49
Kennedy
The Empires made it to the playoffs, but despite a great effort, their run was short-lived.
They were out in the second round. Nash was surprisingly calm about it.
Ever since Josh had gotten traded, he’d been more at ease—smiling more, laughing, just enjoying life in a way that made everything around us simpler.
Jackson and I took out a loan and were in the process of buying the agency.
Both he and Howard were going to help me run it, but it was primarily my responsibility.
I was excited about it but nervous too. I’d planned on talking to Louise and Cory to see if either one of them was interested in coming to work for me again.
But before that, Nash and I had a weekend off for the first time in what felt like forever.
We rented a car and drove upstate to visit my parents.
I sat in the passenger seat, nerves buzzing in my chest as Nash pulled into my parents’ driveway just after seven.
His old house sat right next to mine, still familiar but with new cars in the driveway and kids’ toys scattered across the lawn.
“It’s been a few years since I was here,” Nash said, glancing around at the neighborhood. The trees were taller now, a few houses had fresh paint or new fences, but otherwise it was the same place we’d grown up in.
“It’s been almost a year for me,” I said softly. And so much had happened since then that it was almost impossible to take in. Loss, heartbreak, trials, new beginnings . . . and the biggest change of all was sitting right beside me.
My parents were waiting on the front stoop. I could tell from the way my mom wrung her hands that she was already emotional.
“Oh, Kennedy,” she cried, wrapping her thin arms around me as soon as I was close enough.
“Hi, Mom.”
Behind me, I heard Nash and my dad greeting each other. Dad asked about the drive and praised Nash on a well-played season, while Mom clung to me like I’d been missing for years.
“All right, Cindy, enough,” my dad finally said with a chuckle. “Let me hug my daughter too, yeah?”
“Oh—of course, of course,” Mom mumbled, letting go a little reluctantly.
“Hey, Cin, come here,” Nash’s deep voice came from behind me.
“Oh, Nash. It’s so good to see you,” she said, her voice still thick with tears.
“I’m so glad you’re home, honey.” Dad’s arms tightened around me, solid and steady, just like they’d always been.
“I missed you, Dad.”
“I missed you too, sweetheart.”
When we finally stepped inside, the familiar scent of a home-cooked meal wrapped around me. I couldn’t help the sigh that slipped out as my mouth watered. My mom definitely knew how to cook.
“That smells so good, Mom.”
“Good. I hope you’re hungry.” Mom giggled, swiping at the last of her tears.
“I made a lot of food. Rob said it was probably too much, but you know how I get excited and . . . well, you know.” She threw her hands up in that familiar way she always did when she was embarrassed or couldn’t quite find the right words.
It made me smile because it was all so completely her.
“I’m definitely hungry, Cindy, and I’ve missed your cooking,” Nash said. We hadn’t even been home ten minutes and he’d already scored bonus points with my mom. “Don’t you worry, I’ll eat it. It won’t go to waste.”
I watched my mom giggle like a little schoolgirl.
My dad, who was a few inches shorter than Nash and a whole lot leaner, chuckled as he clapped a hand on Nash’s shoulder. “You eat, son, just like you’re still growing.”
Nash shot him a wide grin and winked at me.
“Suck-up,” I muttered under my breath.
Dinner didn’t disappoint. Mom had made a chicken and pasta dish that used to be the Reed boys’ favorite when we were growing up, and Nash was ecstatic.
He ate at least two full portions, and I couldn’t blame him.
For once, he didn’t have to think about what he ate. It was his turn to relax and enjoy.
It felt like old times, only now we were grown-up versions of ourselves. And I was relieved that my parents hadn’t made a big deal out of Nash and me dating.
“What are your plans now, Nash, when you have some time off from hockey?” Dad leaned back in his chair. His hair was thinner on top and grayer than I remembered, but his blue eyes still carried that same mischievous twinkle I’d grown up with.
“We,” Nash began, gesturing between us, “and some friends are going down to Florida next week. We’re gonna stay at my parents’ place and just relax by the beach for a while.”
“Sammy’s coming,” I added quickly. I knew Mom loved her.
“Oh, good.” Mom’s whole face lit up. “How’s she doing with her new place? Does she miss you?”
“She loves her new apartment,” I said, “and honestly, I don’t think she misses me at all.” Mom’s smile widened, and Nash chuckled. “She’s happy on her own. The bakery is getting more and more custom cake orders, and you know that’s her favorite thing.”
“That makes me happy. She’s such a sweet girl. You two were lucky to have each other as roommates in college.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said softly. I was still lucky to have her in my life.
“Is Jackson going?” Dad asked.
“Yes.”
“Is there enough room?” Mom’s brows pulled together. She was always concerned about the practical things.
“Yeah, there is,” Nash assured her, setting his wineglass down before explaining the layout of the house.
He described the extra bedrooms, the big living area, even the outdoor patio, and I caught the way my mom’s shoulders relaxed as she nodded along.
Nash had always been able to win her over without even trying.
“I hadn’t realized there was a bedroom in the pool house,” I told Nash.
“There’s a pull-out couch. Not technically a bedroom, but it’s got a full bath, so it works.”
“I’m sure Mitch won’t mind.”
“No.” Nash chuckled. “He’s stayed there before.”
After dinner, I helped Mom clean up while Dad and Nash wandered into the family room. Mom loaded the dishwasher while I put away the leftovers—not that there was much, thanks to Nash. Then I washed the pots and pans while she dried, just like we used to when I still lived at home.
“I heard from Jackson that he’s thinking about moving down to New York City, something about the two of you buying a business together,” Mom said, fishing for details in that casual-not-casual way she always did.
“Yeah.” I handed her a clean pan, which she dried while I rinsed out the salad bowl. “We’re buying a small advertising agency together.”
“That is so smart, honey.” Mom lowered the towel and just looked at me, pride shining in her eyes. “You two always worked so well together. Jackson’s more outgoing and daring, and you’re more organized and realistic. I think it sounds like a great idea.”
She was spot-on, of course. But then she was our mom. No one knew us better.
“I hope so,” I admitted with a little laugh. “I’m excited, but it’s also really scary.”
She smiled and gave my arm a little pat. “I have no doubt that if the two of you put your minds together, you’ll succeed. And with Nash’s support, Kennedy . . . that boy has always been able to make magical things happen.”
“Mom.” I sighed, surprised.
“I know, honey, but he’s such a good boy. Or—man, I guess.” She giggled. “He was always your biggest supporter. And you were his, even when you didn’t realize it.”
“Yeah? You think?”
“Oh, I know, sweetie. The way that boy looked at you growing up? That was love, Kennedy. Liz and I always thought the two of you would end up together.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But I’ll admit, I started to doubt it when you went off to different colleges. And then when you took that Chicago job . . .”
I nodded slowly. She was right. Back then, I’d thought I needed distance, a break from Nash. Watching him with other girls had been too painful, so I’d made the choice to go somewhere he wouldn’t be. That was how I’d ended up choosing Ohio while he went to Michigan.
And yet, here we were.
“Come on, let’s join the men.” Mom put the towel away, grabbed the half-full bottle of wine, and headed for the family room. I collected our glasses and followed her.
· · ·
We spent Saturday morning hiking with my parents, but Saturday evening was just ours.
Nash took me to Mario’s, the Italian restaurant that had been there for as long as I could remember.
It was the kind of place that catered to everyone.
Parents brought their kids, and couples came for date nights.
It had a casual pizza area with a few rust-colored booths where the high school kids liked to hang out, and a fancier section with white tablecloths and dim lighting.
The decor was dated, nothing like the sleek restaurants in Manhattan or LA, but the food was good, and the atmosphere was friendly.
I loved that Nash had chosen that place instead of taking us out of town.
We’d been taking a trip down memory lane all day, pointing out old landmarks along the way—our elementary school, the post office, the town hall—so it was very fitting.
We’d even swung by the high school and the rink where Nash had first played league hockey.
It was all a reminder of where we’d started.
After dinner, Nash drove us back to my parents’ house and parked behind Mom’s car in the driveway.
“Go for a walk with me?” he asked, turning toward me.
“Sure. Where do you want to go?”
The street was dark and quiet, but the faint glow of the streetlights cast everything in an unnatural yellow haze.
“I want to show you something,” he said, slipping the car keys into his jacket pocket.
“Okay.” I smiled.
I buttoned the beige trench coat I wore over a blue sweater and black skinny pants. It was spring, and though the days had been mild, the night air still carried a chill.