say it.” She takes a shaky breath. “And regardless of all that, I don’t want to start my new job while I’m living in your guest room with my daughter like some kind of charity case. It’s humiliating.”
“You’re not a charity case. You’re my sister, and you’re in a bind. That’s what family is for.”
“I know, and I love you for offering. But it’s not a practical solution, and you know it.”
It feels like they’re going in circles trying to solve an impossible problem, but I’ve had a thought that I’ve kept to myself while I work through the logistics in my head.
I have enough empty bedrooms for Heather, April, and a few of their close friends.
I’m barely home during the season anyway, and I’m usually just sleeping or working out when I am there.
“Wait a second,” I say as the plan starts to take shape in my head. “Heather, I’m sorry for all the shit you’re going through right now. I know it has to be stressful for you. But maybe there is a simple solution.”
Again, everyone turns to look at me like I’ve started speaking a foreign language.
“Yeah?” Noah prompts, nudging me with his elbow. “What’s the solution, big guy?”
“Heather and April can just come stay with me.”