Sure, I’d have loved some pain relief, but when exactly would those doctor visits happen? I was on a months-long waitlist for a rheumatologist who specialized in my disease.
I changed the subject to avoid the overwhelm taking me under. “I ran into the dad again.”
“I have a classroom of twenty-seven students and their twenty-sevenish dads. Please be more specific.”
Hazel popped off my left breast, ready for the right. “Jack Leroy.”
“Who?” Gabi asked, then recognition crossed her face. “Ohhhh. Tattooed hockey daddy.”
“Yes, that one.”
She screwed her mouth up and deepened her voice, rounding and flexing her arms. “Big grumpy hockey daddy with a big chip on his shoulder. Ready to drop the gloves and throw a punch at the drop of a hat.”
I massaged my temple with the hand that wasn’t holding Hazel. “Is that how he is?”
Gabi quirked a brow. “You’ve dealt with him more than I have. That’s how it looks from the outside.”
I shrugged. “He’s gruff, but I think he means well. He sent me a smile emoji last week. And hearted my pictures.”
“Oooh, a steamy text exchange! Hockey Daddy’s got a crush!”
I tossed my phone her way. “Hardly steamy. Read them for yourself. Though he did invite us to his daughter’s birthday on Sunday.”
Gabi’s mouth hung open as she read the texts. “What do you mean, hardly steamy? He wouldn’t send pictures if he didn’t have at least a little crush. Ring the wedding bells! Draw up those papers!”
“Ha. Don’t think I’m going that route again anytime soon. I only just got my letter confirming the divorce last week.”
“No better time than the present. Date Hockey Daddy or I’m making you a profile on the apps.”
I blew a raspberry. “One, no you won’t, and two, I can’t even afford your free babysitting services or have time for anything but this. Where the hell would I get the energy to,” I shuddered, “meet new people.”
“You met Hockey Daddy. End of story.”
“Ha! I walked up on him saying he’s not into me to his friends. Specifically,” I imitated his growly voice, “I’m not into hockey moms and I’m not into her.”
Gabi looked pensive. “Hmm. What are the stages of seduction? Denial? Anger? Sadness?”
“Ma’am, I think those are the stages of grief.”
ELEVEN
JACK
OCTOBER
The air was filledwith the whine of a motor and kids’ laughter. A new kid ran up, headed straight for the bounce house I’d rented for Harper’s birthday bash. Rather than something extravagant like her mom had thrown, I was just keeping it casual: playtime, pizza, and cupcakes with her closest friends.
“Shoes off, Aspen!” came a call from beside me, along with the hollow metal clank of a cane.
Suddenly, my chest felt lighter, my stomach tighter, and something weird was happening with my face. “Hey, you made it,” I said, bending to give Mara a side hug then crouching to say hi to Hazel, who toddled along next to her mom. Mara wore this mid blue wide-necked shirt that showed off her shoulders, jeans with sneakers, and her hair in a ponytail with her bangs out, just like in the picture I had saved. It seemed like that was her go-to mom look. “You want to sit?”
She waved me off. “Eh, not yet.” She flicked her head toward the bounce house. “They kind of remind you of little pieces of popcorn, don’t they?”
“They really do,” Jeanine Sorrento chimed in on my other side. “Especially when their hair flies up from all the static. Hey, I’m Jeanine. Dylan’s wife. Alice’s mom. And Greyson and Bella. They’re all part of the popcorn. Well, except Dylan. He’s over there with the guys.” She leaned to shake Mara’s hand with a broad smile.
“Jeanine, this is Mara, my, uh?—”
My what? What the hell was I thinking? Mara was absolutely nothing to me. She was just a mom from Harper’s class. And the hockey team.
