Chapter 30
Halle
After running our Saturday morning errands to buy groceries for the week and do several loads of laundry—because there is always laundry—Lennon and I spend some time down at the neighborhood park.
They have a newly updated kids’ play area, and my daughter literally turns into a monkey, climbing and sliding down all the chutes and ladders.
When we get back to the house, there’s a manila envelope with my name on it propped up against the front door.
“What’s that, Mama?” Lenni asks as she hands it to me, just as curious as I am to find out what’s inside.
I unlock the front door and look around to see if a delivery truck is in the neighborhood. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember ordering anything.”
Lenni sprints inside the minute the door swings open, running toward the kitchen to wait for the midmorning snack I promised her in the car. I follow behind and deposit the bags of groceries onto the counter, eyeing the envelope in my hand.
It’s light and has the Vancouver Vikings logo at the top. Odd, because I’m not expecting anything from work. I suppose it could be some leftover new employee benefit information, but the contents don’t weigh much.
I set Lenni up at the table and get her some Goldfish crackers and the sliced apples from the fridge, and she digs in ravenously, as if she’s never tasted food before.
I chuckle at the similarities between her and Dane in that department.
Then, unable to contain my burning curiosity any longer, I tear it open and extract a folded note.
Inside, a ticket and a VIP pass are attached together inside with a paperclip.
The note reads:
Dear Halle,
Game is at 1 p.m. I have arranged for a driver to pick you and Lenni up at noon.
(Don’t worry, the car is equipped with a newly installed kids car seat.) She will be dropped off at the Lundrens’ house, where the nanny will take good care of the girls.
You and Helena will then be routed to Cale’s house to pick up his wife, Sommer, and you’ll all sit in the Vikings’ friends and family seats.
You’ll receive passes for downstairs and the family lounge—Helena knows how it works, so don’t worry—where we’ll join you post-game.
I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight.
Root for #25 tonight.
Dane
Butterflies flitter in my belly and then turn to anxious flutters when I check the time on my phone. Son of a biscuit! It’s already eleven a.m. and I need to shower and get myself ready, as well as get together a bag for Lenni to bring.
Then I’m struck with a thought. Will we need overnight bags? Is there a sleepover planned?
Will I be staying the night with Dane?
Nerves ricochet through my bloodstream over the chance—although slim—that I might sleep with Dane. It’s been a long time. He’s literally my first and my last since having Lenni.
“Hey, sweet pea?”
“Yeah, Mama?” she says through a nibble of a cracker.
“We need to hurry up and get ready to go because we’re going to have a fun adventure this afternoon.”
Her face lights up with a bright toothy grin. “Weally? Where are we going? Disneyland?”
I can’t contain the laughter that bubbles up from my throat. My sweet little girl is in love with all things Disney princess and since learning about the happiest place on Earth, it’s all she ever wants to do and talk about. The Sleeping Beauty Castle is number one on her list.
“Not Disneyland today, baby. But remember your new friend Elise?”
“Uh-huh.”
I get a washcloth from the drawer, wet it in the sink, and do a quick cleanup of Lenni’s face and hands.
“Well, you get to play at her house today. Won’t that be fun?”
Suddenly, her features grow serious with a scrunch of her face. “Will you be there, Mama?”
Although she’s come out of her shell considerably since starting at the Vikings daycare, there have been a few times during her drop-offs where she’s gotten very emotional and clingy.
I suppose it’s natural and just a stage she’s going through, but it makes my heart hurt so much to have to let go of my baby. It’s the perils of parenthood.
I stroke a hand over her shiny—albeit tangly—blond hair and offer an encouraging smile.
“No, honey. I’m going with the grown-ups to the hockey game.”
To my surprise, Lenni leaps from the chair with a whoop of excitement. Then she spreads her legs in a jumping-jack motion and raises her hand in the air, making a chopping motion that resembles splitting wood. I stare at my daughter in disbelief.
“Let’s go, Ax!” She dances around and continues to chant and chop. “SKOL, SKOL, SKOL!”
I’m momentarily stunned at this display of Vikings pride.
“Where did you learn this?” I mimic the gesture, and she grins, another characteristic strikingly similar to her father.
“From Ax,” she states proudly, then runs off toward her bedroom, leaving me standing in my kitchen and realizing I’ve just lost all control over this situation.
Her father has already influenced his daughter and endeared himself to her.
I stare down at the note again. And to me, too.
* * *
The game is a nail-biter, ending in a tie in regulation and going into OT. As the crowd thins for bathroom breaks and concession-stand runs during the fifteen-minute intermission, Helena and I explain to Sommer—who came clean about not being a hockey aficionado—about the rules of OT.
“Because they’ve tied, they’ll go into a five-minute overtime period, and the first team to score wins,” Helena says, taking a sip of the beer she’s nursed for the better part of the last period.
She’d mentioned earlier that she’s become a lightweight after she finished nursing Ingrid a few months ago.
I can totally relate, although I never was much interested in drinking beer in the first place. If I have a choice, I’ll go for a cocktail or two, but wine and beer don’t really do it for me.
But who needs booze when this night has been a blast. The three of us have clicked in a way I’ve never had with women outside of Carmen.
We all come from different backgrounds and are in different places in our lives, but both Helena and Sommer are solid, genuine people.
They are down to earth, friendly, and not focused on fame or being social media influencers.
In fact, I took a selfie with both women earlier, and Helena requested that I not post it on any social media. I hadn’t been planning on it but asked her why.
Her eyes grew sad and downcast. “It’s hard to be the wife of someone who has a lot of fans.”
She left it at that, and I made a point not to press any further. But I’ll ask her for the story later if she’s comfortable sharing.
Sommer, also, is easy to talk to. I was taken aback when she told me the incredible way she and Cale met and got married on the same night. As the saying goes, when you know you know.
I wish I were that sure about anything in my life and could decide that quickly. I’m always riddled with indecision and uncertainty about what I should or shouldn’t do.
Case in point: Dane.
Sommer’s follow-up question draws me back to the conversation.
“So, what happens if neither team scores during overtime?”
“They have a shootout!” I exclaim, then lean in with a wide grin. “And Cale had the best record in the league last season for shootout goals.”
Sommer’s face brightens with the heat of a blush, and she chews on her lip. “Oh.”
Helena gives her a friendly bump on the shoulder with hers. “How does it feel to be married to the captain and highest scorer on the team?”
“Strange. Weird. Unreal.” She turns her eyes down to her lap, where her hands are clasped in a tight grasp. “Obviously, I’m not a hockey fan, so this is all new. I didn’t know Cale was a hockey player when we met. He’s just a nice guy.”
“Nice? That’s what attracted you to him?” Helena prods, eyes flashing with teasing mischief. “Come on… not his eyes, or his chiseled features… or that flow?”
Sommer giggles, shaking her head. “Flow?”
Helena and I exchange a look and laugh. I pat Sommer’s knee. “You have a lot to learn about hockey, my friend.”
The way she describes Cale’s compassionate nature has me thinking of Dane and how he’s not only interested in me, but is stepping up for Lennon. I guess you could say he has stake in the game and is doing it for the right reasons.
As if reading my thoughts, Sommer quirks a knitted brow.
“You haven’t mentioned much about you and Dane. There’s something going on between you two,” she observes. “Are you going to spill the tea with us?”
I’ve tried keeping my interest in Dane’s game tonight low-key and under wraps, cheering loudly for the entire team, not just Ax’s performance. But I’m not known for my poker face. I’m sure my interest in him is displayed like a billboard sign in Times Square.
“Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on. We have history, but it was short-lived. I guess we’re just exploring what it looks like now.”
“If you want my opinion,” Helena adds, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “I think it looks really good on you both. I’ve never seen Dane so smitten. And it’s no secret he has a reputation for being…”
“A player?” I interrupt on a laugh.
“Yeah, but not in a bad way. There’s just a lot of turnover, and he’s not into serious relationships. But you”—Helena pats my thigh with her gloved hand—“are a good fit for him. You’re responsible, stable, smart, and so damn cute.”
“Thanks,” I say, blushing at her compliment. Sitting with these two women gives me the courage to share a little more. “I do like Dane… a lot. But I have more than myself to think about.”
They both share sympathetic looks and let the conversation drop. Soon, the refs return to the ice, and the teams skate out of their respective tunnels.
“Ooh, look,” Sommer exclaims, pointing to the ice. “They’re ready to play again. This is so exciting. Let’s go, Vikings!”
Our attention returns to the center of the arena, and we chant and cheer together for our team, the men we’re rooting for looking like the Vikings they are as they head into overtime play.