“You don't know that, and you don't have to live your life like this.”
“I don'thaveto do anything; it's a choice.” I smile, remembering what it was that made me chuckle earlier, “And when our kids, Savannah and any others we bring into this world, ask how we fell in love, we have the most wholesome meet-cute to share with them. We fell in love over a cup of milk.” I wink at her, and she blushes spectacularly. “I'll see you back at our place, I promised Marshall to meet him on the ice so we could go through a few drills.”
THIRTY-ONE
Claudia
This morning,when Lydia texted to tell me she and Maya would be coming in for a short Thanksgiving visit and for a week for Christmas, I was so happy. Their visit would allow me to step away from what in the actual hell my life had become, until I realized what that meant. How will I explain to two women who have always seen me in a very focused and grounded state? They’ve watched me tick off boxes as I made and met deadlines, pushed through obstacles, and met every goal I had set for myself. They've seen my strength, my determination, and above all, my independence. It all feels like a lifetime ago.
There are moments where I feel like I'm giving up part of who I have worked so hard to become, but what I have gained is immeasurable. I ended the call with a promise to call them back at lunch and went to work.
I had morning sessions with Callahan and Foster. Both were happy that the team was back on track, with Johnson gone, followed by Moretti’s return and the win in Philly. Neither have contractual issues or concerns, nor do they have any significantinjuries affecting their game or careers. But still, they expressed concerns about the upcoming holidays.
Foster lives in Calgary, Canada, and there is no time to travel home and spend quality time with his family. Callahan also lives in Canada, but in Toronto, which is much closer. He is going home, but he’s deeply concerned that it'll throw him off his game.
I talked Foster through what he could do to celebrate with teammates in similar situations. To make the best of it because that's all that we can really do sometimes. I reminded Callahan that his family knows how hard he trained to reach this level of athleticism and suggested he try to turn off his worries and simply spend time with his family.
By lunch, I had reminded myself to do the same, period, to be honest with Lydia and Mara about the situation they would be coming into. So that’s what I did. I told them about the house, about the suite that had a room for them with an amazing view, and I also told them about all the things Kyle and his now fiancée and her father were threatening, and even about the meeting today with the team’s goalie, Deacon Moretti, and the owner, Dean Costello. They told me they knew Savannah and I would be okay, and reminded me of what I had told them Hugo Vale had said about visitation, especially given that Savannah was so young. “Do not let this ruin the joy that this season brings, or that you have incredible people surrounding you both.”
I did not tell them about Deacon.
Drew Daniels sent me a text, well, a meme of Elf, and highly suggested I watch that movie on repeat for the next few days, and asked that I please start calling Dean, Buddy, whenever he called me Doc.
It made me laugh.
When I left, Deacon and Hank were still on the ice. Not in gear, just warm-up gear and skates, not practicing, but clearly,they were working on something, and they were the only two out there.
Did I feel overwhelmed at the sight of him? Not at all.
He’s asked me to trust him so many times, and today in the conference room, I saw something that finally made me realize I can. But what I am still freaked the hell out about is him mentioning getting engaged… freaking married, with more kids. I can’t stop myself from smiling, though,over milk.
I heara tap on the door that connects Deacon and my suite, throw the blanket over me by instinct, to cover Savannah as she nurses, even though I’m sure it’s Deacon. “Come in.”
He walks in with a bag of takeout, “Hungry?”
“Always,” I say as I set the pen down and push aside the pad of paper I’m making a list on. The list that has been revised, rewritten, scratched out, categorized, and reorganized into a rainbow of highlighter marks because apparently, I cope through school supplies.
“I got capellini with lemon kale pesto from a little Italian place around the corner,” he says, setting the bag on the table. “And three of their tiramisus because one is never enough.”
Savannah unlatches with a soft sigh, drifting into that milk -blissed half-sleep. I adjust her, carefully, and pull the blanket tighter while I try to sit up straighter. “She’s going to be out any minute.”
“She gets that from you,” he says, handing me a fork as he pulls a chair closer.
“I do not fall asleep immediately after eating.”
“Right, we ate, and then you fell asleep during a movie a few nights ago.”
I glare at him. He accepts the glare as if it were affection. Maybe it is.
He sits beside me, elbows propped on his knees, watching me in that steady way that makes me feel calm even after a day like today.
“Claudia.”
“No,” I cut in immediately.
“You do not even know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do. I am psychic now.”
