HEATHER: From you? I find that very hard to believe.
Her dry humor almost makes me laugh out loud. She isn’t trying to flirt or impress me. She’s just making conversation with that quick wit and straightforward honesty that I’ve come to appreciate so much from her.
“Earth to Parker. You still with us, man?” Reese’s voice is like a bucket of cold water in the middle of the best dream.
I fumble with my phone, nearly dropping it as I shove it into my pocket.
“Yeah, sorry, I was just checking on something.”
Noah tosses me a knowing look. “Something? Or someone?”
My ears are getting warm and the rest of the guys are starting to look this way with exactly the kind of nudges and smirks I’ve been trying to avoid.
It turns out I haven’t done myself any favors by sitting here and grinning at my phone this whole time.
“Something,” I answer, hoping there’s enough bite in my tone to shut down any other questions.
But of course Sawyer has to put his two cents in. “Must be a pretty interesting something to put that look on your face.”
I’m not taking the bait this time, though. And luckily, it’s time for my one-on-one conditioning on the other side of the facility. After that, I’ll have an ice bath and a massage, right on time, just like I always do.
I’m tempted to point it out to my teammates, to put it on the record that my routine is still very much intact, but I know it won’t do any good.
The guys will double down on their jokes and I’ll cause myself more annoyance than it’s worth.
Instead, I finish my post-practice routine and make it back out to my car without any more commentary from the peanut gallery.
My drive home feels shorter than normal, even with the added stop by the grocery store to pick up a few things for Heather and April. And even though I plan on sticking to my routine once I get home, I’m looking forward to checking in on them and seeing how their day went.
The first thing I notice when I pull through the gate is that the lights are on in the house, and it looks so different that I honestly just sit in the car and stare for a solid ten or fifteen seconds before I cut the engine and get out.
This is what my house looks like when it’s lived in, and I have to admit that I like it. It looks right.
It’s easy to imagine Heather and April sitting on the couch, talking and laughing while they watch their favorite shows.
The thought makes me smile as I walk up to the front door and let myself in.
And then my smile immediately falters. I can tell as soon as I set the groceries down on the kitchen counter that something is wrong.
Heather is at the kitchen table by herself, not relaxing comfortably on the couch with her daughter like I’d imagined. She’s looking out the window with a sort of blank expression, and only seems to notice that I’ve walked in after I clear my throat.
“Is, uh, everything okay?” I ask even though I already know the short answer to that question.
“Yeah, it’s…” Her voice trails off, then she shakes her head. “Well, no. Not really. It’s been a hell of a day, if you honestly want to know.”
“I do want to know.” The groceries can wait. I walk over and sit down in the chair next to her, giving her my full attention. “Do you want to talk about it?” Before she can answer, another thought hits me. “Is April okay?”
She nods. “She’s upstairs taking a nap before dinner. She had a rough day too.”
“What happened?”
Her shoulders sag a little, and I wonder for a moment if she’s going to shut down without telling me what’s going on. Still, I don’t push or try to rush her. If she wants to talk, we’ll talk. If she doesn’t, we won’t.
When she finally speaks again, her voice is quiet and strained. “Remember how excited April was when we left here this morning?”
I nod. “She seemed a little nervous, but mostly excited for her first day at the new school.”
“Exactly. I had high hopes that it was going to be a good day, but it was barely past lunchtime when she called me at work, asking—no, begging—me to come get her and take her home.”
