Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Austin wasn’t certain how exactly he would describe his relationship with Lilly and he had absolutely zero interest in doing so.
He didn’t care if they were dating, friends, or just sex partners — as long as they didn’t stop.
The next few weeks were…different. No, better. And if someone had asked him, better than what? he would have answered, everything.
Every night without Lilly was torture. Every night with her vibrated in his chest as if his favorite song was playing there.
He had originally intended to leave it at just one night, but even as she bit his shoulder in the pool to stifle her screams, he knew he was fooling himself.
One night wasn’t enough to satisfy his desire for her.
Neither was a week. Or two. He couldn’t say beyond that.
He saw Lilly pretty much every day, if not in person, then on FaceTime.
And while she used to hand him off directly to Delfina, they now usually talked for half an hour beforehand — and afterward.
About how the preparations for her store opening were going.
About what his hotel was like and if Leon had gotten a drink thrown in his face again.
About how his games were going and how her parents were doing.
About the movies Delfina loved and Lilly hated.
About Del’s fight with a girl on the swim team.
About music, glass art, Wisconsin, Italy, and chocolate.
About the things that made her angry and the things that made her sad.
About Lilly’s inability to roller skate – a problem Austin would solve soon – and about his inability to sleep with the blinds closed because he didn’t like waking up disoriented.
About Nonna Rossi, his parents, his college majors, and Lilly’s neighbors, who were constantly arguing about the goat.
Austin could have spent hours listing other topics, but he preferred to spend his time visiting film studios in L.A. with Delfina and Lilly, cooking with them, or lying on the beach.
He was so incredibly happy that he forgot his anger. He pushed the last ten years to the back of his mind. None of the articles about Christine, in which she wrote about the magic of her pregnancy, bothered him. He was so happy that he didn’t even care what his best friend had to say.
“What are you doing with her, Fox?” Moreau muttered, shaking his head as they walked through the tunnel toward the ice.
“Grownup stuff.”
Moreau snorted. “I know that. But, shit, Fox, it isn’t going to end well.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She’s been lying to you for nine years.”
“You don’t know that either!” It seemed increasingly likely to him that Lilly had actually tried to contact him. Anything else just didn’t fit her character.
“Fox, this is what you always do when you fall in love,” Moreau whispered. “You dive right in and aren’t being careful.”
“I don’t feel like being careful anymore,” he replied sharply. “And I’m not falling in love.”
He didn’t know if he was lying, but shit, what he felt for Lilly…
“Why the hell does it smell like raspberries out here?” the coach demanded as the first players glided onto the ice. “I swear the locker room smells like unicorns have been throwing up. What is it?”
“Fox’s shampoo,” Jack West shouted across the ice. “We’ve all switched to it.”
“It’s actually for kids, but, boss, it’s amazing,” Matt Payne agreed.
“What?” The coach looked around, puzzled.
“Yeah, feel it, Coach,” Leon said, skating to the edge of the rink where Austin, Moreau, and Gray were standing. “It makes your hair really silky.” He took off his helmet and tilted his head so the coach could touch it.
Gray stared at him in disbelief. “What the hell? I don’t want to feel your hair, Alvarez, I want you to stop being a selfish jerk.
So, everyone out on the ice!” He made a crude gesture toward the ice before leaning over to Austin and quietly asking, “What kind of shampoo is that? Alvarez’s hair really is shiny. ”
Austin chuckled softly and was about to tell him the name when his phone rang.
Parker Gray glared at him, annoyed, as Moreau swung over the boards. “Turn that thing off. You know the rules: no cell phones on the ice.”
“Yeah, sorry. Right away,” he promised. Lilly promised to call today to discuss her weekend plans with Delfina – and him – so he quickly answered. “Hello?”
“Hello,” a strange female voice answered. “Are you…” A sigh escaped the woman. “Are you Austin Fox?”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Who wants to know?”
“Oh.” The woman seemed completely taken aback. “Well, this is Principal Gradwick speaking. I’m Delfina Adams’ principal.”
“Okay.”
“Well, Delfina got into trouble today, and I need to speak to a parent about her behavior, but we can’t reach her mother. She claims that you…that we should call you instead, since you’re her father?” Her doubts practically dripped through the receiver into his ear.
“I am,” he replied sharply, his whole body tensing. “What exactly is the problem?”
“Oh. Are you really? I mean, it’s right here in the file. Miss Adams apparently had your name added to Delfina’s contact details a few weeks ago, but…well, I thought it was a joke?”
“Do you hear me laughing, Mrs. Gradwick?” he asked dryly. “What happened and what do you want me to do?”
“I’d prefer to discuss this privately,” she replied weakly. “Please come to my office.” She gave him the address and hung up.
Shit. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his pulse raced. He hadn’t realized it until just now, but hearing Delfina got into trouble today was worse than You missed out on the Stanley Cup again.
What if something had happened to her? The thought made it hard to breathe.
“What’s wrong, Fox?” Gray asked, alarmed.
“Delfina, she…she’s in some kind of trouble and someone needs to pick her up from school,” he stated nervously, before indecisively turning the phone over in his hand.
The coach raised his eyebrows before asking, “So what are you still doing here?”
His shoulders sagged in relief. “Thanks,” he murmured, squeezing Gray’s shoulder. “I…shit, I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know if I can help. I don’t know… I have no idea what I’m doing, Gray!”
To his surprise, this made the coach smile. “That pretty much defines the word parent,” he murmured. “Just be there for her. Show up. That’s all you have to do. And don’t yell at her teacher. That never ends well.” He looked away. “So I’ve heard.”
Austin gave a dry laugh and took a deep breath.
Just be there for her. Show up.
Yes, he could manage that.
Delfina’s school was on the outskirts of Santa Monica and when Austin arrived thirty minutes later, his hands sweating, about a hundred students were milling about the large schoolyard, which was equipped with jungle gyms and gymnastic bars.
He didn’t spot Delfina anywhere, presumably because she was in the principal’s office, which, according to the signs, was in the main building.
The school building was striking with its yellow-painted sandstone, red flat roofs, and the occasional graffiti on the walls advising police officers to have sex with themselves.
Austin wondered if he would always feel this awful and flustered whenever Delfina wasn’t doing well, had a problem, or the school called about her.
How did you even punish a kid who had done something wrong?
He was certain he couldn’t just slap Delfina with a three-thousand-dollar fine, but he didn’t have much other experience with punishment, so he would have to get some advice from Lilly.
He hurried down the corridor, entered the office, and knocked on the door beyond, the lettering peeling off: Principal. He barely registered the secretary to his right staring at him, open-mouthed and with one hand on his heart, when a distinct voice called, “Come in!”
Delfina sat across from the principal on the edge of a chair.
Her hands were folded in her lap, but her chin was raised.
When she recognized him, unmistakable relief and bliss flitted across her face.
She smiled so broadly that Austin’s heart sank, making him feel like the best person in the world. Maybe even the universe.
Just be there for her. Show up. Yes, maybe the coach was right, and that really was what mattered with kids.
“Hey,” he said softly, gently squeezing her shoulders and stroking her hair, just to make sure she was okay, before sinking into the empty chair beside her. “What happened?”
He looked into her face and Delfina puffed out her cheeks.
Before she could respond, the principal spoke. Mrs. Gradwick was a tall woman with short black hair and severe, black-rimmed glasses. But when she recognized him, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“You… Oh, wow.” She frantically smoothed down her immaculate hair, not a single strand of which had fallen out of its bun. “It really is you. I just googled you to be sure. Until a moment ago, I thought your name was just a coincidence, but…”
“You thought my daughter was lying?” he asked sharply. He knew his tone was inappropriate, but he couldn’t even bear the thought of Del suffering because his face was on cereal boxes.
The principal’s cheeks flushed. ‘I’m sorry. It’s simply that Delfina isn’t mentioned anywhere on the internet, and I thought if she truly were your daughter, then…Wikipedia would know.”
He snorted and glanced at Delfina, who was slumped in her chair, shoulders hunched, kneading her lower lip between her fingers. She did that when she was nervous or upset, if there was no dessert, if she broke a glass, or if she was afraid of what might happen. He hated it.
“The internet isn’t omniscient,” he stated firmly, smiling encouragingly at Delfina before turning his attention back to the principal. “What exactly happened? Why is Delfina in trouble?”
The principal took a deep breath and leaned back in her executive chair. “She had a falling out with her classmate David. He’s a huge hockey fan, and apparently, they were talking about the L.A. Hawks, and Delfina…