Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Bobby
Good times don ’ t last, boy. You gotta work hard for what you want, then work even harder to keep it.
Those are the wise and depressing words of my father. The glass is neither half full nor half empty in Dale Rhodes’s world, it needs constant refilling. But I’ve never believed in the shit that man would spew, which is probably why I got my ass handed to me over and over again while growing up.
To be fair, I got an incredible work ethic from him that sealed the deal on my hockey career, but it also left some wounds even Mom hadn’t been able to heal. Right now, there’s a voice in my head, sounding suspiciously like my father, telling me that things are too good with me and Molly. That the other shoe is about to drop.
As for me, I refuse to believe that. Life is good. Molly, Matthew, and I have started a rhythm of sorts that suits us all. My career is on an upswing. Coach is off my ass, for the most part. My first house is going to close in just under two weeks. The Christmas countdown has begun, and I’ve never looked forward to the holiday like this. Matthew’s first few hockey games have gone well, and with the exception of a few battles of will with Molly and Blake, he hasn’t gotten into any other fights at school.
And Molly. Damn, things are good with Molly. Once she said she loved me, she slid right into being the world’s best girlfriend. She doesn’t even try to cover herself when I strip her naked these days. Plus, she’s been going to all my home games, sitting in the WAG section and sending me flirty waves that I swear make me skate faster.
“Molly!” I holler, letting myself into her house with the key she gave me. Matthew’s going home with his dad after school today to start his week with him. That means I have plans to get Molly naked and keep her that way until I have to leave for practice.
“Back here!” she calls back.
I follow the direction of her voice, gripping the doorway of her bedroom when I see her in a short, silky emerald green nightie with lace cutouts that give enticing glimpses of her milky smooth skin. She’s laid out on the bed, her knee cocked up and one hand behind her head. Her auburn hair is spread out on the pillow. But it’s her confident smile that takes my breath away.
“Have I been a good boy?” I can barely breathe.
Molly lets out a hearty laugh, then controls herself, giving me a throaty answer in the mom voice I love so much. “Such a good boy. Why don’t you come over here and let me show you how good?”
My phone rings in my back pocket, but I can’t take my eyes off Molly. I take it out and throw it on the nightstand without looking at it. Molly lifts her arms in the air, and I take a flying leap to land on the bed, careful not to squash her. She squeals as I pounce on her, quick to get my lips on every available inch of skin.
“Mmm, baby. You smell so good,” I murmur, taking my time to kiss every inch of her.
My phone rings again and Molly’s head turns toward it. “Ignore it,” I tell her, then push her knee to the side to see matching panties under this lingerie. “Yes,” I whisper, celebrating with myself. If I didn’t mind taking my hands off Molly, I’d high five myself for what I’m about to enjoy.
The phone rings a third time and with an irritated moan, I lean over her to snatch it up and silence it. Except I see that it’s my dad calling me. I must pause or grimace or something because Molly pushes up on her elbows.
“You need to take that?”
Dad never calls me. Except when we lose a game. Then he calls and tells me all the ways in which we fucked up and deserved the loss. “Um, maybe. It’s my dad.”
Molly pushes the phone toward me. “Take it!”
Fuck. I grab her hands and bring them to my lips, kissing her fingers before hitting accept and putting the phone to my ear. “Dad?”
“Bobby! ‘Bout time you answered. Your mom’s in the hospital.”
I’m frozen, absorbing his words as if through a tunnel stuffed with cotton balls. I feel Molly shift, pressing her ear to mine to hear what he’s saying. He keeps talking, but I can’t make out the words. Fear, the kind that grabs your gut in a vice and won’t let you take a full breath, is running the show. I’ve felt this way a time or two out on the ice, but I was always able to breathe my way through it. Not this time. Not with Mom.
Molly nudges me. She mouths the word “okay” and I say it back.
Dad finally penetrates the fog, probably because his voice breaks in the middle of his sentence. “Just get here quick, okay, son?”
I say okay again and hang up, still holding the phone in the air. Molly is up on her knees, her hands cupping my face.
“Bobby? Honey, can you hear me?”
“Wha . . .?”
Molly slams her lips to mine, her tongue delving into mouth and stealing what breath I have left. She leans her warm sweet body into mine. My hands find her hips and suddenly the heat of her seeps into me. My shoulders drop and my hands slide around to her ass, cupping her.
She pulls away just enough to stare into my eyes. “You with me?”
“I’m with you, baby.”
“Okay.” Her thumbs stroke my cheeks, so sweet and comforting I want to curl up into her. “We need to get you to Georgia, honey.”
She tries to pull her hands away from my face, but I hold them there. “Come with me.” It’s not a question. I need her there with me. I need her by my side in my hometown more than ever. I’ll beg if I have to.
Molly’s eyes go wide and then she nods. “Okay. I just need to call Coco and pack a bag.”
“You’ll come?” When she nods again, I kiss her, hard. “Thank you.”
I travel a lot for my job, but I’ve never taken a better plane ride than this one. We were able to snag last minute seats in the very back row of the airplane by the bathrooms. The baby in front of me must be related to Mei because she’s been screaming almost the whole flight. Molly’s held my hand the whole time, her thumb stroking back and forth like a metronome of comfort.
Molly remembered to call Richie, who said he was working a shift and couldn’t leave until tomorrow. I didn’t want to wait that long, so we took off for the airport immediately. Molly informed me that Dad said something about a heart attack on the phone. That must have been the part I didn’t hear. When I went to Google heart attack survival rates in women, Molly confiscated my phone. Instead, she’s been coaxing out every single memory I have of my mom.
I’m mid-story about that time Artie punched George, who fell into Richie, who backhanded me accidentally. Being the littlest, I went flying and broke Mom’s vase. The one her mother had given to her years ago. It was a family heirloom and I’d broken it. Will, the oldest, came out of the bathroom and looked at the mess, shaking his head, saying we were going to be in so much trouble. Never mind the fact that he was supposed to have been watching us. Mom came home, took one look at our tear-stained cheeks and bowed heads while we stood over the shards of glass, and made us all go outside. She cleaned up the mess then came outside in her swimsuit. The sprinklers flipped on, and she laughed like a crazy woman as she ran through. Then we all started running through them and we had what became one of my favorite days of summer ever.
“She sounds like a strong woman and a beautiful soul. I can’t wait to meet her,” Molly says, still holding my hand as we file out of the airplane.
I get our bags and a rental car before making the drive out to my little hometown on the northern outskirts of Atlanta. I don’t bother going to the house. I go straight to the hospital, pull into the valet spot, toss the keys over, and hustle us both inside the bright hospital. It smells like antiseptic and sadness, even in the lobby.
“Sue Rhodes please?” I ask the lady at the information desk. She looks up her name on the computer and directs us to the second floor, room two-twenty-four.
The elevator ride is slow and tortuous. The doors finally slide open, and I race forward. Molly pulls me back, a worried expression on her pretty face.
“Hey. I’m just going to wait outside while you find out what’s going on. When you’re ready, just stick your head out and I’ll come in. Or I can just wait to meet everyone later.”
I’m already shaking my head. “No. You should come in.”
“Your mom’s been through a medical event. Let her see her sons before you go and introduce a stranger. Please, Bobby.”
I don’t like it, but she has a point. “Okay. It’ll just take me a second.” I kiss her quickly and we walk toward the right room. She takes a position in the hall against the wall and shoots me an encouraging wink.
When I step inside the room, the lights are low and machines are beeping. There’s a curtain around the bed, but I see shoes underneath. Shoes that probably belong to my older brothers. I push the curtain aside and see Mom for the first time. She looks pale and sickly, smaller than I remember her from the last time I visited. There’s oxygen going to her nose and she’s hooked up to an IV and has those electrode things on her chest. Her eyes are closed. My heart squeezes so hard seeing her like that I think I might be having a sympathy heart attack.
“You came.” Dad steps next to me and claps me on the shoulder.
“Of course I came,” I mumble back. I only have eyes for Mom. It hits me with startling clarity that she was the only truly good thing about my childhood. Through my sessions with Ashley and time spent with Molly as she parents Matthew, I’ve come to realize that my childhood wasn’t normal. “How’s she doing?”
“She had a heart attack, dumbass. How do you think she’s doing?” Will answers, stepping closer with that stupid smirk on his face that used to make me daydream about punching him in the nose.
I hold up my hand, shaking my head. “Just tell me how she is. We can do the name calling later.”
“Ohh,” Artie hoots. “You’ve gone soft now that you’re a famous hockey guy? No name calling allowed in the league?” He and George snicker like school children.
I ignore them all and head over to the bed, kneeling down to put a hand to Mom’s cheek. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused for a moment. Then she sees me and she breaks out into that familiar lopsided smile.
“Hey, my sweet boy. You’re here.”
“Hi, Mom. I heard you needed some attention so you faked a heart attack.”
She grins more, a look of pure affection in her eyes. “Heard it was the best way to get my Bobby fix. You know I can’t go too long without seeing you.”
“Don’t wear yourself out,” Dad grouses, stepping over to the other side of the bed. He gives me a hard look I try to ignore.
“I brought someone with me to meet you,” I say to Mom.
“Oh? Is it a woman?” She seems to perk up. Mom’s been giving me grief about settling down since I turned sixteen. Said I was her only hope for grandbabies.
“It is. Her name’s Molly and she’s a mom too.” I lean in closer so only she can hear. “She’s the one, Mom.”
Tears fill her eyes.
“Dad!” Artie hisses. “Bobby’s making Mom cry!”
Will immediately bats me away from the bedside with a hard shove. “You brought a woman to the hospital? What’s wrong with you? Can’t you just be there for Mom without a parade of puck bunnies?”
“Boys!” Mom wheezes. Dad bends over her, trying to comfort her when what she really needs is for him to keep these jackasses in line.
“Don’t touch me.” I bump Will’s chest with mine, both of us puffed up and ready to fight. He used to be bigger than me, but I outwork all my brothers combined in the gym these days.
“Or what? You’ll call your baby mama in here and she’ll give me a spanking?” His smirk is out in full force. “I might like it and have to steal your girl.”
I don’t notice any of the warning signs. I just pull back my fist and let it fly.