Thx Sadie. Please text no matter the time.
I won’t mind being woken up by you…even if it’s only to talk about Eli.
Also, is ‘pukey’ an official medical term? ;)
“Why you smiling at your phone like it’s a Victoria’s Secret angel?”
I look up at Hunter and decide to share because he’s been bugging me lately that I need to “get back out there” when it comes to women. “Because she’s hotter than those angels. And kind of a real one. She’s a nurse.”
“Say what now?” Hunter looks intrigued and excited. “You take your goalie to the hospital and pick up a hot nurse? I like your style, big bro. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Neither did I anymore,” I admit sheepishly and walk around the counter to head to the living area. He follows, like a puppy in search of a treat. If he had a tail it would be wagging. “I didn’t exactly pick her up. But I am flirting, and she seems to be flirting back.”
As if to prove my point, my text alert goes off again. I look down and read the message twice. It’s that good.
Pukey is totally a medical term.
Learned it in college along with icky and oogy.
Look forward to waking you up in a few hours with an update…sorry not sorry.
Okay now I’m just plain grinning. Hunter is too. “Okay, flirty you is freaking me out. It’s so abnormal, you look almost…happy.”
“Shut up. I haven’t been that bad,” I mutter and shove my phone in my pants pocket as I shrug out of my suit jacket.
He laughs. “You totally have. But I get it. It’s been a rough couple of years.”
“It has.” Lauren and I have been divorced for two years, but to be honest it’s been rough since before the divorce. The year before we both admitted the marriage wasn’t working was pretty bad too. “But maybe things are changing. I mean…”
I pause. Hunter’s face instantly morphs into an expression of support. People never believe we’re brothers because we look really different. I have more of my mom’s Italian genes, and he has more of my dad’s Irish ones. My hair and eyes are dark and my skin is olive where Hunter’s is very pale. He has light hazel eyes and, when he had hair, it was red. He started going bald early so he just shaves his head now. He’s shorter, five foot ten compared to my six four. Our personalities are different too. I’m less goofy than he is, and he hates sports, which I love. But he gets me like no one else, so I’m not surprised when he knows why I’m hesitating.
“You want to ask her out?” he says, and I nod.
“I’m thinking about it. But is it appropriate?” I have to ask. “I mean not only is she my goalie’s nurse, she is also his girlfriend’s sister and related to a player on the team.”
Hunter looks shocked by that revelation, but it doesn’t faze him long. “I doubt it’s breaking any ethics code if you ask her out. Besides you’re the goalie coach, not like a real coach. No one cares what you do.” He shrugs.
I slowly raise my middle finger at him. He smiles back.
“She doesn’t work for the team, and you’re not her patient. But you’re four months into the season, and she’s probably been at games to see her brother play. Honestly, it sounds like you should have run into her a hell of a lot sooner.”
“I wish I had,” I respond.
He laughs and rubs his hands together like some kind of evil genius in the middle of plotting something. “Oh…I like this. I like this a lot. You are finally back in the land of the living.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes and give his shoulder a shove. “I need to go check on Charlie. You should head home to that lovely wife of yours.”
“Maybe one day I can say that to you,” he replies as he grabs his jacket off the hook by the front door. “I mean I have never been able to say it to you because when you were married to that witch Lauren I didn’t actually want to send you home to her.”
I chuckle. “Shut up. Say hi to Mia.”
He nods and heads out the door. I lock up, shut off all the lights on the main floor, and head upstairs. The houseboat isn’t big, but I love it. I’ve always loved the water—any water. I grew up on a lake in Minnesota. In the summer I would water-ski and fish, and in the winter I would play hockey. We took annual trips to North Carolina, where my maternal grandparents lived. My parents would spend every day golfing, but I spent every day at the ocean body surfing and skim boarding.
Lauren worries constantly my houseboat puts Charlie at risk of being in a tsunami. She grew up in Redondo Beach near LA but hates the ocean. It’s so ridiculous. The only reason she lives in the area is because when we divorced she wanted to be near her parents. Now, she lives high up the hill in Marin, as far from the ocean as she can get.
I roll my eyes just thinking about it as I climb the metal-and-wood staircase to the second floor. I turn left and peek into Charlie’s room. The space is a wash of orange, red, blue, and green color from her night light on her wooden night table, which is a globe etched with multicolored dinosaurs carved in the shape of a T. rex. She’s on her left side, legs tucked up and arms tugging the covers up over most of her face. All I can see is her forehead and her mop of wavy copper hair. It’s a sign she wasn’t totally over her nightmare when she fell back asleep. A hard knot of guilt forms in my gut. I wish I could be here for her every minute of the day and night. I honestly do, but I know that’s not healthy. And I’m not away a lot. I’ve denied myself any form of a life outside work and Charlie, because I don’t want to take away from the time I do have with her. I don’t regret it, but I didn’t realize how lonely I am until tonight. Until Sadie.
I take a step into the room, but my text alert dings and I freeze. Charlie doesn’t move, thankfully. I step back into the hall, pull my phone out of my suit pants pocket and bite back a smile at her number on my screen. I check the text.
