Caulder falls asleep within a couple songs, but I keep singing since this is the first time he’s looked peaceful in six days since this bullshit went viral. I sing until my voice starts to sound like shit and I’m afraid my squeaks and cracks will wake him up.
Then I hum for a while longer. I’m not sure if it’s my voice or the music that helps him sleep peacefully. So when I begin falling asleep, I move my phone close to the tablet and make sure he can hear the music playing.
“Goodnight, Caulder Haines,” I whisper. “I think I love you.”
Caulder sighs in his sleep. I stare at him a while longer and decide that I don’t truly have to think about it. I love him. There’s no doubt in my mind. My heart. My entire body.
I love him.
He looks well-restedwhen he opens his eyes. As soon as he opens them, he immediately looks for the tablet. Looking for me. There’s nothing that makes my heart race more than that. I’m his first thought.
“Morning, babe,” I say.
His smile climbs. “Morning.”
“You look like you got some sleep.”
“Mmm,” he hums. “Someone was singing to me and promising me a vacation.”
“I’ll sing to you any time, though I think it’ll sound best when you’re half asleep.”
He grins.
“Also, I have every intention of taking you on vacation, Caulder. We’ve kind of talked in theory about what happens after the season’s over, but I will be on the first flight to you after my last game.”
“You’re going to come here? You don’t want me to come there?”
“For now, I’ll fly to you. We can go from there. I have a feeling any place we want to go is going to be easiest to fly from the East Coast anyway.”
Caulder sighs. His eyes close again but this time, they’re relaxed. For this small window, he’s not thinking about the stupid bitch who’s caused him so much stress and panic. For this tiny moment in time, he’s only thinking about happy things. Me.
“What time do you have to go?” I ask.
He shifts in bed until he finds his phone. “Hour.”
“Get up and get dressed. You need to eat. I can see that you haven’t been eating.”
“Yes, Dad,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes. But he gets up, grabbing the tablet as he moves through the room.
Watching him get ready makes my chest warm. It feels normal. Moving through life with him. Sharing his mundanedaily tasks and being here for anything. Any random thought. Every big moment. All things that make him upset. I’m here.
Far away, but here. It sucks, and I love it at the same time.
I reluctantly get off the line when he can’t stall going out the door any longer. He does need to eat. If I thought it wouldn’t raise too many questions, I’d message Creed to make sure Caulder eats something.
Now it’s a waiting game. Half an hour until they board the bus. Twenty-minute ride to the airport. Probably another forty minutes, at least, before he’s on the Skidmoss jet. Then there’s a five-and-a-half-hour flight if the skies are clear and there are no delays in landing. Another forty minutes to deplane and get to the bus on the other end.
There’s going to be a big gap between check out and when I see him. I’m not sure what to do with my day until then. What’s there to do in Buffalo in March? If it wouldn’t raise questions, I’d go to the arena and utilize their gym. I doubt they’d mind.
Instead, I pass my time watching television and scrolling through social media. I should stay off social media because it just pisses me off. But at least all this woman’s posts are basically repeats of the last handful. As are the comments. I spend a couple hours reporting fake news and hate comments as I absently listen to sports news.
When check out comes, I convince the reception to allow me into the hotel gym and hold my bags. There I pass another handful of hours. Caulder messages me sporadically. I know he’s on his flight now. Thirty thousand feet in the sky, probably flying over Wisconsin right now. Maybe not that far. Minnesota maybe.
I know he’s talking to his friends because his texts are spread out. He does that so he doesn’t appear too focused on his phone. No questions that way.
I’m not nearly as good about hiding the fact that I text him as often as I do. Keno is especially interested to know about the girl I’m hiding, which of course makes everyone else turn their attention to me. The only answer I give him is that I’m not hiding a girl.
Which is 100% true! No girls here.
