Epilogue
Grady
May…
The room is painfully quiet. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was sitting in here all alone.
I wish I were. But even though my eyes are glued to the concrete floor and I can see nothing but the sweat dripping off my face and hair, creating a puddle between my skates, I know I’m not alone.
The room is filled with guys who gave it their everything and came up with nothing.
A minute, maybe two, later, Abbott breaks the silence. “We are not going to do this.”
His tone is firm enough that it forces me to lift my head.
Abbott is standing next to the bin that collects are sweat-coated gear.
He pulls off his jersey, which has crimson staining the white around the neck.
Blood from when he took a high-stick to the face in the second period and needed stitches.
He tosses it in the bin. “We are not going to act like we fucking lost the Cup. We didn’t.
To really lose it, in my opinion, you gotta be in the Final and we weren’t. ”
Is that supposed to help, I wonder, and then he continues. “We lost the conference finals. We lost the chance to play for the Cup, but we should still be proud. Because we fought hard. We didn’t lose because we shit the bed or because we suck.”
I drop my head and look at the floor again. And then I feel Landon’s hand on my shoulder. He must have gotten up and crossed the room. I know it’s his hand by the familiarity of the touch. I know him now like I know my own skin. “Grady, look at me.”
I look up. I can see everyone staring at us.
The two besties… who spend an odd amount of time in each other’s hotel rooms on road trips.
But… no one asks, and we don’t tell. If they did ask, we would tell.
That’s our pact. “You did nothing wrong, Grady. We lost in game seven in triple fucking overtime. Anyone who blames the goalie for that knows nothing about the sport.”
Guys mutter their agreement. Maybe one day that will lift the guilt from my shoulders, but not tonight.
Landon turns to the group. “This didn’t feel any different than what it felt like to win last year.
You guys are fucking champions. I feel it.
We’ve got what it takes, but luck… luck said fuck off.
Next year, or the year after, it won’t. The fickle bitch will bow to us, and we will make it to the finals. ”
“And we will fucking win,” Abbott adds and claps his hands. “Feel this. Absorb it. And then bottle it up and turn it into willpower. I love you guys. Do it again next year.”
There are a few confident, “yeah.” And “next year!” affirmations. The speeches were amazing. I’ll cherish them one day when the sting that feels like a wound I’ll never heal from actually wears off.
When I get through the painful necessity of the press conference, I shower and dress and find Landon leaning against my car in the player lot.
We drive in together all the time now because I’m back in the Braddock cottage with him.
Angie is living in my place until the baby is born.
It’s an oddly perfect arrangement, and Angie seems happy with it.
I love living with Landon, and we’ve started looking for our own place.
A house we buy together, so we can start off the baby’s life in our very own home.
It’s ridiculous how easy my life became once I let it.
“They asked about the baby. Tonight of all fucking nights,” Landon grumbles as I pull out of the spot and start out of the garage. “I mean, fuck, I just lost a huge game. Season’s over, and some idiot asked if my surrogate was here watching.”
“They love a good scandal, and a player having a baby without a wife is definitely a new one,” I remark. “I heard them ask Abbott if it matters to him that he hasn’t won the Cup since coming out.”
“You are fucking joking!”
I shake my head. “Now I think we should definitely keep our relationship under wraps until we win next year. Then reveal it to the first reporter we talk to afterward.”
“Or just make-out on the ice during the celebration.”
I smile. “Or I could fucking propose during the celebration. Lift the Cup, kiss it, hand it to you, and then get down on one knee. The fucking media would self-destruct. So would the league commissioner.”
I laugh, but it isn’t until a minute later, as I get on Route One, that I realize Landon hasn’t laughed or said a word. I glance over at him. He’s staring at me. “I’d be fine coming out like that.”
Oh. My heart stutters, tripping over its own happiness. “I gotta still be on the team for that to happen.”
“You will be,” Landon assures me. He got a contract extension right before the trade deadline. I’m still waiting for something to come in before July, or I’m a free agent.
“I love you.”
“I know,” Landon replies. “But feel free to show me by fucking the bad feelings over this loss right out of me. Or letting me fuck them out of you.”
“Both. This may require both.”
June…
When I get home from the gym, I’m surprised to see Landon pacing the front porch.
He likes to sleep in during the off-season.
I’m still an early-riser. Plus, I wanted to swing by the arena in Portland and wish Harlow luck.
She has a qualifying event for the Olympics.
If she makes it, she’s telling the family about this secret.
I know she’ll qualify. She’s incredible out there.
And her partner, in an odd twist of events, is a former hockey player.
A goalie I know well, partly because he’s also related by marriage to Landon.
Duke Hendricks is my cousin’s ice dancing partner.
I’ve been allowed to tell Landon, but no one else.
So I’ve got the news on the tip of my tongue as I walk up the stairs to the porch.
“Hey! You’re up! I’ve got news…”
Landon’s face is whiter than snow. His eyes are much wider than they should be as they dart between the phone in his hand and my face. “She’s in labor.”
“What? Now? How?”
All stupid questions, but Landon doesn’t call me on it. He just blinks a lot and says. “We have to go.”
“Is she at home?” he nods. I grab his arm and lead him out the door and back to my car.
We get Angie to the hospital in record time, but not so fast that her panting and grunting doesn’t freak me the fuck out.
She kept saying she wasn’t going to give birth in the car, but I didn’t believe her.
Turns out she was right because it’s been two hours and I’m still pacing the waiting room.
Winnie is sitting calmly next to Holden, casually texting all the family members.
Baby Girl Casco is early, but the doctor reassured us that isn’t abnormal, and she was a healthy weight at the last check-up. She should be fine. My phone buzzes in the pocket of my track pants, and I nearly hit the ceiling. I see my agent’s name.
“Not a good time, Clark,” I whisper into the phone.
“Sorry,” he says. “When is a good time to tell you the Riptide has offered you a fucking killer three-year deal. With a no-trade clause, just like Casco.”
I stop pacing. Something that had been rolled up tight inside me unravels, and I‘m flooded with a sense of relief. “I accept.”
“I didn’t tell you the money yet.”
“I don’t care. No trade. Three more years with…” Landon. “The Riptide. I accept.”
“Well, that’s easy but a tad irresponsible.” Clark quips.
“Landon’s baby is coming, right now.”
“Shit. Fuck. Okay. Go. We’ll talk tomorrow or whenever.”
“Accept it, Clark.”
“Done.”
I end the call and slide the phone back into my pocket as Landon appears in the doorway, eyes swimming in tears and a smile like I have never seen on anyone’s face, ever. It’s bright and breathtakingly vulnerable. “She’s here. She’s healthy. Angie is good.”
I grab him in a hug, and Winnie claps, and Holden hugs her. He squeezes me but pulls away, grabbing my wrist and dragging me down the hall. “Come meet Randie Casco, named after my grandpa, Randall Braddock. She’s gonna be a big part of your world now… if you want.”
I yank my wrist free from his grip and then properly lace our fingers together. “Of course I want. I want everything to do with you.”
“Even if you get traded?”
“We can talk about that in three years,” I tell him. “Because I just accepted a new contract.”
“Holy fuck… You didn’t tell me?”
I kiss his cheek. “Your news is much more important.”
July…
“I’m going to put her down for a proper nap. Or try,” Landon says as he gets up front the rocking chair on my parents' front porch. “Let’s see if she can sleep somewhere other than on one of our chests.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” I smile up at him, and the pudgy little person who has become the second biggest love of my life. Randie’s eyes are closed, and her little mouth is pouty. She’s not a great sleeper, but we wouldn’t trade her for all the shut-eye in the world.
Landon heads into the house. I turn back to my guests, who are my cousins Tate, Conner, Theo, Harlow, Mae, Tenley, and Liv.
They all came over for brunch. The whole family did.
My uncles and aunts are inside with my parents.
It isn’t an official welcome to the family party for Landon and Randie, but it’s an unspoken announcement.
“Cute baby,” Theo says, and I think he means it, but his tone all summer has been grumpy. I don’t take it personally. He’s been sober for only two months, so his mood is still rocky.
“She’s adorable.” I agree.
“And… so… like… I’m just gonna throw this out there, but like… are you and Landon co-parenting her?” Mae asks and shifts awkwardly in her chair, twisting her fingers in the hem of her tank top nervously. “It’s not my business or anything, but you two… are… seem close and stuff.”
“I think what Mayhem is trying to subtly ask is, are you guys dating?” Tenley, always the bull in the china shop, asks bluntly.
I hold my breath. “Yeah.”
“I fucking knew it!” Theo jumps out of his chair. “I knew Harlow didn’t put that Grindr app on your phone!”
“That app is long gone,” I reply.
“Ha! Randie and Dex can grow up together!” Tate announces, talking about his own new baby boy, who was born a few weeks before Randie.
“Or Dylan and Dex can bully Randie relentlessly like you goons did to me, Shelby, and Tenley,” Harlow notes, pointing at all the male cousins on the porch.
“You all just found out I’m gay and… nothing?” I ask. “No one has anything else to say about it?”
“Did you want one of us to care what gets you hard?” Liv asks shocking all of us because she’s usually the definition of timid and demure. “Please. All we ever care about in this family is that everyone is happy, healthy, and safe.”
“Yeah, we’re boring as fuck that way,” Theo mutters.
Landon walks back out onto the porch, a triumphant smile on his face. I sit straighter. “She’s sleeping in the crib?”
“I never made it there, your aunt Callie swooped in and is playing the role of a crib,” Landon says. He leans in and whispers. “She also told me not to hurt you, ever, or she’ll come for me.”
I laugh. “So I guess everyone has figured it out.”
Landon notices all eyes are on him. “You all know?”
Everyone nods.
“Welcome to the family, Landon,” Mae announces with a smile as she stands up. “Who wants to head to the lake?”
“Me!” Harlow jumps up.
“Sure. Maybe I’ll luck out and drown,” Theo grumbles, and Harlow smacks the back of his head. “Owe! I know. Not funny. Sorry.”
One by one, they all begin to leave. Tate pauses to give Landon a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Word of advice. Don’t blow off Aunt Callie. That woman can be scarier than a serial killer.”
As Tate wanders into the house to get Mallory and his kids, I stand up and wrap my arms around Landon from behind. “Think it will be this easy when the world finally catches on?”
He sighs. “Yeah actually, I do. Because we have all these people backing us up. Fuck the rest.”
He turns his head, and our lips brush in a kiss. “I got you. And Randie.”
He grins, and then Landon steals my trademark move and winks. “Randie and I got you, too.”
He turns around in my arms, and as Landon’s lips touch mine in a proper kiss, the sun breaks free of a cloud and light pours over the porch. And I promise myself and the universe that I will never hide in the dark again.