17. Sam #2
My own heart squeezes in my chest. I’m happy for all my friends who are in love. They get to spend the holiday with their guys. For some reason that realization feels like a pit growing in my stomach.
“Are you still going to your aunt’s house?” Riley asks, watching me hesitantly.
I frown. “Yeah. My aunt hosts every year. Jameson helped me pack earlier so I can leave with Dylan right after the game.”
They’re all quiet until Emma asks, “What is Jameson doing for Thanksgiving?”
“He said he’s working at the shop. They’ve been super busy. He’ll go home over the weekend to see his dad or his dad may come up here and he’ll bring Dylan to see them then,” I tell her shrugging, making that pit in my stomach grow a little larger.
Riley looks like she wants to say something, but our coach enters the room.
It's game time. She gives us our reminders, tells us the other team’s starting lineup, and offers a few words of encouragement before we’re heading out to the ice.
The arena is only half filled this afternoon as most have headed home for the holiday.
This makes it easier to spot Jameson and Dylan in the crowd.
I smile when I see that Dylan has been changed into her jersey.
I’m starting to think she may be our good luck charm for wearing it.
I skate past the boards and wave to her.
She’s practically dancing in Jameson’s lap when she sees me.
“My little bestie is the cutest,” Emma says next to me as we skate to our places for the face-off.
“I’m just happy she seems to love hockey like she does,” I tell her shaking my head. Hundreds of voices fill the air, but I swear I can hear Dylan’s peals of laughter over all of them. I smile behind my face guard and get down into my stance, waiting for the puck drop.
Riley and the other center swat at the puck, but my bestie is a magician. She knocks the puck back to me, and I skate it over the blue line into the other team’s zone before passing it to an open forward who shoots and scores. Within the first two minutes of the game, the score is already 1-0.
“This may be our easiest game of the season,” Riley says as she skates by me.
“Didn’t even break a sweat?” I ask her with a smirk. She pretends to wipe her forehead.
By the end of the first period, we’re winning 4-0.
The rest of the game is the same. Before the beginning of the third, we’re up 6-0, and Coach makes the announcement that our third line will be playing the majority of the period.
Our shifts are up to three minutes each.
I barely see the ice anymore and spend most of my time hyping the team instead.
The other team scores one goal with two minutes left.
As much as I wish our goalie had a shut out, we still win 7-1.
After the game, I shower quick and make it out to the main area where I’m immediately pounced upon by Dylan.
“Mommy won!” she screams in her little voice, catching the eyes of many around us. Her cuteness is contagious though, and she has everyone smiling and laughing with her antics.
Emma comes out soon after and makes sure to get her Dylan love in before she leaves.
Riley and Isla also stop by to squeeze my girl before they leave.
After my friends have left, Jameson takes my bag and hoists it over his shoulder.
With his free hand, he takes mine in his and we walk out of the arena together.
He sets my stuff in my trunk and holds Dylan extra-long during their goodbye.
Tears sting my eyes and I almost feel sick.
I watch as he lovingly tucks her in her seat and buckles her in.
Her little hand stays on his cheek, her fingers rubbing his scruff.
Ever since she was little, she would giggle at that feeling on the palm of her hand.
He hands her her favorite blanket next and she looks ready to conk out.
Jameson closes her door and turns to me. “At least she should sleep on the drive.”
I nod, my hands settling on his hips. “Yup. It will be a quiet drive for me hopefully.”
He nods and glances away from me. His throat bobs and I want to ask him what's wrong, but he pulls me into his body before I can. My arms wrap around his back, and he holds me tighter. I feel his lips against the side of my head.
“Drive safe. Can you text me when you get there?”
“Of course,” I tell him and kiss along the side of his neck, right under where the tattoo of my lips sits. I feel him shudder and then he’s leaning back and kissing me hard.
I’m breathless when he pulls away. “Happy Thanksgiving, Sam. Tell your family I said hi.”
I can only nod, still feeling the way my lips tingle. “I will. You too.”
Jameson makes sure I get in my Jeep and I see him in my rearview mirror, waiting until I’m driving out of the parking lot.
My heart aches and guilt blooms in my stomach.
Leaving for my aunt’s house doesn’t feel how it normally does.
It feels wrong driving away from Jameson, the loneliness of not having him next to me sits heavy in my chest.
Three hours later, two of which Dylan slept before we had to stop at a gas station and let her use the bathroom, we pull into my aunt’s neighborhood.
It may be the day before Thanksgiving, but several of the houses in the neighborhood are already decked out in Christmas lights.
Dylan is in awe looking at all the colorful lights.
My mom’s vehicle is already parked in the driveway and I pull in right next to her.
The sky is now dark, and I grab my cell phone quickly sending a text to Jameson to let him know we made it.
ME: Here! Dylan slept the majority of the way.
KANE: Did you get karaoke time in then?
ME: You know it ;)
KANE: Give my little Pretty Girl a hug and kiss goodnight. Talk tomorrow?
ME: Absolutely! Night Kane.
Smiling at his request, I get out of my Jeep and grab our bags before helping Dylan out of her seat. With her little hand in mine, we walk up to my aunt’s front door. I knock and a few seconds later it swings wide open.
“Sammy?” She blinks, like she’s surprised to see me. “You’re here?”
I laugh and shuffle Dylan in the door. “Yup! Couldn’t miss my favorite family holiday.”
Aunt Paisley looks from me to Dylan then to Allie who has walked over to hug her niece.
“Where else would she be, Paisley?" my mom says, walking over and taking Dylan’s bag before surprising me with a hug. Her words hit different than she intended because the second I hear them, Jameson’s face flashes in my mind, and I tense in her hold.
Aunt Paisley laughs and shakes her head. “Of course. Okay, well let's get you girls settled.”
She leads us upstairs to the bedroom I used for a year when Dylan was first born.
Instead of a crib in the corner, a little toddler bed now sits.
Dylan throws her blanket on top before turning to charge back down the stairs.
Slowly, I let my bag drop to the bed, my eyes scanning the space.
The usual feeling of home doesn’t follow.
That same loneliness from earlier creeps back in, and I suddenly feel like I made a big mistake.