Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“Daddy, is that the hockey-man?”
“Daddy, is he here?”
“Daddy, can we watch TV?”
“Daddy, we need cookies.”
“Daddy, can we see the man?”
“Daddy.”
“Daddy.”
“Daddy.”
Ian closed his eyes and fought the urge to cry.
Everyone who loved him — from his brother to his best friend to his neighbors — thought he was an idiot for letting JP come home, but…
Well, it was JP’s house.
And no matter what else he or anyone thought of JP, the man had put three quarters of his salary into Ian’s account for the last three years, unasked. He’d just done it.
“Daddy!”
“Guys, I need you to use inside voices. JP’s sick.”
“JP?” Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “The hockey-man?”
“Yes. The hockey-man.” Their father. He didn’t know what else to call him.
He was a little surprised the kids hadn’t woken him already, although the lines of pain and exhaustion on JP’s face had attested to his need for sleep. He guessed once the pain pills had kicked in, JP was down for the count.
“We’re going to have macaroni and cheese for supper tonight. Doesn’t that sound yummy?”
He’d bet JP was surprised by how good the soup had tasted. His best friend, Alison, was a chef, and she’d spent the last few years teaching him to cook.
His babies deserved to eat well.
“Yay! Macamamonies!” They shouted the words together, jumping up and down.
“Shh! Shh! We’re going to be quiet as little mousies, right? We can’t wake him up.”
He just needed them to be good for a few hours.
Tori put her little hands on her hips. “Why?”
“Because he’s hurt. He needs rest. Sleep. He’s…sick.”
He had a career ending lower body injury.
“We should wash hands,” Petey suggested. “So we don’t have germie-germs.”
“You could wash your hands, sure. First, we can go play in the backyard. It’s a pretty afternoon.” And they could be kids out there.
“In the sandbox, Daddy? With the new pails?” They were bouncing again, gearing up to be loud, so he ushered them out the back door, grabbing the plastic tub of sandbox toys on the way.
He grabbed his phone too, sitting in a chair in the shade. He texted his brother.
He made it
You ok
God no.
I guess. It’s weird. I don’t know what to tell the babies
their deadbeat dad is home?
they call him hockeyman. His leg looks AWFUL OMG
He’d had to go into the kitchen and cry.
really that bad, then? was hoping there was exaggeration happening to play on your sympathy
it’s terrifying. I—it’s awful. He can barely walk
damn. don’t make me feel sorry for him, I’m still mad as hell
yeah. I’m going to need a hug soon. This is hard.
He didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know how to make this make sense.
They’d been married for ten years. It felt like it had been…forever. Hell, they were technically still married; neither of them had started divorce proceedings.
I can be there in 15
Do you mind? I’m…I need my people.
omw
love you
He sighed and shook his head. He could have done anything else back when a gorgeous, six-foot-five, two-hundred-and-ten pound hockey player had come up to him, smiled, and asked if he had change for a ten.
Anything but blink up and nod.
Anything but end up in said asshole’s bed.
Anything but move in, say yes, graduate, get married, start their lives, have babies…
“Daddy, why cry?” Peter crawled up into his lap, his sensitive baby frowning deep.
He hugged his son tight, trying to come up with an answer that would let Peter understand and be satisfied and not scare him.
The truth was, he wouldn’t have his babies if he hadn’t said yes to those things and he wouldn’t give up these two for anything, not anything at all.
They were the best pieces of him, of his heart.
The rest of him was…tired and sad.
“I think I’m just tired, sweetie. Uncle Mike-Mike is coming over to see you.”
Petey patted his face with both hands. “Nap time for Daddy.” Then he clambered down and ran to his sister. “Uncle Mike-Mike comes!”
“Mike-Mike!” She cheered, fist pumping the air and jumping hard.
Peter stared for a second, then did the same.
Two little peas in a pod. God, he loved them.
The back door slid open behind him, and he whipped his head around, JP standing there, hair tousled, a little wild-eyed, a little stoned. “Is everything okay? I heard shouting.”
The kids stopped, staring at him. Peter started to cry, and Victoria stepped in front of her brother, fists up in the air. “Stranger! Stranger danger! Daddy!”
“Guys! Guys, it’s the…this is the…he’s the hockey man.” Jesus fucking Christ.
JP looked around wildly. “Stranger? Where?” He looked ready to fight. He’d no doubt collapsed if he threw a single punch, and he was leaning hard against the doorway, but he was ready.
“Easy. Easy, everyone. This is JP. Remember him? The hockeyman? From when Santa was here?” Your father? Remember him? “JP, the kids were just playing. I’ll try to keep them quiet. Let’s get you back to bed.”
“Playing? Oh. Damn. I’m sorry. I thought I heard shouting. I thought something was wrong.” JP was blinking hard and listing slightly. He hadn’t even used his crutches to get out here.
Ian was pretty sure he was not supposed to be walking on that leg, like at all.
“Come on. I’ll help. You two stay right here and do. Not. Move.”
Peter was crying for real now, and Victoria was confused and worried.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Go look after them, I’ll get back on my own – it’s not far.”
“Daddy! Him bleeds!”
Sure enough the dressings were seeping. Lord have mercy. “Okay. Okay, let’s go. Kiddos, Uncle Mike-Mike is coming. We’re okay.” He stared at JP. “You. Bed. Now.”
“Trying,” JP growled, turning and going absolutely white as he took a step back toward the other room. He made a noise and then just went, limping hard, but moving fast.
Ian followed, trying not to panic. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t a nurse.
But he had been a teacher, and that meant “be in control, don’t show panic.”
JP actually made it to the bed, falling onto it with a cry, and a bitten off, “Fuck.”
“Okay. Okay, let’s look. I’ll call the ambulance if I have to. Michael’s on his way.” Michael was a nurse and way better at this than he was. “I’m sorry the kids woke you. They were playing.”
Was he supposed to keep them quiet forever?
Maybe he should just keep them over at Mike’s…
“Sorry, sorry. I thought someone was hurt. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just go look after the kids.”
“No. They’re just loud.” He unwrapped the bandages, and, while it was seeping, it wasn’t too bad. He didn’t barf, after all.
“Did they send you home with supplies, or do I need to call Michael?”
“Supplies? They gave me pills and there’s a paper somewhere with instructions on it.” JP was looking pale and clammy. “Jesus, remind me not to do that again.”
“Will do.” He grabbed his phone, calling Michael.
“Hey.”
“I need supplies. He’s bleeding. I don’t have anything to help or clean or anything. Help?”
“You got it. Don’t touch it. Keep him still.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” He hung up and went to peer out at the kids.
They were sitting in the middle of the sandbox, Victoria holding Peter and patting his back. She looked furious.
“They’re good kids. They just aren’t used to being quiet outside. I’ll find somewhere for us to stay while you’re feeling so bad.”
JP shook his head, and then stopped, looking like he might barf. “No. I’m not chasing you guys out of your home. I’ll know what’s what if it happens again.”
“They’re sweet. Well, Peter’s sweet. Tori is not sweet. She’s fierce. She’s not the good twin.” He was pacing, trying not to panic. “Are you thirsty?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I’m just hurting. The docs said the pain would ease up pretty quick if I followed directions.”
“Then I’ll dig them out and give them to Michael. He knows how to do all that stuff.” So did Ian, honestly.
“‘K, Chou. ‘M sorry being trouble.” The words were mumbled, JP looking like he was going to go back to sleep, or pass out maybe; Ian couldn’t be sure.
“You’ve always been trouble, love.” From the second they met. “Always.”
“You’ve got that right,” Mike told him. “Hey, bro.”
“Hey. Help? I’ve got to get the kids in and cleaned up.” He hugged his brother. “Thank you. You rock.”
Mike hugged him back hard. Then looked over his shoulder. “He looks like shit. I may have to wait until he’s feeling better to beat him to death.”
“Whatever you think is best, Uncle Mike-Mike. I trust you.”
And that was the truth. His brother had his back.
Now he needed to get his babies in the house.