I fumble to get the message unsent before she can see it, but she must be watching the screen, because three dots dance at the bottom of mine. I wait, abandoning my impulse to delete the text. I swallow thickly when they disappear and pop back up again.
Solnyshka
I miss you, too. x
“Hi, Nicky,”Violet says, stretching onto her toes to give me a hug. I wrap an arm around her to return the greeting, surreptitiously scanning over her shoulder for her best friend.
I’m standing next to the bar, finishing a beer, in the converted industrial building where the Halloween party was hosted. Instead of a Gothic mansion fit for haunting, the space has been transformed into a postcard of seasonal perfection. There are massive evergreen trees with white-flocked needles and twinkle lights bursting through the branches scattered around the room. The tables are draped with heavy tablecloths of silver and lapis; champagne and navy-blue ornaments are scattered artfully down the center to offset the ivory place settings. There are a few carefully curated areas designed to look like cozy living rooms; plush lounges in sapphire and alabaster oversized armchairs that have low tables for drinks nearby. They surround electric fireplaces and stoves, inviting guests to sit for a drink and warm themselves in the welcoming orange glow. It’s an unusual combination of colors for this time of year, eschewing the popular crimson and clover accents, but theoverall effect makes the space feel more like a gilded winter night than Santa’s workshop on steroids.
After drawing back from Violet, and with no successful sighting of Bea, I twist back to the bar, waving down a bartender for her. Crosby stands just off her shoulder, and I give his hand a shake as a greeting.
“This suit is very nice,” Violet says after she orders one of the night’s custom cocktails. I look down at the hunter-green ensemble I allowed the salesperson to talk me into when I was shopping for Natalia. It was an impulse to search for something new, and maybe saying the words “holiday party” had been a mistake when I was asked what the suit was for. I hope I don’t look like a Hallmark movie extra.
“I feel a little like a peacock,” I admit. The color is rich, so I don’t feel too much like a Christmas tree, and the navy-and-green plaid tie helps the outfit fit in more than I imagined. But, overall, I feel silly for wearing something purely to try and impress Bea.
“You look incredibly handsome,” Violet reassures me. Crosby gives an encouraging nod as he picks up their drinks. “We’re going to go sit with my dad for a bit. Want to join us?”
She points to where Coach is seated in one of the living room setups. He’s relaxed in the armchair, watching the fire and talking to Ava, who is seated on the sofa across from him. I don’t want to stand here looking desperate, so I leave my empty beer bottle on the bar top and follow Violet.
When we get close, Coach stands to press a kiss to his daughter’s cheek. He gives Crosby a hug and then approaches me. I offer a hand, but he ignores it. Even if he’s shorter than me, Coach pulls me down for a hug with a few pats to my shoulder. We greet each other quietly, and I’m chided for not calling him Cal off the ice. Violet and Crosby drift over to the other open spots on the couch.
“How’s Natalia?” Coach—Cal—asks. “She hasn’t come by in a while. Then again, she’s a big kindergartener now. Probably can’t fit me into her schedule.”
I chuckle low in my throat, and Cal beams. It’s nice to have another single dad to laugh with about these things. When I first joined the team, it took a couple of weeks to adjust to the schedule, leaving Natalia’s childcare inconsistent. With no one to watch her one day, I called to tell him I couldn’t make practice. Cal told me to come anyway and to bring Nat.
For the entire practice, Cal held my daughter as he skated on the ice between drills. Then he would retreat with her to the penalty boxes, where he had small toys and crayons so they could watch safely and be entertained. When I headed to the locker room to change, he produced a pair of worn toddler skates and asked if they could skate together. Natalia was all too happy to show off her burgeoning skills to “Papa Cal” while I cleaned up.
Natalia was so sad when her babysitter showed up the next day and I didn’t have to take her to practice with me again. Since then, I’ve tried to bring her to the facility whenever I can, but now that she’s in school, it’s harder.
“She’s doing really well,” I finally say. “I had her parent-teacher conference just before Thanksgiving. Her teacher says she’s above grade-level for some skills, and exactly where she should be for others. Says Nat is very mature for her age.”
“Glad to hear it, Nicky. She’s a great kid, and you’re a great dad.” Cal squeezes my arm, and his compliment fills me with an indescribable warmth. He turns back to the rest of the group after that, bringing up wedding plans with Violet and Crosby, with Ava adding comments here and there. I mostly stay quiet, zoning out and observing the rest of the room.
“Where’s Bea tonight?” Cal asks, and I can feel a twinge in my neck at how quickly I tune into the conversation. Charlie chooses that moment to wander up next to me, Obie close behind.
“She’s on her way,” Violet answers, pulling her phone from the small purse at her side and checking the screen. “Dealing with a ‘Gus situation’ is all it says.”
“Dear God, what does that mean?” Charlie sighs. There’s a slight ruckus from the entrance doors.
“I think we’re about to find out,” I reply. As we turn to see what the commotion is, Obie lifts his hands in surrender.
“Just know, I tried to talk him out of it before we left the house.”
Coming toward us is Gus, in a classic black suit, cackling. But sitting atop his head is a green headband, a spring attached to it. At the end of it is a sprig of mistletoe, bouncing wildly as he uses his long legs to stride purposefully across the room to us. Just behind him, in a blur of champagne satin and flowing chestnut hair, is Bea, giving a controlled chase.
“Augustus Rosemary Kelly, take that bloody thing off your bloody head right now, or so help me?—”
Bea pulls up short at seeing all of us watching the scene unfold. Gus dives behind Obie and Charlie, stripping the ridiculous headband off and unceremoniously shoving it on my head. Then, everything stills as I nearly cross my eyes to look up at the bobbing plant.
“Now you can finally kiss each other and get itover with!” Gus crows gleefully. Obie grabs him under the arm, Charlie shakes his head, and Crosby rises from the couch. They all wisely move Gus away from me, because at this moment, I’m not sure if I want to punch him or hug him for his meddling ways. A blush tries to creep up my neck because I am deeply embarrassed and annoyed.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Cal, ever the voice of reason, says. He carefully plucks the headband off my head, pushing it into my hands as Ava comes up beside him. Her lips are pressed thin in seriousness, but she has to work to keep them that way as she stifles a giggle.
“Yes, this is wholly inappropriate for aparty,” she manages, and Cal cracks a smile as they turn away.
The only people left are me, Violet, and Bea. I’m still bewildered by the entire performance, even as my hands flex around the offending accessory, but my eyes are fixed on Bea. I’ve reined in my emotions, but I can’t figure out how she feels, and I’m currently too distracted by how she looks to figure it out. She’s stunning in the floor-length gown with elbow-length sleeves and a draped, open back. Her face is flushed, from embarrassment or exertion, and it makes her glow in an ethereal way. With cascading, controlled waves, her dark hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it.
“I’m going to go watch what happens,” Violet announces as she stands. She leans to give an air kiss over Bea’s cheek and squeezes her hand before she walks away.
