“Yes, sweetheart, we’ll do our best to come to the home games once we move to Denver.”
So Margo’s sister is moving to town and will apparently be a fixture at our games. Our home games, anyway.
Good for her. Her kid will like that, judging by the reaction April just gave her mother. And hell, maybe she’s good luck for the team. We won tonight, after all.
Or maybe it was the three-tap ritual she caught me doing. She has an eye for detail, I’ll give her that. I can’t even remember the last time someone asked me about what has become more than a habit, more than a ritual, even. I don’t believe in all that superstitious shit, but I draw the line at tapping the goalpost.
That’s a requirement.
“Nice save tonight, Parker.” Reese, our right winger, claps me on the shoulder. “You always make it look damn near effortless.”
“It wasn’t effortless. My positioning was off by half a step.”
He snorts. “Damn, Grant. Do you ever just take a compliment?”
“I’m just saying I could’ve been a little more locked in.” I give a half-shrug, as if I haven’t been obsessing about how I should have seen the shot coming a little earlier or been a fraction of a second faster with my reactions. “But we got there in the end.”
He laughs. “Man, you’re gonna give yourself an ulcer one of these days. I’m surprised your blood pressure isn’t sky high, the way you’re always stressing about that shit.”
“One-ten over seventy.” The number rolls off my tongue as easily as anything, since I’ve already checked it three times today. Morning exercise, pre-game, and post-game, just like clockwork. “And anyway, someone has to stress about this shit to make up for a few folks who probably don’t stress enough.”
The dig isn’t necessarily aimed at Reese, but I know he’s easy-going enough to take it in stride. He clutches at his heart like he’s been wounded, but he still has that easy grin on his face, so I know we’re all good.
“Look, man,” he says. “All I’m saying is that I know we’re all our own worst critics, but maybe take a second to pat yourself on the back and accept when you do a damn good job. Like tonight.”
“Thanks,” I say, knowing he’s right even if I don’t want to hear it.
“Of course. Callie tells me the same thing all the time,” he adds with a grin.
He starts to say something else, but my attention is across the room where Heather has pulled her phone from her purse. She looks down at the screen with a small frown, then says something to Margo and steps away from the group.
Reese is still talking—something about the shot he nearly made in the second period—but I’ve lost the thread of the conversation.
Heather’s shoulders are tense as she brings the phone to her ear. Even from here, I can see the way her expression changes. Her easy smile from a few moments ago is gone, and there’s a little line between her eyebrows that wasn’t there before.
She turns slightly away, her free hand coming up to press against her forehead. Her voice is too low to hear, but the way she’s holding herself, all hunched and protective, tells me enough.
Something is wrong.
“You good, Parker?” Reese asks, and I realize I’ve completely checked out of whatever he was saying.
“Yeah. Fine.”
But my eyes track Heather as she ends the call and stands there for a moment, staring at her phone. She takes a breath, then another, like she’s trying to compose herself before heading back to the group. But there’s no mistaking the tiredness in her eyes when she finally returns to Margo’s side.
She leans in close to her sister and whispers something into her ear.
Margo steps to the side and places a comforting arm on her back, and I take the opportunity to move over next to Noah. He seems to be catching on that something is wrong, but also seems to be just as clueless as I am about what the actual problem is.
It only takes a couple of moments before Margo turns to face Noah again, mirroring her sister’s same dismayed expression.
“Heather needs our help. She needs to stay with us for a while.”
“No, no, no.” Heather is already shaking her head before Noah can say anything. “I can’t. We can’t do that. You’re pregnant, and I don’t want to even—it would just be a lot for everyone, you know? We’ll figure something out.”
“Can I ask what happened?” The words are out of my mouth before I can think to stop myself. And the way everyone slowly turns to look at me with varying expressions of confusion and outright surprise on their faces makes me instantly wonder if I’ve overstepped. “I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but… maybe there’s something I can help with?”
Noah is looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Are you feeling okay, Parker? You’re trying to help someone for no apparent reason? Do you have some sins to atone for or something?”
