Soon, our bakery is full of the chosen family we’ve built. The WAGs arrive with an assortment of savory and sweet treats. The kids immediately disperse with Mya and Kai. My teammates show up with stories from the game earlier and arms full of yet more food.
Even Coach Badaszek is here, looking relaxed as he holds his grandson in his arms. “Fantastic assist, Sheridan,” he says.
My brow furrows because, although I played a heck of a game, I don’t recall any assists that warrant that comment. “Sir?”
He winks and then looks around the bakery fondly. “Christmas wouldn’t have been the same without one of Nina’s Kringles. Well, they were Elizabeth’s recipe. Little-known fact, Kathleen was her first official customer.” I belatedly realize he’s referring to his wife and Nina’s grandmother—Bibi.
“Is that so?”
“Indeed. This went even better than I expected.”
“Were you expecting something, sir?”
The man has a twinkle in his eye and the amusement in his smile is almost mischievous. “I didn’t choose you for the family by accident.”
“You mean for the team?”
He looks down at his grandson, gurgling in his arms. “Same thing, right?”
Did Badaszek have something to do with everything that’s happened since last New Year’s Eve? It seems unlikely, but then again, here we are. “I suppose so.”
“It’s a good life, son.”
I love my father, Lane Sheridan Senior, but right now I feel more seen and understood by my coach than I ever have by Dad because at the center of it all, there has to be heart … home … family. Badaszek has that figured out. My father, not so much. At least, not yet. But I have hope for him.
“A great life.” Then I add, “Thank you, sir.”
Although I may never know Tom Badaszek’s role in any of this, I can’t help but feel grateful. That feeling trails me for the rest of the evening as I count my blessings.
The Busy Bee is thriving—Nina hired a part-time assistant, counter help, and officially expanded to include catering, rather than doing things piecemeal whenever people asked her for favors. She’s skating again regularly, no longer afraid of the ice or the painful memories it carries.
Mya has settled into school, made friends, and only occasionally gets into trouble for shouting at her brother in Thai when he plays pranks on her—we’re working on getting her nanny settled into Cobbiton to help with school drop off when I’m at away games and Nina has to be up early to open the bakery. And even though it shouldn’t be a surprise, Kai has become the star of his youth hockey team and discovered he loves helping Nina keep the storeroom and containers in the bakery organized. The kid is a whiz at folding pastry boxes, too.
And me? I’ve found my purpose in ways I never expected. A second chance in hockey with a team that feels like family, yes, but also being the husband who makes perfect hot chocolate on stressful days, the dad who shows up to school events, and the man who gets to wake up next to Nina Sheridan every morning.
“Attention, everyone!” Bree calls out, raising her glass as midnight approaches. “Time for New Year’s resolutions!”
“Or words of the year,” Nina adds, catching my eye across the room. “Those work too.”
Jess hollers, “My word is ‘vegetables!’ As in Liam and KJ have to eat their vegetables.”
He nuzzles his wife. “It’s not my fault you bake incredible Bundt cakes.”
Pierre follows immediately with, “Mine is to eat more pizza!”
Cara cuts him a look and I know that Nat, the team nutritionist, will sneak him cauliflower pizza crusts if that’s the case.
Grady chimes in, “I’m going with ‘naps.’” Understandable, given his and Heidi’s growing family.
Mikey mutters, “At least it’s more realistic than ‘I’m going to organize my garage.’”
“I’ll do mine if you do yours,” Hudson says, likely because it’s become the Happy Hockey Days storage facility.
“Do you have a resolution or a word this year?” Nina asks me during a private moment while everyone else is debating between resolutions and predictions.
Considering how I’ve been feeling tonight, without hesitation, I say, “gratitude.”
“That’s fitting.”
