He slowly nods, and his cheeks tighten from the reality. “Right. Pregnant,” he repeats to himself. Throwing his thumb over his shoulder, he has a pained expression. “I should go then, if you don’t need anything right now. You need rest.”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” I’m kind of pissed off, and I’m not exactly sure the root of it. Asher has every right to deal with his shock in his own way. Maybe I’m just too sensitive. Hormones, right?
He gawks at me from my brazen attitude. “Sunday. I’ll see you Sunday.”
I bob my head groggily and let my head fall onto my pillow as he sees himself out.
Staring up at the ceiling, I accept that I’m completely lost right now.
CHAPTER 7
ASHER
That was a brutal loss. I mean, we still got a point for the standings because we went into overtime, but I hate the coach from the other team. He wastes all of our time calling out to the referee for every single damn push on the ice and then complains in press conferences about the tactics of my defensemen. My cold reception to our guys in the locker room after the game probably wasn’t warranted, but I had aggression to get out, and it had nothing to do with them, unfortunately. Maybe it was my own personal meltdown. But my demeanor softened for a second when our goalie showed his phone to the team, with the screen filled with photos of his seven-month-old and his face covered with sweet potato while he wore a ridiculous little turkey hat.
Needless to say, I went quiet, and maybe it was too eerie for the team, because Tyler broke my daze and asked if I was okay. I’m entering the same daze again as I sit on a bench on Main Street in Everhope. The windows decorated in holiday decorations are in an odd way calming. The little boy crossing the street holding his mom’s hand while she carriesshopping bags in the other reminds me of why I’m sitting here with a coffee in hand and waiting for Gracie.
I’m well aware that I will not be receiving any awards for my reaction the other day. I’ve thought about this on so many levels. I’m a man of strong integrity and character. I’m going to take responsibility, whatever Gracie chooses.
But a baby isn’t a career. It’s a whole new realm that I’m not familiar with. I also can’t be the guy who gives money and stands at a distance, seeing their child once a year. I’m probably not the typical candidate for father of the year, but in hockey and in life, there is always a wild card thrown at you. Maybe I could even become father of the year. If I’m as determined to do well with that role as I am being a coach, then I could put the same effort into being a damn good dad. However, for once, I’m not a pro at something. I’m back to being a rookie, except Ireallycan’t fuck up this game because it isn’t one at all; it's a baby.
It's nerve-wracking as hell, but it keeps repeating in my head what to do. A shiver runs through me, because despite the lack of snow, Illinois is still freezing this time of year.
Taking a sip of my coffee, my eyes flick up when I see Gracie approaching, and my heartrate speeds up because here we are a few days later to talk. She slows her arrival and tightens her maroon-colored scarf around her neck over her gray coat.
“Is this seat taken?” Her smile is weak, and she must be nervous too.
I scoot over to make room. “No, it was waiting for you.”
She sits down, and we both look forward and sit in silence. How the hell do we begin this conversation?
“Foxy Rox put a train in the window among fake snow,” I comment, and I guess that’s how we are starting.
“I noticed.” She begins to make a noise. “Speaking ofcoffee, is that coffee that you are drinking?” She visibly swallows then covers her mouth.
“Yes.” My face contorts because I’m a little lost.
She presses her fingers against her lips. “Yeah, the smell makes me want to vomit.”
Huh… oh, wait.
“Noted.” I stand and quickly jog to discard the drink in the trash can by the newspaper box on the corner that nobody uses anymore, then return to Gracie. “Morning sickness?”
She tilts her head to the side. “Something like that.” Her sight remains razored to the ground.
I guess this is a good entry point into the serious conversation that we need to have. “Look, Grac?—”
“I’m keeping the baby.” She blurts out her interruption then turns her head to face me, her eyes heavy, but there is a glint of delicate tenacity. Maybe she wants to see my reaction.
The breath that I take feels heavy but right. “We’re doing this.”
“Is that what you want?” She sounds a little doubtful.
I nod subtly. “Yeah. I’m in this.”
It’s obvious that her body is flooding with relief. “Okay… Not going to lie, I was hoping you would say that. I’ve been freaking out for a few days now.”
I can’t help but chuff a laugh. “Yeah, freaking out might be an understatement.” We both share that.
