Chapter 18
18
Later That Night
Wyatt
W e sat that night on the couch, our couch, and I could practically feel the tension of all the what ifs.
What if she was pregnant? What if she wasn’t? What if she went back to recording and performing and I went back to playing hockey and we never saw each other again?
None of it was settling in my gut right.
“I don’t think I’m going to like this,” she said as I hit the rent button on Predator, and the opening music set the tone.
“I told the planet it was your favorite movie, you have to at least watch it once,” I told her. “And no fake screaming like girls do.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know how girls get,” I said.
“Oh, this should be good,” she said, clearly getting ready to take the feminine high ground. “How do girls get?”
My brain said, proceed with caution. Out of my mouth came:
“ Oh, it’s so scary, look at all the guts and blood .” I mimicked in a high pitched voice.
“Wow. You do not do girl very well at all.”
I snorted. “You only get to scream if you’re actually scared.”
“I’m a grown woman, by the way, and I don’t fake scream at anything.”
“Good,” I grunted.
I’m pretty sure we weren’t thirty minutes into the movie and already she was screaming.
“It’s not that bad,” I said calmly. “You’re not even looking.”
“He ripped off his head!” she shouted, and buried her face into my shoulder. “How can that not be bad? Why would anyone watch this?”
“Says a lot about a person who claims it’s her favorite movie.”
“Wyatt, turn this off now,” she said sternly.
“Fine.”
A short time later we were watching a Netflix documentary about some scam artist pretending to be a real doctor.
“See,” she said, shaking her head. “I told you he was a fraud. That poor woman thought he was going to marry her and the whole time he had another family.”
“I think you’re missing the point,” I reminded her. “He was performing surgery and he wasn’t a doctor.”
She tilted her head. “Also bad. But as someone who has been lied to by a con man, I’m just saying I can relate.”
“Are we talking about John again?”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t tell me there was someone worse.”
She sighed. “You don’t know about Paris?”
I thought back to stories I knew about Syd and something Bea said about a brouhaha in Paris.
“No.”
“I was…taken in by the police for questioning,” she said, pulling her green blanket up her body. She was making a point of not looking at me and it was obvious she didn’t want to talk about this, but for some reason that convinced me we needed to talk about it. “But they let me go.”
“You were arrested?” I asked her.
“Not arrested,” she insisted. “Taken in, and then released.”
“I’m going to need this story.”
“Why? It’s not a good one,” she muttered.
Because I care about you. I couldn’t say it though.
“Tink,” I said, in my tone that suggested she cough up the details.
“Fine, I was dating Sam Jacobs-”
“Fake dating,” I pointed out. She hadn’t dated anyone. Not even me.
I knew who Sam Jacobs was. He was a lead singer for a mildly popular rock band. A few hit songs, but someone who would ultimately be forgotten.
“Fake dating,” she said. “Anyway, Sam was all talk. All the time. You could never believe anything he said. We were at a club, he got drunk and started a fight. Then it turned out he had a gun. The police arrived and it was mayhem,” she said with a stiff shrug. “They handcuffed a lot of people, not just me.”
“Where was he? When you were getting arrested-”
“Not arrested! Taken in for questioning. They let me go once they knew I had nothing to do with it and we broke up after that,” she said, using rabbit ears around broke up.
“Fine, where was he when they were putting you in handcuffs?” I pushed.
“Hiding in the bathroom,” she said, as if she was embarrassed for him. “Turns out he can start a fight but not finish one.”
I got to my feet, suddenly pissed. “Honestly, Syd, you have to start protecting yourself from these assholes Tyler sets you up with.”
She sucked in a breath so deep the oxygen levels in the room dipped. Not expecting my sudden ire.
“Why are you mad?”
“Because the next time this kind of shit happens, I won’t be around to save you!”
That was a mistake. The second the words left my mouth I knew it was a mistake.
She curled deeper into the couch. “I don’t need you to save me.”
“Syd…”
“No,” she snapped. “I get it. Stay away from the assholes when you’re gone. Got it. And what about you? What happens to you when I’m gone?”
I scowled because I could almost feel the gaping hole opening up in my chest. “I go do what I do. I play hockey.”
She nodded. “So you’re not retiring.”
I heaved a sigh. “I don’t think I know how.”
“Well, maybe that’s best for you. You can have all the control you want on the ice.”
I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Uh, control freak much?”
“Am not,” I said stubbornly, even though I knew it was a lie.
She sniffed. “Oh please. You’re already trying to have control over my future life when you’re not even going to be in it. If I asked Liam what you were like growing up as an older brother, what would he say?”
One of us had to be in control in the family.
“Maybe it’s a good thing your half-brother didn’t grow up with you,” she continued. “He would have been just one more person for you to tell what to do.”
Immediately, Syd covered her mouth with her hands like she could push the hurtful words back inside.
Sydney
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, to his stricken face.
“Don’t apologize,” he said and then leaned down to pick up the blanket that had fallen to his feet when he stood. “You’re not wrong. I do try to control things.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. About Nick,” I whispered. “I was just upset because you made me think I’ll always need saving. But you’re right. I haven’t taken care of myself. I need to do a better job of it. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“I’m sorr-” I swallowed the rest of the words and just sat there, curled in on myself, feeling miserable.
The air between us was stiff and cold. I felt like I’d lost him and I didn’t know how to get him back.
“This is crazy,” he said, still not looking at me. “Look at us, fighting like a married couple. It’s almost like I’d forgotten…”
“About what?”
His eyes met mine and I felt like I was breaking in two.
“That we’re not real,” he said.
I tried to blink away the sudden tears.
We were suddenly blasted with beams of light slicing through the cabin windows.
“The fuck?” Wyatt said, shielding his eyes. “No one knows we’re up here except Liam. And the only person he would have told…oh no.”
“What? Who? Is it bad?”
It felt bad. I got up from the couch and edged a little behind Wyatt. Then I remembered he wasn’t going to be around to take care of me forever. I needed to figure out how to do this on my own.
“Prepare yourself,” Wyatt said with a deep sigh and stepped away from me, like he needed to establish distance between us for whoever was walking in the door.
The rumble of a large engine came to a stop and the headlights turned off, making the cabin darker than it had been. I could hear the heavy thumps of someone climbing the front porch. And then… bang bang bang . Even though I anticipated it, I still jumped and barely swallowed my scream.
“Should I be scared?” I asked Wyatt.
“Sort of,” Wyatt mumbled as he made his way to the cabin door and threw it open.
A mountain of a man with a fuzzy beard, wearing jeans and a red flannel shirt, stepped inside. His wild beard and hair were fully white against the backdrop of a ruddy sun and wind burned face.
Maybe it was nerves, but I laughed.
“Santa Claus?” I whispered.
“Dad, what the fuck are you doing here?” Wyatt asked.
Okay, that made more sense.
“A father can’t come see his newly wed son and meet his famous bride?” Wyatt’s dad turned to face me and I saw Wyatt’s brown eyes in his weather-worn face. “Hello there, I’m Daniel Locke, this knucklehead’s father.”
He marched across the cabin to shake my hand. His hand, much like Wyatt and Liam’s, was massive and calloused. He winked at me and I couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Sydney Malloy,” I said.
“Well, Sydney, let me get a look at you.” Daniel said, taking a step back and assessing me from top to bottom. “You’re a tiny little thing.”
“Dad,” Wyatt barked. “What are you doing here?”
“Liam told me he met Sydney, and once I knew that, I couldn’t not meet her. Didn’t seem right.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Locke…” I said.
“Danny, honey. My friends call me Danny. Actually, they call me Dannyboy, because they think they’re real clever, but we’ll stick with Danny for now.”
“Danny, you know we’re not really together,” I said. I was not about to lie to a man who looked like Santa Claus. “It’s only for appearances…” the words stuck in my throat.
Because Wyatt was right. It was almost easy to forget we weren’t real. When we’d felt like the most real thing I’d ever known.
“It’s not a real marriage, Dad. We’re just lying low for a little bit before making the announcement,” Wyatt said, like he felt nothing.
“Of course I know,” Danny said. “Shotgun Vegas wedding. Honestly, Wyatt, I expected those kind of shenanigans from your brother.”
“He’d definitely be better at it,” Wyatt grumbled.
“You got anything to eat or drink around here?” Danny asked, smacking his lips. “Driving up that mountain in the dark is enough to drive a man to drink.”
“Have a seat,” Wyatt said, and stepped forward to belatedly hug his dad. “Good to see you, Dad.”
They pounded each other on the back and I saw that their relationship was as full of gruff affection as Wyatt’s relationship with Liam. It was really very sweet.
Danny collapsed with a heavy sigh into the recliner we never used. “Place looks good Wyatt,” he said, looking around at the art I’d picked out and we’d hung up last week. “Real homey.” He looked over at me and lowered his voice. “You’re a good influence on him.”
I smiled but kept my mouth closed. For some reason, I felt like crying.
“Whiskey good?” Wyatt asked, pulling the bottle down from the cupboard where he kept a couple of good bottles of booze. One night we’d gotten drunk as skunks on a bottle of tequila he had up there. We’d danced in the moonlight and he’d chased me…
Stop. Stop thinking about it.
“You know me, son, I’m not picky,” Danny said and kicked off his shoes, making himself comfortable.
“Sydney?” Wyatt asked, and his politeness killed me. “You want a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
“Tea?” He asked, and I caught his eye across the cabin.
I’m sorry , his eyes said. I don’t want to fight .
Me neither, I tried to say back.
“That would be lovely,” I said through a pinched throat.
“You know,” Danny said. “Your brother said I had to see the two of you in action to understand how all this went down, and I can see it now. Opposites attract and all that.”
“Well,” I laughed. “There was a lot of tequila involved.”
“Don’t get romantic about it, Dad,” Wyatt said, and handed him a glass of whiskey.
“Oh, don’t spoil my fun,” Danny said. He took a sip and smacked his lips. Wyatt went back to the kitchen and put a tea bag in my favorite mug and put the kettle on. “A man needs to get romantic about some things and why shouldn’t it be love?”
“I’m a romantic too,” I said with a laugh. “I mean, I write enough songs about it.”
“I love how it comes out of nowhere, you know?” he asked and I nodded, because I understood now how that could happen.
“Dad,” Wyatt said in a warning kind of voice.
“Come on now, son. You know I’m right,” Danny said. “Look at me and your mother.”
“Oh, how did you two meet? If it’s okay for you to talk about her,” I asked.
“I love talking about her, Sydney. Even if it hurts my heart.”
I sat on the couch, legs folded underneath me. Wyatt had told me a little about the hard times with his mom. I thought it might be nice to hear the good parts too. To know a part of this woman who had a hand in making Wyatt who he was.
She’d raised two good men. I knew that much.
Wyatt sat next to me on the couch and if it was any other time, I’d curl right up to him. But after the argument we’d had and the arrival of his dad, I wasn’t sure what Wyatt wanted. He was looking down at his glass of whiskey and giving me nothing, so I stayed on my side of the couch.
“I met Wyatt’s mother on a cold, miserable, wet night in October,” Danny said. “It was pouring rain, sleeting actually, and she was walking along the side of the road, alone, in a coat too thin to protect her. Her arms wrapped around her so hard they practically circled her body twice.”
“What are you talking about?” Wyatt interjected. “Mom said you met at the diner in downtown Barre. She’d just moved to Vermont and got a job as a waitress at Hometown’s where you ate breakfast every day.”
Danny’s eyebrows, which were nearly as fuzzy as his head of hair and beard, dipped over his nose. “Who’s telling this story?”
Wyatt sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Danny turned to me. “What Wyatt said is true. Belinda was a waitress in my town’s local diner. She never wanted you to know about the night in the rain. She was proud and didn’t want to upset you boys. So we always told you the easier version of the truth.”
He sighed and I could tell he was struggling to keep his emotions in check. I reached over and rested my hand on his forearm. He patted my hand, took a sip of his whiskey and continued.
“Anyway, it was pitch dark, just on the outskirts of town. I was coming back from a game. I coached the high school hockey team back then. I saw her walking on the side of the road and I pulled over to see if she needed a ride. Of course, she said no. It was plain as day, she was scared out of her mind. Back then, I looked pretty much how I do now, except I was more of a black bear than polar bear, so I understood her concern. Still, I couldn’t just leave her there. What if the next guy who drove by wasn’t nice like me? So I just slowed down alongside of her and tried to keep pace with her. I rolled down my window and explained, I wouldn’t get out of the car, but I’d escort her into town. And I tossed my coat out the window for her. She said thank you and I just started talking. I told her my name, what I did for a job. Eventually, she must have figured out I wasn’t going to hurt her because she stopped walking, and when she did, I stopped too. Surprised the heck out of me when she got in my truck. Asked her where she was going and she said she needed to find a cheap motel room. Instead, I took her to Granny’s. Granny is this miserable old woman, mean as a possum, but would rent out rooms in her big old house to people who needed a safe place to stay. Granny took one look at Belinda and immediately went into rescue mode.”
“Wait? Mom stayed with Granny?” Wyatt questioned. “Granny hated everyone in town.”
“Everyone in town except your mother and me. Anyway, she got her all set up for the night and Granny told me Belinda would need a job. I was to pick her up first thing in the morning and take her to Hometown’s because they were always looking for waitresses. Sue Ellen had left town to be with her biker boyfriend. Something that everyone thought was a huge mistake, but there was no telling Sue Ellen anything when she got her mind set on something-”
“Dad,” Wyatt interjected. “We’re talking about Mom.”
“So we are. I have a tendency to wander in my stories.”
I shrugged. “I have a tendency to wander in my songs. Critics say it’s because I’m not disciplined, but I just like to see where the story goes.”
“I adore you already,” Danny said, and I matched his wink with one of my own. “Anyway there’s not much left to it. I picked Belinda up the next morning and drove her to Hometown’s. She didn’t say a word on the drive over. I walked her inside, introduced her to Betty and she was hired on the spot. And I knew right then and there.”
“Knew what?” I asked.
“That she was mine. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health. She was mine.”
I sighed. It seemed so improbable, but there wasn’t a thing about that story that didn’t sound absolutely true.
“And when did you find out that she’d left behind another family? Another son?” Wyatt’s voice had an edge and I reached past all his Do Not Disturb signs to put my hand on his shoulder. It was hard as a rock and I stroked him until he calmed down.
Danny tilted his head. “Son, I ate at the counter of Hometown’s every day for almost a year before she would even agree to have a cup of coffee with me. It wasn’t until after you were born that she finally told me. At that point, I did reach out to a lawyer to contact the child’s father. To talk about joint custody. He basically told me to go fuck myself. He was the child’s parent and it wasn’t likely a court was going to give custody to a woman who…who…”
“Abandoned her son,” Wyatt said flatly.
“Wyatt,” I hissed, watching the hurt cross Danny’s face. “You don’t have to be cruel.”
“Leaving behind that boy haunted your mama her whole life,” Danny said. “All her troubles-”
“Troubles?” Wyatt scoffed.
“Belinda could get real low,” Danny said to me. “Would take to her bed for days at a time.”
“It’s called depression, Dad. It’s called untreated depression and we never talked about it. We never said the word out loud. Do you know how fucking terrifying and confusing that was for me and Liam?”
Danny blinked his watery dark eyes. So much like Wyatt’s. He opened his mouth like he might explain himself, but in the end he closed it again.
“I’m sorry,” Wyatt said with a heavy sigh. He shook his head and I knew that he was trying to pull himself together. Bring everything back under control. “That was… uncalled for. It’s been a long night, Dad, you must be tired from the drive.”
Wyatt stood up like the conversation was over and I waited for Danny to say something, to apologize or explain, but he was happy to have Wyatt change the subject. I saw so clearly how he must have been relieved to have Wyatt be so responsible when he was a kid. How he didn’t try to fight it.
“Dad, you can have the bedroom,” Wyatt said. “Let’s go get your stuff.”
“I don’t need to kick you out of your bed,” Danny said, and Wyatt and I looked at each other. He smiled a little, the tension between us thawing.
“You’re not,” Wyatt said. “We like the pull out.”
“Now that is weird,” Danny said and heaved himself to his feet.
Wyatt
“Well, she’s a real breath of fresh air, isn’t she?” Dad said as I followed him out of the cabin. “I’m going to need your help getting my bag out of the truck. It’s real heavy with my c-pap machine.”
The second the door closed behind us and we were far enough away from the porch that we wouldn’t be overheard, Syd had already headed back to the bathroom to get ready for bed, I stopped. And waited until he turned around and saw my very unamused face in the glow of the moonlight.
“You’re not going to help an old man out?”
“Cut the old man crap,” I told him. “You’re sixty-two and probably as strong as I am. Why didn’t you warn me you were coming?”
“I’ve left you about a dozen messages, son. It ain’t my fault you’ve been too busy to look at your phone.” He waggled his eyebrows at me but I only bristled harder.
“I didn’t want to deal with all the noise from everyone,” I muttered.
“Liam called after he left you two in California and said she’s the one. So I wanted to get up here and find out for myself if he was right. He was.”
“The one what?” I asked, purposefully obtuse.
“The one for you,” he said and poked me in the chest. “You can’t fool me, Wyatt. I know you too well.”
“You’re being ridiculous. That was a very sweet story about how you met Mom and immediately knew she was the one-”
“It was the truth.”
“I’m not disputing that, but that’s not me, Dad. This thing with Syd was just a crazy night that got out of hand. As soon as it doesn’t cause her any embarrassment, we’re going to get divorced and we’ll both move on with our lives.”
“Why?”
I adored my dad, but sometimes it was like having a conversation with a toddler.
“Why what?”
He shrugged and started walking to his truck. “Why do you have to get divorced? Why don’t you just stay married and see how it goes?”
“Because this is real life Dad. Syd doesn’t fit into my life and I sure as hell don’t fit into hers.”
“You haven’t really tried-“
“Can you imagine me on red carpets, Dad? Did you see that interview I gave to that woman? I was a fucking disaster. And you tell me, is she like any other WAG you’ve ever met? Ready to drop everything for my career? No way. Wouldn’t work.”
Dad opened the back seat of his truck and I walked around him to pull out his overnight bag. It actually was pretty heavy and I grunted as I slung it over my shoulder.
“Son, have you taken one too many pucks to the head? How can you not make it work with a sweet, talented, incredibly beautiful woman?”
“Famous. You forgot famous.”
“Fame is fleeting. You marry the woman, not the job.”
“She’s not a small town waitress Dad. She’s a global pop star. We don’t work together. We don’t fit. She is the opposite of what I want, and I am not what she needs. Trust me, Syd is the last woman on the planet I would ever marry . So stop playing matchmaker.”
I turned back to the cabin and stopped when I saw Syd on the front porch.
My stomach curled into a ball and died. My heart went with it.
“I thought you were getting ready for bed?” I said, a little roughly, a dark feeling spreading inside me.
How long had she been there? Did she hear me saying she was the opposite of what I wanted?
Wasn’t she, though? We had to face the truth sometime, tonight seemed as good a time as any.
“There’s a spider in the sink,” she said quietly, her hands clasped together. “A big one. For real this time.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
She nodded and went back inside.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.
My father clapped me on the back. “That sinking feeling you’re having now, son, is shame. Because you hurt her. She overheard you being a plumb-”
“Idiot, I know.” I snapped.
Dad walked in ahead of me and I stood on the porch looking up at the stars. If you asked me two weeks ago what I would do if I could turn back time, I’d say let me redo the second period of game seven of the last Stanley Cup Finals.
If you asked me right now… I’d redo the last ten minutes.
I never wanted to hurt Sydney. And that’s just what I did.