17. Stalk Me All Night Long #3
“That’s great. Not that your dad left,” she says, her tone caring. “But that Birdie was a big part of the family.”
“Now and then. And she still is. When everyone moved down here from Seattle, she moved too.” I pause, flashing back on the life and times of my grandmother. “I think she misses the rain though.”
“Does it really rain there a lot? In Seattle?”
“All the time. Constantly. It never stops,” I say, then lower my voice, as if sharing a conspiracy. But I keep my gaze locked on her. “It’s our best-kept secret to keep people out.”
She laughs. “Smart. I won’t say a word.”
“Appreciate that,” I say dryly, then add, “what about you? Are your grandparents around?”
She takes another bite before answering.
“Same as you. When my mom left, the grandparents jumped in to help out. They still give Dad a hand with Riley when he’s…
” She stops and winces as a storm cloud seems to pass over her.
“On the road with the team. It really means a lot to us both. They made sure I didn’t have to be the grown-up, you know? ”
My throat tightens. I know what it’s like to carry that kind of weight, whether someone hands it to you or you take it on yourself. “I’m glad,” I say, leaving the dad comment untouched.
“It really is.” She pauses, her brow scrunching like she’s debating something. “Your dad…is he—”
I shake my head, fighting the latent anger, resentment, and, yep, grief that still swims up when I think of him. “He took off with barely a word when I was twelve. Didn’t hear from him at all during high school,” I say, then swallow past the ancient hurt. “He died when I was seventeen.”
“Oh, Miles,” she says, her voice hitching. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, it sucked. And…thanks.” What sucks the most—which I don’t say—is that I never got to ask him why he left, why he told me to be the man of the house, why we weren’t enough for him to stay.
But the world only spins forward, so l keep moving on.
I switch gears. “Your mom’s still around? Do you see her?”
Her smile seems forced as she says, “Usually only if she wants me to take photos of her or whatever her new handbag line is.”
“Ouch.”
“Yup,” she says. “And if I don’t want to take pics, she’s excellent at passive-aggressively pointing out how I’ll make time for other things. Like myself, and my dad, and my sister. Ironic.”
“That sucks,” I say with a sympathetic sigh.
“It does. But I try not to let it bug me,” she says.
“I hear you. I do the same. To try to let go of the things I can’t control.”
“You get it,” she says. Understanding passes between us as we hold each other’s gazes. I can see some of what drives her independence. And I suppose she now knows more about me than she did before.
Leighton points to the half-eaten pastry and the crumbs of our enjoyment scattered all over the plate. “I like not choosing between caramel and toffee.”
“She’s got a lemon raspberry cake too.” I want to ask her to come back and try it with me. As friends. But I’d only be using friendship to cover up the date I wish we were having.
After we leave, I send her my address, as I’d said I would. But deep down, I’m hoping someday she’ll wander past my home.
* * *
The weights clank as I set down my dumbbells during that afternoon’s workout. On the bench, Tyler pushes through another set and then sits up, a resolute grin on his bearded face. The dude loves working out and always has.
“So, how’s the adjustment going?” I ask. He’s only been here a week, and he’s had the kids most of the time, so he’s had a lot to juggle. “Settling in okay?”
Tyler nods, grabbing a towel and wiping the back of his neck.
“For the most part. Agatha just arrived, so that’s good.
” Agatha is the kids’ nanny—an older woman who’s worked for him since his ex went back to college.
“And Elle—she’s doing well in med school.
I think she likes the change—new city, fresh start. ”
I get that. I desperately needed that feeling when I moved here. “Seems like things are coming together.”
He runs a hand through his hair, which is longer than mine now. “Just gotta, you know, play good hockey for a new team. No big deal.”
“Right, no pressure,” I deadpan, grabbing a heavier set of weights. “I mean, you only have to live up to my impressive stats. And that’s not easy.”
Tyler smirks, tossing his towel at me. “You’ll be thanking me when I’m carrying you through the season.”
I snag the towel and fling it back. “Oh, you think you’re carrying the team? I was here first. Makes me the better Falcon.”
Tyler raises an eyebrow. “Better? You mean…older?”
“Oh, please.” I flex in mock confidence before I lift the weights. “I’m in my prime.”
He shakes his head, grinning. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
“I fucking will. Especially tomorrow when we start,” I say, already feeling the thrill of stepping back on the ice.
I’m ready to make this year my best yet. Especially with Leighton there to capture it all.
Maybe, possibly, that’s why I switch to even heavier weights. Well, there’s a good chance she’ll see me shirtless.