“Please,” he rasps, and my heart aches, but I just hold the phone out. “Sweetheart, your dad is on the phone.”
Chloe grabs it eagerly. “Daddy!”
The next five minutes are a rapid-fire report about the earthquake, the blanket squares, and what we’re going to cook for dinner..
By the time she hands the phone back, Rhodes sounds calmer.
“Thanks for that,” he says. “It was…” A breath. “Much worse over here—a lot of buildings took damage and some of the roads are closed.”
My heart spasms. “I didn’t realize. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It just might take me a while to get home.”
“Okay, no problem,” I say. “We’ll be here.”
“Call me if anything else happens.”
“Of course.”
We hang up.
Chloe climbs back onto her chair and studies the blanket pieces again. “Do you think kittens get scared during earthquakes?”
I blink. “Kittens?”
“At Chrissy’s rescue.”
Ah.
The cat rescue run by the daughter of the Eagles’ owner, Christina Dawson, née Dubois (she’s now married to the captain of the Eagles, Rome).
Chloe has been obsessed with it ever since we drove by the building last week and I mentioned I volunteer there sometimes.
“I’m sure they’re okay,” I tell her.
“Maybe we should go check in on them.”
“They have volunteers already doing that,” I hedge (with Rhodes as worried as he was when I spoke to him there’s no way I’m taking Chloe out of this house). “But maybe we can visit them sometime soon.”
Her eyes light up at that. “Did you know Chrissy has kittens?”
My lips twitch. “I did.” And they’re freaking adorable.
“I want one.”
“I bet.”
Her gaze comes to mine. “Maybe Daddy will say yes.”
I don’t point out that professional hockey players who travel constantly might not be ideal kitten parents. Instead, I let her dream a little and just say, “Maybe.”
She sighs and goes back to the blanket.
“Jake fell off the climbing wall,” she announces several minutes later.
“Oh my gosh,” I say, pinning the next square she’s chosen in place. “Is he okay?”
A shrug. “He cried.”
