“Can’t you get one of your family to be his guardian?” Crew asks, concern still furrowing his brow. “I mean, if she’s also your bed buddy then that makes this more complicated, Tate. I’m not trying to rain on your parade. Just speaking the truth.”
"No one in my family knows about him," I admit and Crew looks downright flummoxed again. "Well, Tenley just found out. And I think we can both agree she's not an ideal guardian candidate."
“Why haven’t you told your parents? Or one of your cousins? Someone?” Crew asks. “I have a really small family, and you know my dad…”
“The patron saint of hockey,” I interject because he always calls his dad that, and he’s not wrong. Avery Westwood was the poster child for the sport his entire career.
"Yeah, the patron saint of hockey would lose his mind if I knocked a girl up out of wedlock. He shit a brick when I divorced, because star players don't do that," Crew smiles bitterly then shakes it off. "But in the end, he'd be there for me. He'd support me and I know your parents would be the same. Come on, with that enormous family of yours, someone would be able to fly down here and help."
“I don’t want their help,” I admit what I haven’t said out loud to anyone yet. “I’m the Golden Child, according to Tenley. I’m perfect.”
“And humble.” Crew rolls his eyes.
“Shut up, I’m telling you what they say, not what I believe,” I grumble and pause to sip my beer. “They all also love to say that the way I stay golden is I avoid all responsibility and commitment like it’s the plague. And they aren’t wrong.”
Crew thinks about my words and gives me a small nod. “You don’t date seriously, you lease your car, you could challenge me and Nash the Quake captaincy, but you didn’t even try. Yeah, I can see why that’s what they think. Do you even own this place?”
I stare up at the townhouse. ”Yeah but only because there are no rentals in this building. But I… I bought it in Tenley’s name. I wanted her to have it in case I got traded or whatever. Just easier.”
“Easier if you aren’t attached or committed to anything.” Crew smiles. “Jesus you are a textbook commitment-phobe. And now you’re a daddy. Biggest commitment in the world.”
It feels so surreal to hear someone else say it. But also, there’s this flicker of pride in my chest that beats anything I’ve ever felt before. I nod. “Yeah. I’m a dad and it’s not a commitment I want to shrug off. And it feels like, if I ask them all for help, it would be like shrugging it off. Or give them and everyone else an excuse to say Tate Garrison couldn’t handle it on his own.”
"Fatherhood is not a house plant or a puppy, Garrison," Crew warns. "Not many people can handle it on their own and I'm not sure they should if they can help it. So if I were you, I would reach out sooner rather than later. Also, eventually, you're going to have to tell Coach and the media team, because this will get out and you donotwant to blindside them.”
“I know,” I say almost too sharply. I hate being reminded of what I’ve been ignoring. I look up at the cloudless blue sky. Dylan makes another happy gurgling sound at my feet and I glance down and see him bouncing and clapping his pudgy hands. “I just wanted to get through the regular season and then I was going to tell them in the week before we start playoffs. Because I want Dylan and Mallory to be able to come to playoffs, especially if we win.”
“Yeah.” Crew smiles and tips his beer bottle toward me. “You meanwhenwe win.”
I grin. “Yeah.When.”
We clink bottles and both down what’s left in them. He plops his on the outdoor table and leans down toward Dylan. “So little dude, you gonna be a hockey player like your pops? Pretty sure it’s in your DNA.”
Dylan claps and grins and then lets out a happy squeal. I am smiling so broadly my cheeks ache. Shit. I love this kid. Even if he’s still not sure how he feels about me. I fucking love him. “He’ll get a pair of skates soon. But if he doesn’t like it, so be it. Personally, hockey was all I ever wanted but my parents always made it clear it wasn’t expected and I intend to do the same.”
“Yeah, my parents were the same but I remember watching my dad in his last few seasons and thinking Ihaveto do that,” Crew replies with a soft smile. “It looks like the best thing in the world.”
“Yeah,” I agree and then my eyes fall to Dylan. I honestly don’t care if he plays or not. I just hope that by the time he’s old enough to pick a profession he likes me at least half as much as I like him.
Crew stands up and I stand too. We give each other a quick bro-hug. “So I was serious. I want you to take my place. I’ll even line up the movers for both of us. We have two home games coming up so how about we move Friday? And we can have Saturday to settle into our new places before our next game on Sunday.”
“If you’re serious, that would be amazing.”
"I have wanted out of the place since Anne-Marie left me," Crew says flatly as he shoves his hands into his pockets. I'm shocked he uttered her name. He hasn't mentioned his ex by her actual name since the day he was served divorce papers at the arena last year. "She picked the place, not me."
"Okay well, it would work great for us until I can sort something else out in the off-season," I admit, and feel like one of the many heavyweights has been lifted from my shoulders. "Thanks, Crew.”
“No worries.” He gives me a crooked smile. “And before you bother to say it, I swear I won’t tell anyone. Not even Nash.”
“Thanks,” I sigh. “I’ll clear this up and be honest about it as soon as I can.”
“I still say you should tell your folks or a cousin or something.”
“Eventually,” I promise.
I grab Dylan out of his jumper and he miraculously doesn’t cry. Although he is still staring at me uncertainly. We go back into the house and we're greeted with a delicious smell coming from the stove where Mallory is standing. Crew declines her invitation to join us, says goodbye, and heads out.
Dylan starts squirming and lets out a frustrated grunt as he reaches for Mallory. “Just put him in the living room with his toys. Maybe play with him a bit while I finish dinner.”
