Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I wanted to be the girl who returned to her hometown with visions of opening a cupcake shop.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a pillowy chocolate sponge and rich buttercream confection. But that’s not me.
As a puck bunny, I was thriving in the spotlight. Now, the only spotlight in my life is on my daughter and Grady.
I lived for the likes, follows, and applause. Now, I’m in it for the baby giggles and Grady’s belly laughs.
Which he does now when I appear in a plush Easter bunny costume with one of those giant heads.
“Shh, don’t wake up Bunny. This is a surprise,” I say, my voice muffled.
He removes the head, giving me a much-needed gust of fresh air, combined with Grady’s clean, soapy, masculine scent.
“I think this would be better suited for Nolan.” He’s the Knight’s Zamboni driver and often dresses up in a knight costume under a hockey jersey when he’s resurfacing the ice at games.
“Do you think it would fit him?” I ask .
Grady sizes me up. “Considering you’re swimming in it, I think it’ll be fine.”
“The head is a one-size-fits-all.”
Grady cups my cheeks, looks around to make sure we’re alone, and plants a kiss on my lips.
Living with him and my parents has been fun. They’ve been in our house on Silver Queen for thirty years and considering the pipe problem, it shows, so it’s nice to see their delight at being surrounded by new appliances that work without having to bang on the side, toggle the switches, or operate some temporary DIY contraption that Dad set up. At least once a day, he comments on the fridge’s ice maker and how cold the water is. Mom loves the waterfall showerhead in one of the four guest bathrooms.
It’s pretty luxurious at the McMansion.
But it was sparse with next to no furniture, tall bare windows, and a fireplace with an empty mantle. Grady thought it would be fun for Mom and I to decorate while he and Dad fix up the Dodge. Bunny was a big help and thanks to her, we got lots of houseplants.
She and I have our own rooms, but she still ends up in bed with me every night. Can’t say I mind because in about a decade, she’ll want her space and after that, she’ll move out. I want to see her successfully launch . . . someday. But that doesn’t need to come too soon. For now, I’m keeping her close in the nest.
Every night, even though a wall separates us, Grady and I still message each other until we fall asleep.
It was unexpected, but we have a really good thing going.
He says, “I think you should do the intermission performance on Easter weekend.”
That snaps me from my thoughts.
“Me? Alone? ”
“Or a group of skaters, hype girls, cheerleaders, hockey enthusiasts. I bet you anything Badaszek would go for it.”
“Like the Ice Kitties?”
“But make it family-friendly. The Ice Maidens.”
I burst with a laugh.
He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It works with the Knights theme.”
I tap my chin. “Hmm. That’s an interesting idea.”
“Interesting like no way or interesting like you’re going to think about it?” he asks.
I was going to say the first one, but I now work for the team as the social media manager and have been creating great content, proven by our numbers, growth, and engagement.
“Just think, you’d be inspiring young girls to get on the ice.”
“And be a puck bunny?” I ask, aghast that he’d suggest such a thing.
“No, an Ice Maiden. An Ice Mom?”
I groan. “I’ll think about it. But it’s short notice. Where would I find other skaters?”
“You still teach privates, right? Plus, some of the guys’ wives skate. Let’s see, Meg, Whit, and Cara. Oh, and Harlow. It could be a surprise before Ted’s retirement,” he says referring to the other defenseman and his wife.
I’ve been to several games now and the WAGs—wives and girlfriends of the players—are not at all catty like the women back in Los Angeles.
I was afraid I wouldn’t fit in, that they’d come at me with claws, and I’d have to prove myself all over again like in LA—while also watching my back because they were vicious and had a good laugh when Trey broke up with me.
Regretfully, in high school, I was a mean girl. But it’s all water under the bridge and everyone is so nice and supportive of the videos I make. We’ve even started a corn hole club .
I say, “We’re having a cookout with the Lemons this Thursday. Maybe I’ll propose it.”
Grady adjusts his glasses and says, “Great idea.”
The butterflies let out a swoony sigh. I lace my arms around his shoulders and lean in for a kiss. “You in glasses will never get old.”
Our lips meet. His are cold like he just drank a glass of water but soon warm up as his mouth presses to mine. I heat through.
I was the flyer in my cheerleading days. Spending all that time up in the clouds, and later in the spotlight, caused me to lose touch with what’s real and true.
Bunny humbled me. Grady grounded me.
Kissing him shatters any illusions I have about what it is to be loved. It’s simple, really, once I allowed it. It’s not a popularity contest, a rivalry, or an attention grab.
It’s seeing Grady for who he is and not someone I want him to be . . . and the harder part for me, allowing him to see me, flaws, shortcomings, and all.
Truth is, we’re human, and wonky teeth sometimes come with the territory.
His hands skim my back and drop to my waist as the kiss deepens. I clutch his jaw, keeping him close, breathing him in, letting there be an us rather than a me against the world.
My heart thumps a lovey-dovey beat in my chest, finally free and entirely his. I love this man.
When we part, Grady gazes into my eyes. His lips quirk, and he says, “ That will never get old.”
“I hope not.”
“But we will,” he says.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Speak for yourself, buster.”
“What? You don’t plan on aging? ”
“Well, yeah, of course. But I don’t want you to think of me as old .”
“It’s better than the alternative,” he says.
I consider the comment from his point of view. He lost his brother way too soon and his mother.
“What if I said I want to grow old with you, Heidi?” Grady says, expression serious.
“I would say that this is the last thing I’d have expected when you came back to town. I figured I’d be a single mom forever, kind of by choice.”
“Even though it’s hard doesn’t mean it can’t be fun, especially when you spend it with the right person.”
He is the right person, especially in his eyeglasses.
“Look at all the challenges we faced getting those videos made. Though, in my opinion, they were fun challenges.” Grady nudges me with his elbow.
“We make a good team when I thought I’d always be alone,” I say with a pout. “I even recall saying I’d never date a hockey player.”
“Or your brother’s best friend.”
“It’s true. Trey hurt me so badly, I would do anything never to experience that again, including close myself off from love.”
And I know without a doubt, that’s what this is.
I rest my fingers on his jaw. “I was wrong. So wrong. But I am right about one thing. Us.”
“Funny you should say that and good thing you’re here because there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
I lift my eyes to his.
“I love you, Heidi.”
My smile widens. “I love you?—”
Before I can add the word too , his lips are on mine and we melt into another kiss.
It’s the Saturday night before Easter. The girls were game to put together a short program during the intermission of the final match against the Lions. It’s fittingly festive, yet daunting on such short notice. I also rallied a few other volunteers from my pool of figure skating students.
The performance includes plenty of skater bunny hops. We’re even able to pull together white leotards with light pink accents and tightly ruched tutus that remind me of a bunny’s cotton tail.
My parents and Bunny are in the VIP suite with other friends and family members of the team. Meg adjusts Whit’s bunny ears.
“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Whit says.
We knew each other in high school and I was not nice to her, but she assured me we’re grown up now and even brought me a pair of Easter-themed cookies from her food truck for us to share after practice. We talked for a bit about momaging while married to hockey players . . . not that I’m thinking about marriage. Much.
I feel like I owe her and hope to make it up somehow . . . maybe in a way that doesn’t involve making her wear a skintight costume.
“Blue is going to love it,” Harlow says, referring to Whit’s daughter.
Meg strikes a pose, “Look at us moms, showing the kids how it’s done.”
We gather around for a few photos. I film a little behind-the-scenes footage to edit later because we’re all looking glam in stage makeup and adorable with the bunny ears. It’s a different look from the Lions, but I love it—and the Knights.
Dad has been joking that I’ve turned into a superfan which only helps his case because he loves that our whole family can now enjoy his favorite pastime.
Cara leads us in a prayer just like the guys do before they take to the ice.
I let out a breath and we exit the tunnel to a remix of a Carrie Underwood song with a medley of “Peter Cotton Tail” tossed in for fun. Pastel laser lights splash the ice.
The arena goes quiet for half of a second, apparently not expecting this interlude to their rough and tough game.
We shake our pom poms in time with the music. Everyone nails their bunny hops—for a few of us, it’s been a while.
The program is part family-friendly puck bunny spectacular—emphasis on the bunny bit—part hype girl enthusiasm and pure entertainment.
The crowd goes bananas and throws jellybeans after we take our bow with a cute little tail shake at the end.
Nolan, the Zamboni driver, wears the Easter bunny costume while resurfacing the ice.
It’s a lot of fun and I’m exhilarated, back in my element, when I meet my family in the VIP suite and watch the rest of the game. I’d love to see Grady out there, but the coach still has Ted in, which makes sense since this is his last season.
The Knights win, just barely, with a three-two score.
The next day, after church, we all pile into my parents’ minivan on our way to brunch at the Lemons’ house. Dad laments not doing the Easter egg hunt. Mom suspects Karen from the Cobbiton Activities Commission diverted funding elsewhere. Her scowl when the topic comes up suggests she suspects foul play.
My dad reassures her that next year, we’ll host it.
“We don’t even have a kitchen. How do you expect me to dye eggs?”
“Here we go,” I mutter .
They begin the singular disagreement they’ve had in thirty years of marriage. Okay, that’s not true. My mother refuses to give him those spicy peanuts anymore. Says they’re bad for his digestion and she doesn’t want to stink up Grady’s house.
I explain to him that my mother believes hard-boiled and dyed eggs should be hidden, while Dad insists the plastic eggs are more fun because you can hide a treat inside.
Grady peers through his glasses as if carefully considering his stance. “Hmm. I don’t want to step on toes, but I’m going to side with the plastic eggs.”
I harrumph. “Well, it looks like we have our very first divergence.”
“You mean to say you prefer hunting for hardboiled eggs?”
I burst out laughing. “No, definitely the plastic ones.”
“You fooled me there for a moment.”
I wrap my arms around him. “You have me always.”
Grady kisses me on the top of the head just as we pull up to Lemons’ house for brunch and the egg hunt. We follow laughter and chatter to the backyard.
Even my brother and Deborah are there. She’s friends with Meg and looks like she reverse-aged now that she’s almost officially retired from the military.
Bunny is wearing my rabbit ears from yesterday and is beyond thrilled at being “Fan-cee” in a dress with white gloves and shiny shoes, but even more so when she sees the decorations and other kids.
After we eat, Meg gathers them all around and explains that the eggs are hidden in the yard. “No climbing. The bunny hid eggs on the ground for you. Adults, you might find a few too in some high-up places.” She winks and then blows a whistle that’s as shrill as the coach’s.
The kids are off. My parents trail Bunny, as delighted by her discovering eggs as she is. She fills her basket and Grady leads me around the side of the yard. “I think I spotted one over here earlier.”
I follow him to a landscaped area with an unmistakable “Amber waves of grain” view over the cornfield.
I trail Grady and remark, “They must get great sunsets over here.”
“Any thoughts about what we should do in our backyard aside from the pool? It’s a blank template.”
“Our backyard? I like the sound of that. I’ll have to think about it.”
“I bet BB would love a play structure.”
I nod. “One cooler than the Schuster’s.”
We both laugh and then I go quiet. “I think I spotted one.” I hurry over to the trellis and grab a pink plastic egg. Grady is by my side as I pop it open, wondering what Meg and Micah hid for the adults.
Inside, is a silver, sparkly ring that looks very real and not like the plastic kind for playing dress up.
The corner of Grady’s mouth quirks with a smile . . . a very distinct smile. “For you.”
“A diamond ring?” The words trip out of my mouth as I try to make sense of things.
Grady lowers to one knee. At my back, I sense a presence. Glancing over my shoulder, everyone from the party forms a half circle, including my brother, Deborah, my parents, and Bunny.
Grady takes the ring and presents it to me. “Heidi, will you be my forever puck bunny?”
Tears of joy pierce the corners of my eyes and I pull him to his feet. Wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, I say, “Yes, yes I will. ”
Everyone claps and we kiss.
Then a little person wraps around my legs and Grady’s hugging us tight, calling, “Mama! GG!”
We scoop Bunny into our arms for our first family hug.