Chapter 42
MILLIONAIRE SUGAR DADDY
LYDIA
TWENTY-FOUR WEEKS PREGNANT
Fletcher
Where are you?
Me
I had a meeting with a daycare near work. I’ll be home soon
Fletcher
Where?
Me
Like two blocks from work, it’s a nice place, but I’m not sure. I can’t get a vibe on how I feel yet.
Fletcher
What’s it called?
Me
Helping Hands
Everyone’s really nice, but something about it isn’t clicking.
Maybe it’s because I’m scared to leave her with someone else and she’s not even born yet.
I’m ridiculous. Ignore me. I’ll be home soon.
The daycare owner, Tina, who has been giving me a tour, says something, but I don’t catch it.
I put my phone in my pocket and offer her a smile. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“We have a slot available starting in August.” Her voice is firm but informative as she directs me down the hall toward the infant area. “Drop-off starts at seven, and pickup is at five-thirty. Any later and you incur a late fee.”
There are still quite a few kids here, and the place is full of laughter and joy. I can’t quite place what feels off. I don’t think it has anything to do with the people or the way they run things. It’s a me problem.
The thought of leaving my daughter with near strangers every day is enough to give me hives.
She’s not even here yet. What am I going to do when she’s born, and I have to go back to work?
I can’t afford to be a stay-at-home mom, though it sounds more appealing now than it did when I first found out I was pregnant.
I love my job, I do, but maybe I could look into going part-time, at least for a while.
But then would I lose my health insurance? Ugh.
I’m barely listening to Tina as she talks about how each room is separated by age, and they have a certain number of caregivers per room. My phone buzzes in my pocket, surely Fletcher.
We continue the tour, and with each passing minute, my skin grows clammy and my heart pounds harder. Why did I do this alone? Fletcher surely would have come with me if I’d asked.
I press my hand to my stomach, where the soft flutter of my baby girl kicking helps calm me momentarily. She’s been doing that more often. The first few times freaked me out, but now, I’m constantly hoping she will flutter to remind me of the life inside me, and of my future.
“Sorry, what was that?” Tina says into her walkie-talkie. “Oh, really?”
I turn my attention to her, realizing again that I wasn’t listening.
“Your partner is here.” Tina looks at me with a look of confusion.
“My partner?” Holy crap, did Fletcher drive over here? “Fletcher?”
“That’s what he says his name is. He’s at the front desk. Said he was sorry for being late.”
I pull something out of thin air. “Oh, he must have gotten off work early. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize he was going to make it.”
If she sees through me, she doesn’t say anything, although I do sense a hint of irritation from her.
“We don’t have to start the tour over. We can just continue with him.”
“Perfect. We have pickups starting soon,” Tina says abruptly, turning on her heel to head down the hall toward the lobby.
When we enter the lobby, all the tightness in my chest eases as soon as he’s in view. He’s wearing a Minnesota Blue Herons ball cap, his branded sweatshirt with his number on it, and a pair of running pants. He must have come straight from practice because the ends of his hair are wet.
“Fletcher,” I say.
He strides over, holding his hand out for me. I take it gratefully, already feeling better with him here.
He squeezes my hand tightly and shakes Tina’s hand with his free one. “Nice to meet you. I’m Fletcher Graff, Lydia’s partner.”
Tina looks him up and down, nodding carefully. I do my best to ignore the little thrill I get from him calling me his partner.
“Yes, well, we only have a few minutes, so let’s continue.” She waves us down the hall, walking fast.
“What are you doing here?” I mutter under my breath so only Fletcher hears.
“You needed me. You were spiraling.” Fletcher looks around the room we’ve just entered.
We’re back in the infant room, where two young women are feeding the babies their bottles. When they see Fletcher, their eyes immediately widen. One of them is slack-jawed.
He waves. “Hi.”
“You’re Fletcher Graff,” one of the women says.
“Yep. Nice to meet you.”
I withhold my irritation. It’s not his fault he gets so much attention in random places. He’s a pro-hockey player and the captain of his team. Of course, people are going to recognize him.
Tina narrows her eyes at the girl and turns back to us. “Sorry about that. Now, down the hall here, we have our group play area.”
We follow her, and Fletcher subtly leans down to whisper in my ear. “Are you alright?”
I shrug. I’m definitely better now that he’s here, but I can’t stop the itchy feeling just below my skin. “I’ll tell you later.”
Fletcher accepts my answer, squeezing my hand as we listen to what Tina has to say about their facility.
All the kids look happy, so why can’t I shake this feeling?
Ten minutes later, we finish the tour, and Tina waves goodbye as we walk out the door. She gave me some paperwork and information, with lots of reminders to call as soon as possible if I want to lock in the August opening.
Fletcher drags me out to his car, which he thankfully left running. I walked here from my work, and the thought of walking the two blocks back to my car right now seems like too much to handle.
I get into the passenger seat, pull my seatbelt on, and rest my head against the headrest.
“I didn’t like it there,” Fletcher says immediately after he starts driving away.
A long sigh escapes my lips as my eyes burn with tears. “I didn’t either. I couldn’t place it, but something was off.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t just me.”
“It wasn’t.” I take a wobbly breath as I try to stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. “I don’t know what else to do, though. Nothing else has any availability, and I can’t afford to go part-time at work. Plus, I’d lose my health insurance.”
My lip trembles as Fletcher pulls up next to my car in my work parking lot.
“Hey,” Fletcher croons, leaning over and swiping a tear from my cheek. “If you didn’t feel comfortable there, you wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving our baby there. No one is going to fault you for that. It makes you a good mom, with great instincts.”
I turn away, embarrassed to be crying over this. “That doesn’t solve the problem.”
“No, but what if I had a solution?”
My head shifts over to look back at him. “What solution?”
“There’s a daycare at the arena. You’ll be off for most of the summer, right?”
“Depending on when she’s born, yeah. I’d be off until probably the beginning of August. I have some extra PTO I could use to be off another week or two, maybe.” I furrow my brows. “What are you suggesting?”
“Well, what if we look into the daycare the team provides? A ton of the guys use it. I could reach out to some of them, or we could get a hold of some of the WAGs to see if they like it. I could drop her off when I have practices, and if I’m not working, I can stay with her.”
“What about when you have games?”
“The daycare is still available. It’s year-round, all day, every weekday.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I’ve been looking into our benefits a bit more in the last few weeks.” Fletcher shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“You have?”
“Yeah. We can put the baby on my insurance, too. I know you like working, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You have options."
I shake my head. “I want to work. I like my job.”
I know I waffled a bit on that inside the daycare, but knowing what I do now, I’m already warming up to the idea. “Can we tour the daycare?”
“I’m sure we can. I’ll talk to our HR lady tomorrow and get all the info.” Fletcher cups my cheeks, kissing me gently. “We’ll get it figured out. And if we don’t, I bet my mom would love to stay with us longer until we do.”
“We can’t ask her to do that,” I say quickly. “We can’t ask her to leave her life, longer than we already are, just to watch the baby, so I can work.”
“She’d do anything for you, and you know it. You wouldn’t even have to ask, Lydia.”
The contrast between my mother and Fletcher’s mother will always shock me.
I adore Dottie and Ron, but I’m still getting used to having supportive parental figures in my life.
My mom has barely spoken more than a few words to me since talking about the baby shower, and she still rarely asks how the baby or I are doing.
My dad hasn’t reached out once, besides sending a thumbs up to a picture I sent last weekend of my bump.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I whisper, leaning forward to kiss him quickly.
Fletcher smiles into the kiss. “You’d be just fine, but we’re in this together.” He pulls back after pressing another kiss to the tip of my nose. “Now, let's get home. I have some chicken defrosting, and then I want to watch a movie.”
“Okay. I’ll see you at home.”
I get out of his car and into my own, feeling a lot better than I did an hour ago. Everything will fall into place, and knowing I have Fletcher by my side will help.
Fletcher covers me with a blanket while I pull the baby mittens I’m crocheting out of the basket next to the couch.
“What are we going to watch?” I ask as he flops down next to me, pulling my legs into his lap.
“Whatever you want.”
We had a nice dinner, and after, Fletcher reached out to some of the guys on the team who have kids. Everyone was super helpful, and it was nice to learn that none of them have any complaints about the daycare.
“I’m fine with anything,” I say, adjusting my hips a bit. My bump has started to pop this week, so everything is slowly getting more uncomfortable.
“The Princess Bride?”
“Perfect.” I settle in and start a few rows of my project while Fletcher pulls up the movie.
Once it’s started, we both get sucked in, and Fletcher mindlessly massages my ankles, legs, and thighs before moving up to my bump, resting a hand there.