“So,” he echoes with his gaze fixed on his laces.
“We might need to exchange a few words.”
Looking up at me, he deadpans before spitting out, “I’d really rather not.”
I grin because I can totally remember being his age and would be completely grossed out if I had to experience something like this with my coach and mom. “Look, I know this is…weird. And I want to be respectful to you, but you should know, I really care for your mom. At this point, I don’t see myself going anywhere.”
“It’s so cringey.” He grimaces, like he’s having a hard time hearing me. “But, whatever. If you refuse to go away, can you please try to be better at keeping that business away from me and the team?”
“I can do that.”
He turns to grab his stick and mutters, “But seriously, dude, I will never, ever, under any circumstance call you Dad.”
The thought is so out of the blue, I laugh. “I don’t think we need to worry about that.”
He murmurs something inaudible under his breath as he continues to shake his head while he walks toward the exit, leaving me alone.
Only this time, I don’t feel so alone. If anything, I feel like I’m gaining a family. Not just a team of hockey players, but a real one, with a wife and a son—a reluctant son—but a son, nonetheless.
Sure, it’s messy, but when isn’t life messy?
thirty-three
Bill
Six Months Later
I’m way too early for our date, but not by accident. I was actually hoping to beat Ruth before she got home from her shift at the diner, but I can tell by her car in the driveway that didn’t happen. I raise my hand to the door and debate whether to knock. There’s a flicker of light coming from the living room window, and I set my gaze inside, trying to peek through the curtains. Just like I thought. Noah’s watching the TV, and Ruth is nowhere to be seen. More than likely she’s still washing up. Breathing a sigh of relief as I still might have time to save my plans, I tap lightly on the window, so only Noah can hear.
He looks up after only two taps, and his brows dip. I quickly hold my finger to my lips in a shushing motion as I point to the front door, and mouth, “Open the door but be quiet.”
When Noah opens the door, his hair is damp and he’s wearing a team hoodie. He blinks like he wasn’t expecting me for another half hour. “Uh, my mom’s not ready yet,” he says, gripping the doorframe. “I can let her know you’re here.”
“No, don't say a word.” I hold up my hand in a stop motion, trying to keep it easy. “I actually wanted to talk to you for a minute, if that’s okay?”
His shoulders tense, and for a second I see the same guarded look I’ve seen in the locker room after a bad call. But to his credit, he steps aside. “Sure. Yeah. Come in.”
We settle in the living room, where he stays standing with his arms folded across his chest. In his defense, having your boss show up unannounced is an odd thing to happen. I take a slow breath, because there’s no easy way to do this. “Noah,” I start, my voice lower than usual. “You can relax, because it’s not about hockey or anything about you at all.”
His eyes lock on me cautiously, and I go on, “You probably know I care a lot about your mom. I’ve been lucky enough to spend time with her—and with you. And I don’t take either of those things lightly.” I pause, pressing my palms together. “I loveher. I want to marry her. But before I ask her, I wanted to talk to you.”
He swallows hard, shifting his weight. “Wait. What? You… want to marry my mom?”
“I do.” I nod once, because I only need one nod. I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my life. “And I want you to know this doesn’t change your life. I’m not trying to replace anyone or take anything from you. You’ll always be her son, her priority. I just want to be part of her world—and yours—if you’ll let me.”
He’s quiet but not because he can't speak. His throat works as I see several swallows pulse in his throat. After the longest pause, where sweat pours out of my palms, he lets out a breath that sounds like a half-laugh. “This is… weird,” he admits. “Like, really weird. But”—he scratches the back of his neck—“I know you make her happy. So… yeah. Whatever you think and if she wants to.”
Something tight in my chest loosens. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “It means a lot to get your blessing.”
And of course, that’s when the door opens down the hall, and we both jerk our gazes in that direction, not looking suspicious at all…
thirty-four
Ruth
I smooth my dress down one last time with my nerves fluttering in my chest, and I step out of my room.
“Ah!” I nearly trip back when I see Bill standing in my living room like he owns the place, chatting casually with Noah. My pulse skitters like it’s just been caught doing something it shouldn’t. “I didn’t even hear you knock.”
