Just then, the shout comes through. “There you are!”
We both turn to see her mom standing there. She looks so young. There’s no way she’s old enough to have a teenage daughter, but after my conversation with Natalie this week, Ineed to stop assuming. Even if she is young, so what? Clearly, she’s doing a great job.
Unlike Izzy, her mom’s got blonde hair, and although they have the same striking blue eyes, that’s where the resemblance stops. Her mom is covered in tattoos, with long blonde hair and a lean body. Izzy’s got dark, almost black, hair, fuller cheeks, and she’s built of solid muscle. Maybe she takes after her dad after all.
“Are you okay?” her mom asks, brow furrowed as Izzy approaches her with her duffel bag in tow.
“Yeah, I think I will be,” Izzy says, her voice steadier now. “Coach Clay helped me out.”
Her mom looks back at me. I don’t know her name, but she smiles in affirmation—grateful. No need for thanks, as clear as day. I don’t need gratefulness; this meant more to me than her for sure.
“Alright, well,” she says, trying to lighten the mood, “whatever it is, I bet ice cream and French fries can fix it.”
Izzy’s face lights up immediately. “Don’t tell Mom.”
Oh, I guess she’s not her mom. “I don’t actually care if we tell her. She didn’t say anything about not feeding you copious amounts of ice cream. Let’s go.”
They walk out, arm in arm. What a beautiful relationship they have. Maybe she’s her aunt. I can see her being like a little sister, giving her older sister hell and doing whatever she wants with her niece. Sometimes, I wish I had aunts and uncles, but other times, like this, when I remember how complicated life is, I’m okay living as a hermit.
But then there’s Natalie. I don’t remember the last time I felt I wanted more from life than right now. I want more games, more coffee time, more laughs. I want more of whatever I feel like when I’m around her.
I turn off the lights and head outside. We carpooled here, so Liam and I hop in the car and drive back to Oliver’s place. There’s something going on with his kid, so we’re all meeting up to chat.
“Did you know Izzy’s dad passed?” I ask, trying to break the silence.
“Yeah, it’s in her file,” Liam replies. “You should probably read those.”
“Not really my thing. I don’t want to get attached to them.”
“Why? You’re already attached to them.”
I don’t want to open room in my life for someone who might end up miserable because of one of my choices or mistakes. I’d rather be their coach. They’re my athletes. If I care about them and something happens to them, I spiral. Selfish, I know, but…I’d rather keep it that way.
When I don’t say anything, he continues. “Fine, keep lying to yourself. I don’t know much about it,” Liam adds, “but her file says it was some kind of tragedy a few years ago. And that certain things can trigger her—loud noises, alarms.”
“Interesting,” I mutter. “I really hope we never have a drill at the rink while she’s there.”
“There’s instructions on what to do,” he says. “Who to call if something happens.”
“And who’s that girl who brings her to practice?”
He shrugs. “I’m not sure, but not her mom.”
We hop into his Jeep and head toward Magnolia Springs, driving down the dark stretch of road in between.
“Oh, good, they’re here!”Aspen shouts, holding a tiny baby Calla to his chest as he opens the door and ushers us into Oliver’s house.
He’s holding Mateo’s tiny baby in one huge hand—carelessly careful, if that makes any sense. Aspen is an absolute menace with adults, but with kids? The guy turns into some kind of giant teddy bear with superpowers. He’s got Calla’s head supported perfectly, bouncing her lightly so it doesn’t wobble.
Mateo’s the sports manager for the hockey team Liam and I used to play for. Daisy has been his best friend his whole life, and a few years ago, they finally got their heads out of their asses and confessed their feelings. Now, they have this little bundle of joy Aspen is cradling like he was born to do it. Daisy is tucked against Mateo’s side on the giant beige sectional, looking exhausted but so damn happy.
Oliver and Liam went to school together. When I became friends with Liam, I became friends with Oliver by association. Same with his brother Lucas. They have an older brother, Dom, but he lives up in Tennessee, on a ranch somewhere in the mountains.
Magnolia Springs might be a small town, but the population has exploded in the last few years, making it feel almost chaotic as a big city sometimes. Dom hates that, so he stays gone.
Lucas and Oliver are standing by the kitchen table, both looking stressed.
“Who died?” Liam asks, kissing Calla’s head before settling in a recliner next to Aspen.
