His niece Charlotte?
“She’s Chelsea’s daughter?”he asked.
“Amanda’s.”
Ben winced.He hadn’t seen Amanda or Chelsea in seventeen years, and they’d both had multiple children already by then.He’d lost track.Some combination of his frequent changes of address and his mom’s communication embargo meant Ben had stopped getting the birth announcements.
“She’ll be there by Saturday at the latest, maybe sooner.I’ll let you know what bus she’ll be on.”
“Uh, Mom—”
“She needs a place to stay and a job.You’ll find something.”
“I don’t know how permanent my living situation is here.It’s—”
“She can’t stay here, Benny.”
Mom hadn’t called him that in sixteen years.Whatever Charlotte had done to make herself unwelcome with the family, Mom had decided he was the right port of call.She’d called in favors before, though nothing as huge as “take in this person you’ve never met.”More often than not, it was a request to mail some item or good the church didn’t approve of, like caffeine or alcohol, so the purchase couldn’t be traced back to her.Sometimes, she asked him to get in touch with another ex-member to relay a message or make a request.Having a person on the outside was useful because their family was so strict about the doctrines.At the same time, Ben got to keep a lifeline to his family.Mormons encouraged insular relationships with other Mormons.Close friendships and relationships outside the church were hard to maintain, and once you left, the church expected those you left behind to cut ties completely.Ben knew Mom had broken the rules by keeping his number at all.
Charlotte must need someone very, very badly.
“Okay.I’ll figure something out.”
Blank silence followed in which she should have said thank you, and he should have told her he loved her.
Instead, she said, “Happy Thanksgiving,” and hung up.
Ben groaned and collapsed into the winged back of his stupidly big chair.For such an active sport, being part of the NHL had introduced him to the world of comfortable office chairs, and he didn’t know how he would give it up.On the bright side, if Phil had this kind of furniture in the guest room, maybe he had enough space for another surprise guest for a night or two until Ben figured out what the hell he was going to do.
He’d forgotten to ask how old Charlotte was.Since Mom said she could get a job, it would probably be fine, right?She had to be of age.She’d stay a day or two, figure out her next steps, and then she’d be gone.
Ben thought of how naive and unprepared for the world he had been when he’d left for college.
He was in such deep shit.
Of course, Phil chose that moment to come hobbling up the stairs, much too fast for a man on one crutch, and bang on the door.
“Ben?Ben, I know you’re in there.”
“What?”
Phil ripped open the door.“How did you manage to miss a full locker room blowout?”
“A what now?”
“You know, the D-core splitting themselves apart?Bigotry?Slurs getting thrown around?Any of this ringing a bell?”
Ben rolled his eyes to the ceiling.It was probably the wrong time to admit he could not care less about hockey player drama.
“Come with me,” Phil snapped.He turned and left the doorway before Ben could properly protest.
He caught up to Phil at the staircase.
“How is it you took all of one day to fix the stairs for me,” Phil said, “but you completely ignore Hayes saying racist shit in the locker room?”
Oh shit.No wonder Trout thought Hayes would be traded.
If Ben had missed that, he was really shit at this job, both the coaching and the other part.
