Chapter 8
NOVA
“She likes you.” Mari drops into a chair outside on the patio behind the house.
I sigh. “I like her.”
I adjust Emily on my lap, bouncing her gently in the way I’ve learned she prefers over the past two weeks.
“Keep her,” my sister offers.
I look over in surprise to see Mari watching, a half smile on her face.
“You’re only saying that because you didn’t sleep last night. Besides, I’m the cool aunt. I’ll dye her hair and drive her to parties and all the things you won’t do.”
“Not until she’s at least sixteen,” Mari says.
“Ten,” I whisper.
Emily blinks up at me with her big, blue eyes. She’s so beautiful, with her perfect fingers and fingernails and dark hair.
“I can already tell she has Harlan’s determination. And my stubbornness,” Mari says.
“Those are the same thing.”
She sticks out her tongue.
It’s a gorgeous fall day, the breeze rippling through the trees and cutting through my sweater, and Emily’s wrapped cozily in her sleeper. I wish we could stay like this for hours, the three of us.
I lift Emily and pace the patio.
“You want to have kids?” my sister asks.
I bite my lip. “Maybe. At the right time and with the right person.”
“But not Clay.” She latches on with the precision of a surgeon.
I look over my shoulder at Mari, adjusting the baby in my arms. “Enough with the hard questions.”
He and I haven’t talked except for a couple of texts since I left.
I said I needed a break, and he’s been observing it perfectly.
Too perfectly.
Mari snorts. “Does he understand how lucky he is? For every talented player who busts their ass, there are a dozen just as good who don’t make it.
Who never get to play in the championship finals.
Harlan would kill for what Clay has. He enjoys being a GM, but he misses being a player. It’s the consolation prize.”
“Clay can’t see the lucky part right now.”
She shrugs. “He’s a selfish man, and guys like that don’t change. Don’t hate me.” She lifts both hands. “I’m saying it as someone in your corner. You wouldn’t have come back if things hadn’t fallen apart between you in LA.”
“They didn’t fall apart,” I correct, though I’m not entirely sure what I’m correcting. “We both needed space.”
“For how long?”
Until I recognize the man I fell in love with.
Until I know what I should do next.
On some level, I wish he’d rush to my side and say that I was right and he knows what he wants and we can be happy. Because when he wants something, he won’t let it go.
He didn’t agree to the break, but he didn’t try to stop me either.
I might be more relaxed, but dammit, I’m still left wondering what’s going on in his head.
I’m just doing it from a distance rather than up close.
“Stay as long as you want,” Mari continues when I don’t answer. “We love having you around.”
Before I left LA, there were times when it felt like living with a stranger.
Only it hurt more because the stranger was someone I loved.
But I couldn’t make him happy, no matter how I tried.
Here, I’m needed. I’m important. I matter.
Mari’s invitation feels good, but at the same time, I can’t hide out here forever.
Can I?
I have to work on the portraits I promised Annie Jamieson’s studio. Still, I could start on that here.
“I need my painting stuff from LA. I could go get it. Or ask Clay to send it.”
“Get someone else to send it for you. Then you don’t have to deal with whatever mood he’s in.”
I bite my lip. I do feel better since I came here. More relaxed, more grounded.
I glance toward the house. “When does Harlan usually get back from the office? I could make dinner.”
“He’ll pick something up. And he’s been coming home early to take over. He misses her when he has to stay away.”
I’ve managed to mostly avoid spending time alone with him since getting here. Though my sister and I are on more stable ground, I still feel betrayed by the way Harlan handled things with Clay.
As if on cue, the man in question appears, a takeout bag at his side.
“You brought tacos!” Mari sighs. “I love you. And now I know you love me.”
“Love is ground beef and house-made tortillas?” he prompts.
“Today it is.”
Harlan crosses to his wife and drops a kiss on her forehead before turning back to me.
“Let me help you.” I pass Emily to her father and take the bag before following him inside.
“Busy day?” I ask for something to say.
“We’re getting the roster organized for this year. Trying to fill gaps and manage expectations.”
“You mean James’s expectations.”
He shifts Emily into one arm, grabs a bottle of wine, and pops the cork. He gets two glasses from the cupboard. The ease of his movements reminds me he played professionally once. He’s coordinated and graceful for a guy who wears a suit to work now.
“I’m sorry for what happened with the trade. I really tried to get Clay to stay. James had his own ideas.” Harlan slides a full glass over to me. “But it seems it worked out for the best. Clay got his championship.”
“I’m not sure it was for the best.” I take a sip of wine, the smooth red dancing over my tongue. Harlan will never be my closest confidant after how he handled things with Clay and with me, but I need his input. “He hasn’t signed anywhere. He doesn’t want to play. I’m worried about him.”
My brother-in-law bounces the baby in his arm, ignoring his wine.
“You’re not wrong to be concerned. Back in college after the truth came about around his girlfriend’s relationship with another man, he played Final Four like a machine.
At first, I thought perhaps he was coping extraordinarily well. But later, it became clear he wasn’t.”
I don’t pretend to multitask. All my attention is on Harlan.
“At the ceremony, he didn’t smile once. He withdrew. We didn’t see him for weeks. He shut out the team, his friends. He wouldn’t let anyone be there for him.”
I think of what’s happening now. “What got him out of it?”
Harlan sighs. “That I can’t answer. I wish I could.”
I set the plates on the island hard enough they clink loudly before opening the takeout bag. “You should have tried harder.”
Emily stirs, and Harlan rocks her in his arms before looking at me.
“Doesn’t work that way, Nova. He has to want to save himself.”