17. Luke
LUKE
After confessing to Bertie about my obsessive thoughts of her going into labor and being the one to have to deliver the baby, I thought I might feel better. Instead, those thoughts sunk even deeper into my brain and wouldn’t let go.
It’s how I find myself now leaving a fire station a few towns over. After calling numerous places and explaining my predicament, down to even confiding about my OCD, this was the only one that would let me attend a class the firemen were having for training.
Bradley, one of the firemen, claps his hand down on my shoulder as he walks me out. He has gray hair and the fluffiest mustache I’ve ever seen. He took me under his wing when I came in.
“It’s okay to be a nervous, first-time dad. We’ve got you, kid,” he had said, putting me instantly at ease.
Now, he says to me, “You’re going to be a great dad, kid. Feel free to swing by the station once you get a car seat and we’ll get it installed for you.”
Great, I hadn’t even thought about that yet. It’s terrifying to think I might install something so crucial wrong. “I’ll probably have moved by then,” I admit.
Bradley shrugs. “Stop by any station near you then. We’re always happy to help.”
I take a deep breath. “Thanks. I appreciate all this.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “No worries. I just hope you feel better.”
I do, actually. I successfully delivered the dummy baby three times. My mind feels calmer knowing that if something happened where we couldn’t get to the hospital, I would know what to do.
“I do, believe me.”
Bradley gives a deep chuckle. “I’m glad we could help. You stay safe now.”
“Thanks.”
I get behind the wheel of my truck and ring Daire before I pull out. There’s something else I need to take care of today.
Daire pushes a button to close the door. “See, I told you man, the minivan is the superior dad car. The doors slide open and it makes getting in and out easier. Imagine trying to open the car door and wrangle your kid inside when another car is parked close. This makes it so much easier.”
He has an excellent point. I still feel a little sick though over the prospect of buying a brand-new vehicle, even if I know it’s necessary.
“I’m just saying, it’s life changing.” He holds his hands up innocently. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” He hops into the vehicle and sits in one of the backseats. “And look, the seats even recline so if you have to pull over for the kid at least, you’re comfortable.”
The salesman peeks inside the vehicle. “I think we need to give you a job here.”
Daire chuckles and grips Sammy’s hands where his son hangs happily in his chest carrier. “I’m just a man who loves his minivan.”
“Can I take it for a test drive?” I ask the salesman.
He gives me a duh look, but in my defense, I’ve never stepped foot on a new car lot. “Of course. You like this one?” He gestures to the silver with black interior.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“I need your license and I’ll get the keys and be right back.”
When the salesman is gone, Daire waves Sammy’s hands in the air and says, “Sammy, tell Uncle Luke to join the minivan dad club. It’s fun here.”
“Uncle?” I ask, surprised.
Daire scoffs. “Of course. You might not be my brother by blood, but you’re my brother by hockey and fatherhood, and frankly that might be an even closer bond. So, yes, you’re my kid’s uncle and I expect to be your kid’s too.”
I duck my head as a feeling I’ve never experienced before settles over me.
I’ve always only had my mom and yet somehow over the past year or so my family has grown to encompass more people, and I’ve learned that family is so much more than who’s related to you.
It’s the people around you who love and support you. Who are there through the good and bad.
An hour and a half later I’m signing paper after paper and accepting keys to my brand-new minivan.
“You’re gonna love it, man,” Daire says before we part ways and he gets in his own vehicle.
I slide behind the wheel of the minivan, rubbing my hands over the leather covered wheel. I’ve never owned anything this nice in my entire life. It’s safe to say I’m mildly terrified of crashing it on the way home.
I keep replaying in my mind what Bradley said about a car seat and even though I know we still have some time before the baby comes, I find myself Googling the best infant seats and purchasing one to pick up from a nearby store.
I unbox it in the lot so it’s ready to go and head back to the fire station.
If Bradley is surprised to see me, he doesn’t say so. Instead, he raises his brows at the new car and says, “Nice wheels, Dad.”
“Thanks. I … uh … stopped by the store and grabbed an infant seat. This one is highly rated.”
“I know the one.” He nods, hands planted on his hips. “I’ll get this situated for you.”
He installs the seat with practiced ease and checks everything over when he’s done.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
He dismisses my praise. “No problem. I’m happy to help, kid. Now, just so you know if you’re ever in an accident, even a little fender bender you think does no damage, you need to replace your car seat. Something you think is a minor bump can ruin the integrity of the seat.”
“Got it.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “Good luck, kid.”
I drive away feeling loads better than I did this morning. I’m almost home when I pass the grocery store. It’s silly, because there’s nothing we need from there, but I turn around and go back, all so I can grab one of the capsule prizes for Bertie.
I’ve gotten her a few here and there since the first and I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of the small smile she wears every time.
I pocket the capsule and jog back to the car. It’s going to take some getting used to driving something so nice. I know most guys my age, especially after signing with the NHL, would probably splurge on a sports car but I need something practical.
It only takes me a few minutes to get home. It’s nearly dark by now. So much of the day was taken up at the dealership. I shoot Bertie a text asking her to come outside. The moment the door opens, and she spots the new car her mouth pops open.
“Oh my god, you actually did it.”
I shrug. “I figure it made the most sense to get it before we move.”
Pressing a hand to her back she makes her way over to me. Not that I would ever tell her, but she’s beginning to get a bit of a waddle, and I think it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Wow.” She peers inside. “It’s nice. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, I think—”
She pales suddenly and I worry something is wrong. My hands automatically come up, hovering around her. “Where’s your truck?”
She almost gave me a heart attack because she’s worried about my truck?
“At the dealership. I’ll need you or my mom to drive me back by tomorrow to pick it up.”
“Oh, thank God.” She breathes a sigh of relief. “You scared me there for a minute.”
“I think you’re more attached to my truck than I am.”
She gives a soft laugh. “Maybe I am.”
“Do you want a car tour?” I ask.
“Of course.” She gives me a playful shove.
I run through all the features the car salesman went over as well as the ones Daire pointed out. When I open the back door and she sees the car seat, she eyes me up.
“That’s new too.”
I shrug. She didn’t know where I went this morning, because I didn’t want my anxiety to affect her. So, I say, “I read that fire stations will help install car seats properly, so I decided to go ahead and get one and have it installed.”
“Seriously?” She arches a brow. “I should probably do the same.” She eyes her SUV parked beside me.
“I’ll take care of it.”
She grabs onto my wrist, and I hope she doesn’t feel the skipped beat of my heart. “Luke, you don’t have to handle everything. I can do it.”
“I like taking care of you.”
Her face softens and she leans in, her soft vanilla scent instantly calming me. “You’re too good to me.”
Before I can forget, I reach into my pocket and pull out the capsule prize.
She eyes it between my fingers. “Case in point.” She takes it gleefully from me and pops it open, removing the plastic ring from inside. She slips it on her pinky finger. “I love it.”
“I’m glad.” I smile. She’s close enough that I’m helpless when my eyes drop to her lips. I want to kiss her so bad.
I swear she leans in just slightly, like she’s thinking the same thing too. I swallow and her eyes jump to my Adam’s apple. Her tongue slides out just slightly, moistening her lips.
“Bertie,” I murmur her name. I cup her cheek in one hand, rubbing my thumb over her bottom lip.
She leans in even more and just when I’m about to close the distance, car lights illuminate us as my mom’s pulls into the driveway behind me.
Bertie jerks away.
And just like that, the moment is gone.