3. Sean
I’ve played hockey my entire life. I could handle a puck before I could talk. And I fought for a starting roster spot for the last five years. Years. And this is the year that I’ve finally made it. I finally secured a spot. No more farm team. No more fears that I’ve made the wrong decision for Violet and me. I can finally sleep at night knowing that I’ll be able to support my family and me, no matter what.
But Violet is six now. I can’t believe it. She’s grown up so fast. She’s starting school. And as excited as I am for the season, I’m equally as nervous as for what I’m going to do to keep her life as consistent as possible. Hockey might be my world, but Violet is my life. It’s important for a child to grow up with consistency and a sense of security. Being her father is the most important job that I have. And I won’t let anything distract from that.
Not even hockey.
Victoria, Violet’s mother, and my ex, works in the city in finance. It’s an insanely demanding career, twelve to sixteen hour workdays. She’s a good mother. We’ve both played our roles to set Violet up for the best life possible. But that means she’s not exactly my best caregiving option for away games. And unfortunately, my parents just moved to Florida to start their retirement, so my options for support this season are going to be a lot more limited.
Luckily, playing in the NHL comes with a pretty hefty salary bump. And the season doesn’t start for another month. So I have time to find a solution. But not that much time.
That’s where Connor comes in.
I kick off my shoes as I walk into his house. I guess house is the wrong word. “Where are you guys?” my voice echoes. Their house is more like an estate. We live in the same neighborhood, The Glades, which is nice, but they definitely scored the best home. I suppose being married to a corporate attorney helps.
I think back to my first year with Victoria. We had all these same plans. Big house with a big family. But our bigger personalities meant it didn’t work out. Now my plans look a little different. I’m happy for Connor and Tanner, though. This is their dream. And they look like they’re every bit as happy as they deserve.
“What’s up, man,” I say, pulling Connor into a hug. Connor is a big guy, our goalie. I’m 6’5 and Connor is an inch or two taller than me even. His big arms squeeze around my shoulders as he tries to get me to pull away first.
I’ve come here to meet their new nanny and find out about hiring someone myself. If this whole process has been good enough for them, it’ll be more than good enough for me. No one has higher standards than Tanner. Besides, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas. This is probably going to be my best option.
“You want a drink, man?” Connor asks, calling out over his shoulder. He leads me through the large entryway and into the open-plan kitchen.
“Nah, I’m actually going to hit the gym real quick after this. I can’t stay long,” I say, waving to Tanner who sits at the dining room table off to the right.
Tanner looks up long enough to smile, and then is back to work on his laptop, I assume taking over some poor company with a legal loophole no one saw coming.
“All right, well. This is Heather. Heather, this is Sean Daniels,” Connor introduces us. Heather stands from her spot on the couch to meet me.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking her hand.
“You too.” She smiles, sweeping her deep, red curls over her shoulder before taking her seat in the living room.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve said I don’t want anything. Connor is from the South. He brings us each a coffee before taking a seat. Hospitality is ingrained in him.
I perch on the edge of the chair as I take a sip of the drink to be nice. “So, Heather, Connor tells me how helpful it’s been to have you. What made you interested in becoming a nanny?”
“I love kids, I have my teaching degree, actually. There are just no jobs currently at the school I want to teach at,” she starts to explain. Heather is nice. Extremely qualified. Overly qualified. But I know Connor and Tanner are good guys and I’m certain that they’re compensating her better than the school system would.
Most people might not be sensitive to this, but I am. My mother was a teacher. Thirty years. She retired in June, but not with nearly as much as she deserved.
“So, Heather was just telling me about her friend who is looking for a job,” Connor chimes in.
“Oh, yeah. Astrid. She’s amazing. She has a master’s in education. Has been a teacher for?—”
I cut her off. “She’s your friend?”
“Best friend. She actually works at that school and?—
“She’s hired.” I pull out my phone. “Is all right if you give me her number? I’d really like to have someone start next week if possible. I’d like to make sure Violet adjusts as well as she can before I leave for our first game.” If this person is half as qualified as Connor has said Heather is, I’ve made my decision. I don’t care about her personality. In fact, it’s better if I don’t want to get to know her. The less attached I get the better.
Heather just stares at me blankly as if I’m the strangest man she’s ever met. In her defense, I probably am. I’ve always been straight to the point.
Connor told me about his last nanny leaving. Their son, Jake, cried for days. He’s five, so it makes sense that he didn’t understand. But Connor cried too. They’d become friends. I don’t need more friends. I have my teammates. I have Violet. That’s enough.
This last year leading up to making the team, I was stricter with myself than ever before. That’s meant focusing on sleep, nutrition, drills, and lifting. My entire day is filled with either hockey or Violet. I don’t go out. I don’t do anything that won’t further my career. So I plan on continuing that mentality now.
“S-sure. Her name is Astrid Kinsley,” Heather says, remembering finally that I asked her a question. She takes my phone. “There you go. She’s expecting your call, so..” She swallows, looking nervous. “You really don’t want to know anything else about her?” She looks from me to Connor and back again.
“You said she works at the school?” I clarify.
“Yeah,” she says.
“Has a master’s degree?”
“Yeah…”
Then she’s already gone through a background check and she’s clearly more than qualified. “Nope. That’s perfect. That’s all I need to know.” I stand, shaking her hand again, then turning to Connor. “Thanks for the coffee, man. I’ll see you later.”
The less I know about Astrid, the better. I want to be as far removed from her as possible. As long as my daughter is happy and safe, that’s all that matters. And this will be a smooth transition.