“You know what? Don’t answer that. I am going to say, though, if I could go back in time and see Willow again, I wouldn’t waste a second of my day. I would forgive whatever has kept her away for this long without a word, just for the chance of another day with her.” Willow, the love of his life and childhood friend, who disappeared from his life one year ago and has never come back. Liam recently became a single dad after his wife left him to go chase fame or some shit like that.
“How are the kids?” I change the topic because there’s no winning this argument.
“They’re fine. Amelia is sassy as fuck, per usual, and Elijah, well, Elijah is teething. Again. Molars, maybe? He’s miserable. Giving me a run for my money for sure. Amelia was never like this. It’s exhausting.”
“That little boy has you wrapped around his tiny fingers, though.”
“Yeah. Do you know what my dad says about why babies are cute?” he asks, stepping out of the rink.
“What?”
“That they’re cute so you don’t eat them. Elijah is living up to that.” I laugh the same way I do every time I hear Joe’s opinion about any topic. I never know who’s parenting whom, Liam or Joe. That man is a hoot. It tugs at my heart to know I’ll never have that type of relationship with Jerry.
I would think I would want a relationship with that piece of shit after losing the only two family members I had, but I can’t. I can’t look past the years of hurt. The screaming, the absence, the abandonment. Letting us believe he was dead when Mom was pregnant, and I was twelve. What kind of man does that?
We go through the motions of cleaning up what’s left in the arena and double-check the locker room. The girls are good atnot leaving stuff behind, but it’s good to make sure. Skates and equipment are put away, and we grab our bags and head out.
“Let me know if you need help with the kids this week,” I reply, tossing our bags in the back of his truck, heading home. Liam became a firefighter when he retired, so he works a couple of twenty-four-hour shifts a week. His dad and a babysitter take care of the kids, but our friend group helps when we can. We’re a weird bunch, but we have each other’s backs.
“I will. Are you gonna tell me more about your dad?”
“I thought you were gonna drop it.”
“Just testing the waters.” He continues to drive, music playing in the background, and Jerry in my mind.
The song coming through the speaker is the same one playing at that cute bookstore I went to a few weeks ago, and it takes me back there.
As I toss the weight of my indecision in my head, the beautiful girl with the pretty eyes comes to mind. She said she’d offer advice. It’s been a while since I felt like I could talk to someone the way I wanted to talk to her that day. Something I learned while playing for years is that if you find something that works, stick to it like a routine.
Maybe I’ll go back to her.
5
THE SOULMATE THEORY
Autumn Leaves by Ed Sheeran • Begin Again (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift
Natalie
“Bella,please help me find Vero’s shoes,” I shout, grabbing last-minute snacks from the fridge and placing them in Vero’s bag. How is it that this girl has more pairs of shoes than me, yet we can never find them? I always feel like I’m wrangling a tornado getting everyone dressed and ready in the mornings, but today is a special type of chaos.
“Mom, it’s Sunday. Why can't she stay home with me? You’ll be back in a few hours, and I’m fifteen, not ten.”
Why does she want to grow up so fast? Doesn’t she know growing up is a hoax? “Fourteen. You’re not fifteen yet.”
She tries to roll her blue eyes, but when I narrow mine, she lets a breath out.
“I can take care of her is what I meant.” She can, she’s not wrong, but she’s also a child. She doesn’t need to co-parent with me, and the least I can do is let her have Sundays free.
“Sweetie, it’s not a big deal; I just need you to help me find her shoes. I’m already running late.”
I hate being late, but I’m also exhausted. Between owning a business, raising two humans, keeping a house from falling apart, pretending I’m a therapist for the teenage daughter going through major hormonal changes and for the little one who needs so much help, and playing chauffeur, everything is catching up to me. So when my alarm didn’t go off this morning, I also didn’t wake up. And now, we’re late.
I know I need help, but how do you prioritize what to ask for? I need childcare so I can work, so that’s been my priority; everything else can fall in behind.
“Don’t you trust me?” she asks, appearing from behind her door wearing a dress as if she’s ready to go, holding the baby’s shoes in her hand. I really have to stop calling her baby; she’s three now.
I stop what I’m doing and look at her. My beautiful teenage daughter. I see so much of her dad in her and almost none of me. That’s a good thing. He was all good, capable, and put together, and I’m barely afloat.
