Chapter 63
GOOD LUCK COMES IN TWOS
FLETCHER
Leaving Lydia and Thea is actually physically painful.
Every block I drive away from the apartment hurts my soul.
How do the other guys do this? I want to stay home with them, cuddled up and there to help Lydia with everything she needs.
My mom and Grace are there with her, but it still doesn’t feel right.
I’m leaving a piece of my heart behind.
How is it that less than forty-eight hours after Thea was born, I’m heading to play another game?
The worst part is, we leave early tomorrow for the two-game away stretch of this series.
I’ll be gone for three days. Who knows how much Thea will grow in that time?
I hate that I’m missing this, that Lydia will be without me.
Yes, my mom will be there, but I won’t be.
I get to the arena and head into the locker room to prep for warm-ups. I wave to Vivi as I walk through the tunnel, and she offers me a whispered congratulations. I nod, smiling.
Everyone on the team knows Lydia had the baby since I missed practice yesterday and this morning, but per Lydia’s wishes, we are keeping her off social media.
We’ve even asked that, at any family events, she either not be photographed or have her face covered.
Admin was completely willing to abide by our request, and for that, I’m grateful.
I want my daughter to watch me play and greet me at the plexiglass at warmups, but not if the team wasn’t going to grant our request for privacy.
I know fans will probably photograph her, and there’s only so much we can do about that, but we’re trying to control what we can, especially after Lydia’s mom sent private photos to the press.
When I walk into the locker room, a few of the guys are sitting around with their headphones in as they get their gear on, zoning in for the game. The playoffs are always a different kind of vibe in the locker room. Some guys are even more superstitious, but for me, I only need my good luck charm.
I sit on the bench and dial Lydia. She doesn’t answer, but she might not be by her phone. I give her a minute before I call again.
No answer.
Something may be wrong. Lydia could have a delayed postpartum hemorrhage. She could be bleeding out, and I’m stuck here at the arena. So much could be going wrong, and I’m not there. Unbridled fear sinks deep into my bones.
I call my mom.
She answers quickly, and her voice soothes the anxiety right away. “Hi, honey. What’s up?”
“Is Lydi okay?”
“Sleeping,” Mom answers, and I sigh in relief. “Why? Is everything okay?”
“I talk to her before every game.”
“You talked to her before you left.”
“No, I mean like…” I rub my hands over my face. “I have to talk to her.”
I don’t know how to explain this to her, but hopefully she’ll understand.
“Oh, I see,” Mom says with a chuckle. “She went to rest for a while since Thea ate and is calm. Can it wait?”
I look up at the ceiling. I can’t wake Lydia up, not now. “Can we FaceTime instead, and I’ll talk to Thea? That will work.”
A moment later, the call switches to video.
My beautiful baby girl’s face fills my screen, and there’s an ache in my chest, this time from missing her. “Hi, my little ladybug. Are you having fun with your grandma?”
She, of course, doesn’t answer, but her blue eyes are wide.
Thea is a near-identical copy of her mother, with the same eyes, nose, and chin.
She’s absolutely beautiful. I couldn’t love her more if I tried.
I talk to her for a few minutes about how much I love her and her mom, as her eyes droop shut, finally staying closed.
Her mouth pops open into a little O-shape as she sleeps.
I talk for another minute before saying, “Okay, I should get going.”
When my mom pans the camera back to her, her eyes are welling with tears. “You’re already a great dad.”
My own eyes sting. “Thanks. Tell Lydia I’ll call her when I am on my way home.”
“I will.”
We hang up, and I tip my head back. I wasn’t able to talk to Lydia, and maybe it will mess up my superstition ritual, but I got to talk to a piece of her, and that’s perfect.
We win the game three to one, with me scoring two of the three goals. It was an incredible game, but I’m itching to get home. I do my cool-down exercises and shower quickly, heading back to my locker in record time.
“Heading out?” Trigg asks, his voice lilting.
“Yep. I don’t want to miss any more time at home than I have to.” I grab my phone and scan the screen to make sure I don’t have anything important from my mom or Lydia.
“Makes sense. How is Lydia doing?”
“Good. She’s an amazing mom already.”
“I do not doubt that for a second,” Trigg says. “Get home, we will see you in the morning. Tell Lydia I said hi.”
“Will do.” I turn to leave the locker room, waving to everyone as I do. As I walk through the tunnel, I click Lydia’s name on my phone screen, putting the phone to my ear.
“Hi. Good game.”
“Thanks, beautiful. How are you doing?”
“Sore but good. I finished feeding her a few minutes ago, and your mom is burping her now.”
“Need me to stop and grab anything on the way home? Did you eat dinner?”
“Your mom made me a BLT. I don’t need anything else besides you.”
I walk a little bit faster. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Okay, I love you.”
I can hear Thea begin crying in the background.
“I love you, too. I’ll be there soon.” We hang up, and I sprint to my car, climbing in and backing out of the spot immediately. Thankfully, most of the post-game traffic has cleared, so I make it home quickly.
When I open the apartment door, I hear the now familiar sounds of Thea crying. My mom and Lydia are nowhere in sight, but I head down to the nursery, finding Lydia in the glider, rocking back and forth with Thea on her shoulder as she pats her back.
“Hi,” I say, drawing their attention to me.
Lydia glances up, and a soft smile appears on her face. “She’s cluster feeding.”
“I have no idea what that means.” I stride over to Lydia and lean in for a kiss. “Want me to take her?”
Lydia shakes her head. “No, she is going to want more, I think. Can you make a formula bottle? I don’t think my boobs are doing it for her right now.”
“Of course. Two ounces?”
“Please.”
I kiss her one more time and head into the kitchen to make the bottle. A minute later, I’m back in the nursery, but instead of handing Lydia the bottle, I reach for Thea. “Let me. Go take a shower, or rest.”
Lydia nods, passing Thea to me. I take my little bundle into my arms and help Lydia slowly stand. She winces a few times and walks slowly out the door while I sit in the glider. I put the bottle to Thea’s lips, and she starts guzzling it down immediately.
Before Lydia leaves the room, she stops in the doorway, turning around to face me. “I missed your call before the game today.”
I glance at her, furrowing my eyebrows. “You did, but you were sleeping. I talked to my little ladybug instead.”
“Do you call me before every game for a reason?” she questions curiously.
A chuckle bursts through my lips. “You really never figured it out, did you?”
“No?”
“You’re my good luck charm, Lydia Ward.”
She scoffs. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. I call you, or when you’re at the game, I have to talk to you somehow before every game, because something about hearing your voice makes me play my best. I can’t say goodbye, though.
Only see you later or talk later. If I say goodbye, it messes it all up.
It started back in college, and when I noticed a pattern, I stuck with it.
Can’t do a game without it. Well, until today, that is.
Our little girl stepped in and did a phenomenal job, if you ask me. ”
“So, what you’re saying is, I’m your superstition?”
“Yep. Not your average superstition, but it works for me.”
“You still lose games, though.”
“Yeah, but I play better if we talk. It’s a thing, baby. Go with it.”
“Alright.” She laughs. “Well, if it works, it works. I’m going to shower.”
She walks away, leaving me alone with our daughter. “I don’t think Mommy gets it, but it’s okay. You do, don’t you, my ladybug.”