Chapter 10 #2
“I didn’t want her to be part of the news cycle,” he says. “I didn’t want her face splashed all over like some of the players’ kids.”
“Okay,” I say, thinking that over.
“Yes,” he says. “Because she has Down syndrome, but not for the reason you’re thinking. I’m not ashamed of her.”
“I would never think that,” I tell him honestly.
“My daughter didn’t sign up to be a public figure,” he says. “And I didn’t want people turning us into a whole thing. Like that I’m some kind of hero single dad, or she’s some brave little angel. She’s a child, like all the other kids out there. And I’m just… whatever I am.”
There’s plenty to unpack there, but I’ll think about it later. For now, this guy has to pull himself together before he sees his daughter.
“Speaking of brave,” I say. “You got back out there today, even with that crowd. That took guts.”
“I didn’t score,” he says flatly. “It was a bloodbath.”
“You missed a couple,” I allow. “And of course there was the one they got right away, while you were in the penalty box. That really set the tone.”
He looks over at me, seeming surprised.
“What?” I ask.
“I figured you’d say I did just fine,” he says, smiling in disbelief.
“You didn’t,” I tell him honestly. “Can you really not control yourself at all?”
“It’s hard when they’re in your face,” he says, shrugging.
Oh boy, do I ever remember people being in my face. And I never tried to knock anyone’s head off.
“You need to stop listening to them, and start listening to your future self,” I tell him, handing him the homemade technique that kept me sane throughout high school.
“My future self?” he asks.
“What would that version of you say?” I explain. “Is what you’re about to do getting you closer to or farther away from who you want him to be?”
“That’s deep,” he says. “But I have no idea what the future holds.”
And even though he’s not saying it, I know to my bones he’s thinking about Daisy again.
Will she go to school and be with all the other kids in a regular classroom?
Will she learn to read and take care of herself?
Will she have a job and friends one day, and a life that’s independent enough to be satisfying to her?
I got out a book at the library the other day, written by a man whose son has Down syndrome. I’m guessing the questions he talks about in the book are probably universal for the families of kids with developmental delays. Like all other parents, they want to know their kids can have a happy life.
“Maybe you’re thinking too far in the future,” I tell him gently. “Maybe just think a little bit in the future. Like you could tell yourself, If I can stay out of the penalty box, Liv will bake me a special cupcake.”
That earns me a funny smile.
“Is that hypothetical?” he asks. “Or do I actually get a cupcake?”
“Do you want a cupcake?” I ask him teasingly.
“One of yours?” he says. “Yes, definitely.”
“Then stay out of the penalty box,” I tell him. “And I’ll bake you a special one.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he says, chuckling.
We’re around the corner from the arena now, and I don’t see anyone else coming.
“Where did you park?” I ask him. “Can I get you to your car without you bumping into any more of those idiots?”
“Yeah,” he says. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” I tell him.
He directs me back to a parking area on the side of the arena and points to a silver SUV that was surely expensive, but isn’t a bit showy.
“Hey,” he says as I pull up. “Thank you.”
His voice is deep and rusty, like the other night, when we were talking in his apartment.
“Sure,” I say, nodding and looking anywhere but his eyes.
But he doesn’t get out right away, and when I turn to look at him, his dark gaze is fixed on me and the air seems to shiver around us as his eyes slowly drift to my lips.
I feel a pull, like he’s tied a rope around my chest and attached it to his.
“I need to go,” I say quickly, turning back to the view of the empty parking lot. “I have a shift tonight.”
I’m not sure if I really expected him to argue with me. But I’m still surprised to hear the door open.
“Good night, Liv,” he says softly. “I’m so glad you’re in my life.”
Then he’s disappearing into the night and I’m sitting in my car, feeling like the biggest fool.
Sure, I had an inconvenient crush on Caleb Stone back in the day, along with every other girl in our school, and probably every woman with a pulse these days.
But the feeling can’t be mutual. Can it?
I picture the way his heated gaze dropped to my mouth and shake my head, trying to clear it of that memory.
He’s at his SUV now and he stops to wave to me before getting in, giving me that cool-boy chin jut and then a lopsided grin.
And I feel that tug again in my chest, like he’s trying to pull me in.
I head home, clean up quickly, and run to the diner, where Leah is tapping her foot.
“Sorry,” I tell her, though I’m right on time. “How’s it going?”
“Slower now,” she says. “The hockey crowd is thinning out.”
I think about how much more fun it would have been to come here for coffee with Hailey and Tessa than rushing home to shower and get ready for a shift. But I like my job, I really do.
“Well, you’re all set then,” I tell her.
She wanted me to take her whole shift, but for once I put my foot down. After all, I had hockey tickets.
“I’ll stay until a couple more tables pay,” she says, sitting at the counter and pulling out her phone.
She wants the tips. That’s valid. Except that she’s clearly expecting me to do the drink refills and cleanup while she plays on her phone.
Whatever, it’s nothing new.
I head behind the counter and slip a KitKat to Dante through the window.
“No way,” Dante says. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“How come I don’t get one?” one of the dishwashers shouts, winking at me.
“Because Liv and I are family,” Dante says firmly.
That’s a high compliment, and I smile so he knows I understand it. Dante is an older guy, but he cooks with the energy of ten men and never complains. He seems to get a kick out of my love of making the occasional pancake.
The shift goes pretty quickly, but I’m really tired by the time it’s done. It was a long day.
I hurry home, shower, and crawl into bed before the sun starts to rise.
Sleep should take me instantly. But I find myself thinking about Caleb and Daisy Stone until sunlight begins to peek in under the shades.
It feels like I’ve just nodded off when I awake with a start.
There is a noise, but for a second, I’m too out of it to figure out what’s going on. Then my head clears a little and I realize that someone is pounding on my bedroom door.
“Liv, Liv,” Hailey yells.
I sit up, and open my mouth to tell her to come in. But the door is already flying open and Hailey is tugging at the shades by my bed.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her, my heart pounding as I blink in the bright and sudden sunlight. “Is Van okay?”
“Everyone’s fine,” she assures me.
I start to wonder if maybe I made the wrong decision inviting her to move in. I can’t have her pounding on my door when it’s not even a real emergency.
Who does that?
“You need to see this,” she says, handing me her phone.