Nataliahugs me like a koala on the walk from the elementary school office to my car in the parking lot. My visual examination shows no pale skin or sweaty forehead like I would expect from a child coming down with the flu. Her biggest symptoms are her silence and clinginess. I turn on a Disney songs playlist as I drive, and feel unease spread when no songs bring a smile to her face in the rearview mirror. I don’t like seeing her upset, and I can’t figure out where the illness would be coming from.
I’m mentally checking off names of Natalia’s classmates I’ve known to be ill in the last week, but coming up empty when we pull down our street, and Natalia exclaims, “Daddy!”
I focus on the front yard, where Nicky is, in fact, standing near the steps as though he’s been waiting for us in the cold. He starts toward the garage as I swing the car into the driveway.
“What’s going on?” I ask, climbing out of the car as Nicky extracts Natalia. She latches herself around him, and he cuddles her close. His eyes cut to mine, and I know whatever answer he has for me is not for little ears to hear, so I give him a nod.Together, we get Natalia into the house and set up in the living room with a light lunch of crackers and chicken noodle soup. He doesn’t seem overly concerned about Natalia’s vomiting, just turned on a children’s read-aloud show on the television. With her settled, I finally pull Nicky into the kitchen.
“I had a panic attack,” he begins, unprompted, as soon as we’re alone. My stomach drops, and I wrap my arms around his waist. I give him my best apologetic face. He lets out a sigh, long and soul-shaking as his diaphragm collapses against me. It draws me closer, and I follow the pull of his body, falling against him and squeezing him tighter. Nicky props his chin on my head before I’m cocooned in his arms.
“I had my skates on and was sitting in the locker room. Getting ready with the guys had been fine, I didn’t feel concerned—just different,” Nicky starts. I close my eyes, listening to him and picturing everything he says. “Leo asked me to help him with a shot he’s working on, and suddenly I couldn’t get up from the bench. My whole body refused to move. Charlie gave me shit about it, and the next thing I knew, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like my heart was—” He pulls me even closer, his breath stuttering. I open my eyes and twist my head to put my chin against his chest. Nicky looks down at me with fear in his eyes. “I thought I was dying again, only this time I had to feel all of it. Scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m so sorry that happened.” My words are inadequate but honest, and I fight off my own fear at hearing him talk about it. I press a kiss to his sternum and run my hands up and down his back. “What do you need from me?”
“I’m not ready to skate again yet,” Nicky says, pain and hopelessness bleeding into his words. “Iwantto be, but I’m not. I need to spend more time with Adam, working on identifying what triggered me and how to manage it. There isn’t anything about that you can take on or carry for me.”
“I can try.” I ease us apart. I learned something about myself today, too. I don’t want to continue working with the team. I want to be home with this family—my family. Only, I know I can’t say that right now. Nicky needs to focus on healing the pieces of himself that are not fixable in the gym, and I want to do whatever I can to help him without adding another stressor to the mix. I have faith that the right time to figure out my work situation will come. Because I can still be supportive of him from the office and get my time with Nat every day.
“You don’t have to try,solnyshka, you already are.” He nods toward the living room, and I follow his gaze.
“She seems to be fine,” I say. Nicky shifts us—and the topic—until we’re both leaning against the island. “Didn’t complain about anything on the way home. Just quiet and cuddly. I can’t figure out how she got sick. She doesn’t have any other symptoms.”
“Kids puke sometimes,” he says with a shrug. My brow pinches, and I cross my arms, staring into the house as though an answer will materialize. Nicky’s low chuckle breaks my imagination, and he bumps my shoulder with his. “It doesn’t always make sense, but she’s eating and doesn’t have any other symptoms. She’ll be just fine.”
“I don’t like it when she’s hurting.” I sigh. “I couldn’t get out of the office fast enough.”
Nicky tucks me against him, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.
“She called me Mommy.”
My voice catches in my throat, the emotion of that admission unbalancing me in all of the best ways, but I brace for Nicky’s reaction. He’s raised her by himself, teaching her to accept families in every form and never lying to her about the shape of her own. I haven’t intentionally tried to fill that role, but caringfor Nat has come as easily as breathing, and my love for her runs almost as deeply as it does for the man next to me.
“Did she?” Nicky keeps me next to him, and I resist looking up at him.
“I heard her through the phone in the nurse’s office,” I confirm. Nicky hums.
“Is that okay with you?” he asks. I do look up at him then, confused. “If she started calling you that?”
Nicky is smiling. The special smile that’s mine, but somehow also the one he gives Natalia. Warmth, belonging, and everything I’ve chased my whole life bloom inside of me.
“I would be honored.”
“Good.” He kisses my forehead, dropping his arm to thread his fingers through mine. “We’re going to all be okay.Together, we’re going to be okay.”
CHAPTER 26
NICKY
Iwatch The Midnight’s season end from my couch. The boys win, but there’s no real celebration. The postseason isn’t happening, and from the looks on a lot of the guys’ faces, they’re not sad to be calling it an early summer in mid-April. There’s a twinge of guilt inside me that the toll of this season has been so great. But I also know, some years, hockey just doesn’t go the way you want it to.
“Violet’s already sending an itinerary for the trip.” Bea laughs from beside me, scrolling through her phone. “I think everyone needs it.”
Following my panic attack last month, I’ve been in sessions with Adam twice a week. It’s been a difficult, challenging experience to face my trauma and work through managing my triggers. Harder than any time I’ve put in at the gym. But the effort paid off: I visited the team facility yesterday to watch practice from the stands. It was exposure therapy in a controlled, safe environment with Robbie sitting next to me. Idon’t feel any more ready to skate, but it makes embracing the possibility more real.
To celebrate my progress and the end of the season, Gus suggested our group take a vacation together. Crosby offered up his dad’s cabin in Maine, and Violet started planning immediately. I switch off the television and give the woman next to me my undivided attention. Her eyes flit over the screen before her fingers follow; the rapid pace of communication between her and her best friend is always a fascinating sight.
“Apparently, Crosby’s been holding out on everyone.” Bea gasps, flipping her phone around to show me pictures of a beautiful cabin. “I was expecting something more…worn. Maybe with air mattresses or bunk beds to accommodate everyone. But this place is gorgeous!”
I swipe through the photos, my jaw dropping more with each new picture. The post-and-beam home with green trim against stained timber has an artistic boulder foundation that wraps around the drive-out garage and basement. Large picture windows dominate the main floor, looking out on an expanse of lakefront shoreline and a mix of evergreens and leafy maples. There are pictures of the open-concept living space with pops of navy blue and gray in an otherwise soothing and inviting pine-and-white color palette. A massive, floor-to-ceiling fireplace takes up the wall opposite the windows, with three soft and cozy couches facing it.
