“Hey, Ma,” I said when she answered. “I’ve missed you.”
Hannah reached for my cell phone and said, “Lo, lo,” while I tugged off her nappy and wiped her down.
I grinned at her and said, “That’s my mummy, sweet pea.”
“Who’s this? Oh wait, my prodigal son? The one who I’ve officially disowned because he’s a right shit who’s a smart arse to his mother? The same mother who birthed him and raised him and bought every bloody guitar out there?” I could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke. “How are you, Spence?”
“I’m good, Ma. How’s everyone there?”
“We’re good. Your dad bought a new lawnmower. He’s been out the back all day, tinkering with it.”
“Why’s he tinkering if it’s new?”
“Oh, come on, you know your dad. It’s new to him. To everyone else it’s a twenty-year-old pile of rust.” She sighed dramatically and added, “But he’s decided it’s a classic and worth lovingly restoring.” Her voice was filled with sarcasm. She may think he was ridiculous, but she would be the first person to send photos of the restored mower with a “look what your dad did!” caption.
Hannah giggled, and I laughed and responded, “Some things never change.”
“They don’t. Now, who is this sweet two-year-old that I can hear, and why is feeding them an emergency?”
“Hannah is our girlfriend’s daughter,” I said, pausing for a second and weighing up that word. Girlfriend. I liked it. I had no idea whether Keeley thought of herself that way too, but it’s what Bray and I wanted. Hell, we wanted more than that, but for now an exclusive boyfriends-and-girlfriend situation would do nicely.
“Keels stayed the night, and she and Bray are still crashed out. Bray got a concussion in last night’s game, so we were up and down last night, checking on him. Hannah just woke up and asked me for biscuits. They’re like scones, but they eat them with this gross sausage gravy here. I don’t have ingredients for biscuits, I don’t like the gravy, and I have no idea where to order them from, so I’m making scones. They’re close enough. Kind of.” I had to hand it to Mum for staying quiet until I’d finished. I knew she’d be brimming with questions after my monologue.
“Okay, that isn’t at all what I was expecting you to say. Is Brayden okay?”
“Bay-den,” Hannah added.
“Yeah, sweet pea. Brayden.”
I nodded, then realized Mum couldn’t see me. “Bray’ll be off the ice for a week or so, no screen time, and nothing too stressful until the headaches subside. But he’s okay.”
“And what’s your girlfriend’s name? Keel, did you say?”
“Keeley. She’s the PR rep at the Seals. She’s pretty incredible, Ma.” My cheeks heated, and I grinned just thinking about her. The way she held Bray last night and was constantly checking on him was something else. So was the way she took charge and cared for me when I needed her.
“She sounds it if she’s got both of your attention.” Mum paused, and I knew there were more questions coming. But she didn’t ask what I expected her to. “And how’s the search for your house going?”
“We’ve found a place. We can’t sign anything until Bray’s cleared, but I’m calling the agent today to tell them we want it. I’ll put a deposit down to hold it. There’s enough room for you guys to come and stay too.”
“That’s the most important thing, of course,” Ma teased. “Hon, this is gonna cost you a fortune, and you’ve got a hungry two-year-old to feed. Can we video chat soon?”
“As soon as Bray’s cleared,” I promised.
“Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you both, too, Ma.” We hung up, and I redressed Hannah before I gestured to the kitchen. “You wanna help me cook biscuits, sweet pea?”
“Yas!” She jumped up and pumped her arms like she’d won a championship, and I chuckled at her antics.
I got out two bowls and measured out the flour, butter, and milk for me. Then added some flour and milk to a bowl for Hannah. She sat down on the floor, and I gave her the bowl. “Get your hands in that and squish it together like this.” I showed her how to do it, and she grinned like the devil. She was going to make a mess, but if she was happy, I honestly didn’t care.
“Sweet pea, these biscuits are gonna be a little different to how your mum makes them. But they’ll be yummy. I guarantee it.”
I whipped up a batch of scones, slid them into the tiny countertop oven that came with the apartment, and Hannah banged the stainless-steel bowl on the tiled floor, the sound echoing around the quiet hotel suite. A second later Keeley dashed out of the bedroom, pulling on Bray’s T-shirt as she went. It only just covered her generous curves, and I took a moment to admire her.
She pressed her hand to her chest and exhaled heavily. “You scared me, sweet girl.” Then she catalogued the mess Hannah had made—flour and patches of the sticky mix on the tiles, cupboards and in her hair—and she groaned. “Oh, Hannah, we’ve got some cleaning to do.”
“No, you don’t,” I interrupted, stopping her from scooping Hannah up. “Hannah and I have been baking. Sorry we woke you.” I wrapped Keeley in my arms and kissed her hair, then murmured, “I’ll clean this up, including Hannah. You go back to bed. You were up all night.”
