After we finish eating, Molly and Sinclaire take Silas inside to find more toys. That leaves me alone with Trick on the patio.
He’s quiet for a long moment, staring out at the lake. Then he turns to me.
“Sinclaire was worried about you,” he says. “That’s why we’re here, although that has faded in importance with the new news.”
I frown. “Why was she worried?”
“She said you’ve been morestressed than usual during your calls.” He leans back in his chair. “Said you sounded defeated. That’s not like you so early in the season.”
“It’s been a rough start,” I admit. “We’re not clicking yet. The roster changes, the new guys not meshing with the veterans. It’s frustrating.”
“I could come to practice, talk to some of the guys. Remind them what it takes to win.” He grins. “Or I could just glare at them. That used to work pretty well.”
“It still would,” I say, grateful. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“That’s what family’s for.” He glances toward the house, where Molly’s voice floats out through the open door as she plays with Silas. “She seems good for you. Young as hell, but good.”
“She is.” I can’t keep the smile off my face. “I know it looks crazy, but she’s just incredible.”
“Jeff, I married your daughter. You really think I’m going to judge?”
“Yeah, fuck. Of course not. Look, I’m sorry about?—”
“Water under the bridge. Besides, you look happy.” Trick stands up and claps me on the shoulder. “Now, come on. Let’s get in there before Sinclaire interrogates your wife.”
But inside, there’s no grilling going on. Molly’s teaching Silas a clapping game, both of them sitting cross-legged on the living room floor. Sinclaire’s watching them with an expression I can’t quite read.
“He likes her,” she says quietly when I sit down beside her. “I can see why you fell for her. She’s really lovely.”
Molly blushes but keeps playing with my grandson.
“She is lovely,” I say, not nearly as quiet. “She’s been like a lightning bolt of energy to the organization too.”
Sinclaire nods thoughtfully. “Hence the secret.”
“Exactly. Thank you for understanding.”
“Of course, Dad.” She smiles. “Even if you didaccidentallymarry someoneyoungerthan me.”
“Never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Not even a little bit.”
Molly looks up and catches my eye with a soft, private smile that I feel all the way to my bones.
And then Silas tackles her, and she tumbles to the floor, and that warm, private feeling turns to a deeper, hungrier desire to see her holding a child of her own, of our own, and to be more present for that baby than I was with Sinclaire.
I glance sideways at my daughter.
She wrinkles her nose at me. “Yeah, okay. I’ll probably have siblings, huh?”
“Sorry if that’s weird for you.” Because it won’t be weird for me. At all. I’m looking forward to the white picket fence years. “We might move to Wyoming.”
Her vaguely weirded out expressionmorphs to pure glee. “Yes. Oh my God. Please have all the babies and move to Wildflower Hollow. You can coach Little League.”
As far as plans go, it’s pretty fucking perfect.
When Trick and I put on the Toronto-New York game in the afternoon, Molly borrows my car to go get some stuff from her apartment.
