“Is that so?” I ask, and she answers with another kiss that makes my world tilt on its axis.
Three weeks later,I’m looking at my travel schedule while sitting in Nina’s kitchen—ourkitchen, she insists—as she packs Kai’s lunch for school and marveling at how quickly real life swept us up into a whirlwind.
I’ve continued to receive calls from that same random number from weeks ago, but they’re always when I’m not available. I’ve considered calling back, but hockey playerssometimes get crazy superfans, so I figure since they’re not leaving a message, I’m safer ignoring it.
At this point, the only thing I’ve heard from Desi is that she’s living her best life on an island somewhere in the Pacific. Long ago, I gave up on expecting (or encouraging her) to prioritize what’s important. And right now, it’s that Kai is safe. I’d like to think he’s living his best life with us. If I can figure out this “fatherhood” thing.
We’ve been spending most of our time here on Sweet Corn Court in Cobbiton. It’s more practical and the schools are better than in Omaha, plus it’s closer to the arena, but that’s not really why we’re here. The truth is, and I’m confident Kai agrees, Nina’s house feels like home in a way my boring condo never has. It’s warm and lived-in with what feels like love living between the walls.
The first time Kai saw Nina’s place, she still had it decorated for Christmas. The kid’s eyes lit up like it was, well, Christmas morning.
He was stoked—his words—that the Christmas tree was still up. He casually told us that he’d never had a Christmas tree before. Said Desiree claimed they were too expensive and too much work.
I have more than one bone to pick with my sister because every year, I send her some money to ensure they have a nice holiday—tree, lights, a good meal, and gifts.
Can’t help but wonder where that cash went.
Nina had looked at me over his head, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and we silently made each other a promise that this kid was going to have the best Christmas next December.
As for me, anyone who could look at a ten-year-old’s excitement over a Christmas tree and immediately want to give him the world is someone worth keeping.
Eventually, Nina and Kai took down the general Christmasdecorations, but they kept the tree and redecorated it with hockey stuff in the Knights’ colors—silver, black, and red. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen his Utah Mustangs jersey since we moved in. The kid switched loyalties completely.
Score!
Nina suggests we go to the home goods store to pick up some items Kai would like for his room next weekend. He’s taken over what used to be Nina’s grandmother’s sewing room, and funny thing—every night before bed, I find him curled up with her old quilt. It’s the coziest thing to see, a tough little prankster wrapped up in soft yellow cotton.
The kid has settled in and is already campaigning for a puppy, which could be taken into consideration. I’m a fan of all things furry and playful. However, after ten years of fighting for his mother’s attention, old habits die hard. Last week, he hid fake plastic spiders everywhere—not sure where he got them. They gave Nina a scare. The week before that, he replaced her sugar with salt and then acted innocent when her coffee tasted like seawater. Classic move.
She thinks thenisser, gnomes, the legendary mischief makers from Denmark, are up to no good, but I’ve got my eyes on the culprit.
Yesterday’s prank was more elaborate. He made paste out of Nina’s fancy cake flour and water, then used it to “wallpaper” the bathroom mirror with pictures he’d printed of various Knights players making ridiculous faces. Under other circumstances, it would have been hilarious. But he went a step too far. Last night, we had a serious conversation with Kai about appropriate ways to get attention, and I think it helped. But I also think the kid needs an outlet for all that creative mischief.
He came with the phone Desi got him—too young, if you ask me—and although I monitor his apps, he’s been sneaking off with it lately. I imagine he’s chatting with his friends fromhome or even trying to reach her, but he gets awkward and cagey when I inquire.
This is unknown territory of being both a father figure and someone who’s sensitive to what he’s been through.
I stop into the Busy Bee after dropping Kai off at school. Nina is somehow always bright-eyed, even though she wakes up painfully early. Her hair is shiny and I relish the smile I receive—it’s different from the one she gives her customers. I love it.
I get a peck on the lips as she passes me my usual coffee order. Tipping her head to the side, she motions to meet her in the narrow hallway that leads to the restroom, storage, and her office.
I brace myself for the report of another prank. “Was it the sugar and salt trick this time?”
She groans. “I thought we were done with the plastic spiders, but I found them frozen in the ice cubes in the freezer.” She shivers.
“Kai is a good kid, but needs direction.”
“And I caught him blowing up balloons. He claimed it was for your birthday. When I suggested they’d be deflated well before May, he confessed to wanting to fill the shower with them and they’d cause an avalanche next time one of us went in. It’s harmless, but?—”
I exhale a heavy sigh, finishing Nina’s thought. “But we need to find a way to channel his energy.”
Lips pressed together, she nods in agreement. “I’ve been brainstorming.”
“Ice time?”
“Nothing like a frozen sheet and a pair of blades to sharpen the senses.”
She bounces on her toes and taps the air. “Exactly.”
