Chapter 14
Distracted, I miss a pass I could ordinarily make blindfolded. My timing is off, my focus is shot, and Coach Badaszek finally pulls me aside after I accidentally check my own teammate during practice.
“Sheridan, got a glitch in that hockey machine of yours? You’re playing like your head is in a bowl of marshmallows.”
I think of the hot chocolate contest with Nina’s homemade marshmallow addition and then the hot chocolate o’clock family chat. I clear my throat. “Just processing some family stuff.” Very much an understatement.
Twins.
Mya and Kai are twins, separated as babies by my sister, who apparently thought dividing siblings was an acceptable solution for whatever mess she’d gotten herself into.
Now Mya—a ten-year-old girl who’s been hiding in Nina’s bakery, surviving on whatever food Kai could sneak to her—is living in our house.
Nina’s house.
I show up to town, to Nina’s life like a wrecking ball.
In short order, I learned that Mya’s father is MIA, travels a lot for work, and her nanny—who she communicates with in Thai—has been worried sick.
Brock, her father, hasn’t been home in thirteen months.
He just keeps the payments coming and the lights in their Silicon Valley mansion on.
What kind of life is that for a kid? My sister really knows how to pick ‘em.
“Family stuff, huh?” Pierre appears beside us, having overheard.
Our captain, Liam, asks, “Want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.”
The team gathers around me whether I want them to or not. These guys have unexpectedly become my brothers over the past few months, and part of me wants to spill everything. But another part of me—the part that’s been trained since childhood to handle problems privately—keeps my mouth shut.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I say.
“Right, that’s why you just tried to body check Pierre into next week,” Jack says skeptically.
“That? It was more like a brotherly love tap,” Pierre says with a teasing grin as if he hardly felt it.
Despite everything, I almost smile. These guys have a way of making this situation feel manageable. Of making hockey fun. Of feeling like a brotherhood in a way not even all those years with the Warriors did.
In a serious tone, Hayden says, “Whatever is going on, you’ve got people in your corner. Don’t try to shoulder everything alone.”
The comment reminds me of Kai doing just that.
Grady clips me with his stick. “And before everyone forgets we’re a bunch of dudes and gets mushy, we need you playing at your best, Sheridan. So whatever is going on up here,” he taps his temple, “can’t join you out here.” This time, he pounds the ice with his stick.
They spend the rest of practice crushing me in drills—their version of a pep talk, apparently—but it actually helps. The physical exhaustion clears my head enough to start thinking logically about our situation.
Mya found Kai through social media after seeing him on the Jumbotron at one of my games.
She ran away from her nanny, which suggests her father has plenty of money but hasn’t necessarily doled out attention or affection—she made her way to Cobbiton to find her brother.
The twins have been secretly reuniting for weeks, which explains all the strange pranks and oddities at the bakery.
Needless to say, there are some gaps to fill in.
Now we have two kids who need stable homes and legal guardians, and I have no idea how to navigate any of it.
I try calling Desi from the locker room, but, of course, her phone goes straight to voicemail. When has my sister ever been available when I actually need her?
So I call Dad.
“Ready to fold on married life?” His voice booms through the speaker with his particular brand of passive-aggressive subtext that used to cause me to question myself, but now just makes me tired.
“I need to ask you something about Desi. Did you know she had twins?”
His silence is long enough that I check that the call didn’t drop.
“Dad?”
“She had Kai and a daughter,” he says finally. “She gave the girl to the father. Said she wasn’t ready to be a mother of two.”
“But she kept Kai.”
“Your sister has always had her own way of doing things.”
“Doesn’t make it right,” I say, then explain, “The daughter—Mya—she found Kai. She showed up in Cobbiton and now—”
My father’s reply comes sharply through the line. “Well, that’s unfortunate, but it’s not really our problem, is it? You’ve got enough on your plate with the boy.”
The casual dismissal hits me like a slap shot to the chest. “She’s family.”
“She’s a stranger, Lane. And you’re already in over your head with this marriage situation. Speaking of which, have you given any more thought to what I said about Nina?”
“What about her?”
“About protecting yourself. About not getting too attached to someone who might not stick around when things get difficult.”
I think about my wife last night, the way she immediately rose to the occasion when Mya appeared. The way she didn’t hesitate to declare we’d figure it out together. The way she steps up when it matters most.
“She’s the only sure thing in my life.”
“But what if you’re wrong?” His voice softens like we’re in on a secret. “What if this is all just temporary? What if she’s just playing house until something better comes along?”
The question hits every insecurity I’ve been trying to ignore.
Before I can spiral too deep, my stepmother’s voice comes from the background. “Is that Lane? Let me talk to him.”
My father grumbles, and to be honest, I’d rather deal with her than Dad on even the worst of days.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Sabrina says, her voice warm in a way that makes me wonder why she tolerates her husband.
“I couldn’t help overhearing. Why don’t we fly out to visit this weekend?
The Mustangs have a few days off. We’ll give you and Nina some time to figure things out without little ears listening.
And we’ll spoil them—there’s that indoor water park hotel not too far away.
What’s it called, ‘Splash & Stay?’ I bet they’d love that. ”
From what little I know, Sabrina was never able to have children of her own, and having met my father later in life, grandkids are the next best thing. She makes a generous offer, but something about it feels like retreat. Like admitting I can’t handle my own family.
“Thanks, Sabrina, but—”
She interrupts, “Sometimes adults need space to make adult decisions. And sometimes children need grandparents to let them stay up way too late watching movies and give them cookies and milk before bed while those decisions get made.”
Gratitude swells up in my heart for her while it battles with resentment for my father. Finally, I agree. And after I hang up, I sit in my car in the arena parking lot, staring at my phone, seeking distraction and trying to figure out how my entire life feels like it’s in tangles and tatters.
That’s when I notice the text from my lawyer following up on Brock’s whereabouts.
I glimpse the lock screen preview. My agent is also concerned, which is an understatement.
Given his comments, I look over my shoulder to make sure a hitman isn’t about to take me out.
I turn back to my attorney’s message. It seems somehow safer than Vinny’s.
Brad: The media is picking up the story with photos from the festival. Speculation about Nina’s son and your marriage. We should talk.
My blood turns cold. I pull up the sports gossip sites and there are photos of Nina, Kai, and me at the festival with headlines like Lane Sheridan Jr.’s Secret Family and Small-Town Baker Lands NHL Star for Big Bucks.
The worst one shows Nina laughing with Kai, with a caption that reads Sources suggest Bruun may have hidden her son’s paternity to trap the injured player into marriage as her bakery faces financial difficulties.
I tell myself to sleep on it. But I’m restless for the rest of the week.
We have some away games and when I get back, dry land training kicks my butt.
The thing is, my shoulder doesn’t even scream at me once.
It’s all the noise in my head. I keep my nose down and grind through the workouts, but afterward, the tenuous reality of this situation comes back at double the volume.
In short order, I received several messages, most notably one from the school about photographers and press attempting to talk to Kai.
They assured me that it goes against school policy and privacy protection laws for minors.
I was told Kai is fine, but they’d like to speak to me at my earliest convenience.
Why am I feeling like I’m in over my head?
Let’s see: the other night I found Kai reading under his covers at midnight with a flashlight.
Nina thought it was sweet—she did the same thing as a kid.
I think it’s a problem since he’s falling asleep in class.
We argued in hushed voices outside his bedroom door until Nina reminded me that loving books isn’t exactly a sign of future truancy.
Then, Mya went silent for the evening after Nina denied her after-school cookies because her homework was unfinished from the day before. The house felt arctic until Nina baked Mya’s favorite cinnamon rolls and they negotiated a homework-first, treats-second treaty.
Then the two of us experienced mutual failures.
I missed Kai’s parent-teacher conference for a late-running practice, leaving Nina to handle it solo.
I admit, I completely forgot. She was furious until she took a nap one afternoon a few days later, didn’t wake up in time, and was twenty minutes late for school pickup, finding two worried kids waiting with the principal.
The solution: we called an official family meeting around the kitchen table.
I made hot chocolate. She added marshmallows.
We hashed out our house rules. Homework before treats, lights out means lights out, and everyone gets one “mulligan”—a mistake without harsh consequences—as long as they learn their lesson.