Hockey Christmas (A Holiday Sports Romance Love Story)

by Naomi Niles

  I knew that she was happy the way things had been before–on the odd occasion that we discussed my father, she always said as much–but if anyone deserved the biggest, whitest wedding, it was her, and it was up to me to ensure that her detailed vision came to life. Okay, Victoria was there, too, but this was her job, not her family. I just didn’t feel like she had the same amount of dedication as I did.

  Sure, I wasn't one hundred percent convinced that this wedding was the smartest move for my mom, but that was an opinion that I was solely keeping to myself these days. It was too far gone, anyway–everything was organized. She wanted it, Brad wanted it, and I would just have to accept that although they had only been together a short while, that they just knew and that everything would be okay. I had to trust in their decisions, to let them do what was right for them.

  As I stared up at the extremely tall Victoria, drinking in her perfect appearance once more, I wondered if she ever looked anything other than immaculate. I’d never seen her without every hair in place and makeup applied to perfection. This wasn't the sort of woman I could imagine slopping about in sweatpants with a messy bun in her hair, even during her spare time.

  Maybe I should believe that she had that kind of obsessive compulsiveness when it came to her job. It was her business, after all, and she came very highly recommended.

  I just struggled to let go...

  “Yes,” she insisted firmly, sending me what I was certain she thought was a reassuring smile. It did nothing to curb my panic. “Everything has been ticked off your mom and Brad’s list, I’ve checked and rechecked all of the bookings, and there is no longer anything to worry about. Everything is ready–there is nothing else you can do.” She held my shoulders, and stared deeply into my eyes. “So will you just calm down already?”

  I let out a deep breath, trying to act like I was listening to her, but the tight hot knot of panic was still there, dragging all of my insides into it. She could say anything she wanted to, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop worrying until the day was done and everything had gone perfectly.

  Only a week left; how the hell was I going to survive?

  Suddenly, another thought struck me. “Did you remember to add in a seat for Brad’s son at the meal?” This was a new addition to the plans. Apparently Brad’s son, whom he hadn’t seen for years–my mom hadn’t met him at any rate–was coming to the wedding. I had high doubts that he would turn up, but I didn’t want him to be chair-less on the off chance that he did come. I figured that it was better to have too many place mats set up, than not enough.

  Who the hell would want to come and see their estranged father get married? Brad only seemed to have one picture of his son that sat on the mantelpiece: a twelve-year-old boy with long, stringy hair hanging in his face. It was clear they’d never been close. I asked Mom once where this kid was, but she didn’t know. In fact, she went very quiet about the whole thing, but when she learned he intended to come to the wedding, she went over the top in her desire to ensure he had a good time.

  I had no intention of going out of my way to make him feel welcome, but that wasn't the point. I was only going to see him for a few hours on the day of the wedding. I would probably only get the opportunity to say hello, so it wasn't exactly at the top of my list of priorities.

  “Yes, Danica, all is sorted. Now, you just relax and leave the rest to me.” She shot me a look, knowing that I was going to find letting go of the control difficult, but for the first time since I returned from Camp Woodtree, I no longer wanted that power. I needed a rest, a break from it all, so I nodded gratefully. My body was screaming at me to chill out for a while, and I actually felt inclined to agree.

  “Okay, thanks, Victoria,” I smiled kindly at her, feeling utterly grateful for her presence. In that moment, she felt like a godsend. “You’re a star.”

  And with that, I raced up the stairs and into my bedroom, glad for a few moments of sanctuary. I was absolutely exhausted and hoped that my meeting with Victoria would at least buy me an hour of peace because I could really use a nap. All the sleepless nights were finally catching up with me.

  As I lay on the cool sheets of my bed, slowly feeling my eyes slipping into slumber, I thought back to Rhett once more. I’d thought about him every single day since we’d parted, but I’d been working constantly all day and night to help plan this wedding, which unfortunately meant that my end of the communication had slid. I kept meaning to return every call and reply to every message, but every day I got too busy to even know where the hell I was.

  Originally, I’d hoped to invite Rhett to the wedding with me to help make the day pass in a much quicker and happier way, but now that felt too weird. It would be too out of the blue and probably too short notice for him. A week away just wasn't long enough for him to plan his journey down. Plus, I had no idea how I’d take it if he refused. Even the thought of that filled me with an intense dread.

  I realized sadly that I would have to face the day alone.

  ***

  The next thing I knew, I was back at Camp Woodtree, feeling the same relaxed sensation that my time there had given me. Afterwards had been nothing but stress, so it felt nice to be able to chill out and to look over the lake under the moonlight.

  Arms snuck around my waist from behind me, and a pair of lips found their way to my neck. I lolled my head to one side as desire coursed through me with his kiss. All the lost time was gone, and we were back to being just us once more.

  “Rhett,” I murmured as he made me feel special all over again. No one had ever made me feel the way he did, and it was a sensation that I’d sorely missed since we’d been apart. “You feel amazing.”

  With that, he spun me around to face him, and I stared deep into his eyes. “You are amazing,” he replied. “And, I miss you.”

  All the guilt that I felt for allowing so much time to slide crept up on me again and I hung my head in shame. I was an idiot for even risking such an amazing guy. I just prayed that he hadn’t met someone else...

  But then his lips were back on mine, completely eradicating all of my fears. As his hands explored me, I fell backwards until my back hit something solid–the wall of my cabin–and eventually we found ourselves inside once more.

  I glanced around, the memory of our last time together flooding back through me. So much had happened here, it felt like a monumental place, but I couldn't really appreciate that because the next time I looked at Rhett, he was completely naked.

  And so was I.

  “Come here,” he growled, encouraging me to step closer to him. As he wrapped me up in his arms, he pinned me against the wall where we ended up making frantic love as if it was going to be the last time we ever saw one another. I felt right and whole all over again.

  I never wanted this moment to end...

  ***

  I jumped awake with a start, still feeling dreadfully ill. I thought the terrible side effects of stress from all of this wedding planning might have subsided as I napped, but nope. I still felt dizzy, headachy, and more than a little sick. It was like a hangover I couldn't shake, no matter how hard I tried.

  For a few moments, the nausea swirled so violently around in my stomach that I feared I might actually be sick. I sat up abruptly in my bed and grabbed the drink I always kept on my cabinet to try and make the sensation slide. As the cool liquid made its way down my throat, my pulse rate slowed slightly, but that was all it did to help. I had a few moments of deciding whether or not I needed to rush to the toilet to be sick before my body began to return to normal.

  Then something very strange and unexpected happened, right out of the blue.

  I burst into inexplicable tears.

  As the emotion flooded through me and my face became wet with it, I quickly tried to pull myself together before the weeping became sobs. But I couldn't seem to calm down, no matter what I did. It’s just stress, I told myself, it’s only a few more days until all of this will be over and life can return to normal. But som
ehow, I wasn't totally convinced that was the only reason I was sad.

  I’d been dreaming about Camp Woodtree, and Rhett, and as I’d come back into consciousness and realized none of it was real, it hit me that I’d probably wrecked things forever. Guys didn’t hang around for girls that didn’t show interest, and due to my distraction, I’d been playing it far too cool. Who knew, he may have even moved on by now.

  The thought of Rhett with his arms around another girl, his lips on hers, giving her the same affection that he’d given me filled me with another wave of sadness and a fresh set of tears burst from my eyes. I didn’t want to accept that our summer fling was over, that the future that I’d been imagining would remain only a fantasy, but maybe it was time to do just that. To focus on what was real. On what I knew for certain, much as it hurt to do so.

  There was no point in getting too upset over what ifs and what might have been.

  However, the tears didn’t stop coming until my mother called me down to have something to eat, over an hour later. And the sadness didn’t subside even then.

  Chapter 10

  Rhett

  ‘Mom’

  I stared at the name that was flashing up on my phone’s screen for a few moments, just knowing that a phone call from her was not going to be good. I’d been staying at James’s for a while, trying to avoid everyone while my dad continually tried to talk to me, but I knew that I couldn't hide forever and I was going to have to face reality eventually. However much I didn’t like it.

  I knew why she would be calling, and that made me even less inclined to pick up.

  Dad and Mom might have been split up for a very long time, but she’d never tried to keep me away from him. In fact, she actively encouraged us to have contact, to form some kind of relationship because she was a great believer in the influence of both parents. It was because of his shitty inability to stick to plans, and eventually my decision not to bother with him, that we didn’t speak anymore. Mom knew why, and although she respected my decision, she certainly didn’t like it.

  I just knew that if Dad had told her I was ignoring him, she would let me have it for sure. She wouldn’t like me being rude because she would see that as a poor reflection on her. She was a very moral and just woman, which had its benefits, but it also had its awful downfalls. And when it came to my dad, that was the worst one.

  I took a deep breath, preparing for the worst before answering. I wouldn’t ignore the one parent who had always been there for me, no matter what happened, no matter how little I wanted to hear her opinion on the subject.

  “Hi, Mom,” I started, but of course, she wasn't going to let me get a word in edgewise. She was mad, which meant a rant was coming and I wouldn’t be able to stop it no matter what I did–a lesson I’d learned the hard way during my rebellious teenage years.

  “Don’t you ‘hi, Mom me.” Yep, there was definitely a whole lot of anger there. “Where have you been? What have you been doing?” I knew she was just doing this to be dramatic. She knew for a fact that I was pretty much always at James’s if not at home, and she had no reason for concern–at twenty-two, I was perfectly old enough to come and go as I pleased.

  “I’ve been at James’s-” I began, hoping that she was actually going to let me speak before she got to the point, but deep down I knew that I was unlikely, and I was about to be proven right.

  “Your dad has been trying to call you with some very important news, and I really think that you need to speak to him.”

  I’d never understood how she was always so calm about him when he’d spent his life being such a jerk. He abandoned us, left us in debt, and lived a care-free lifestyle, while we faced difficulties every day. He’d also upset me every single time I saw him, and I wasn't willing to forgive that.

  On top of that, I’d always assumed that he’d been cheating on Mom when they’d been together, and on every woman since, but of course that wasn't something I could prove, and Mom certainly had no intention of telling me. She wouldn’t say anything to taint my opinion of him, so I never truly got to the root of her real feelings. I could only assume what she thought.

  “Mom, I don't want to speak to him,” I said, trying to sound as calm and rational as possible. “He’s a dick, and you know it.” Might as well be honest here–I couldn't see any point in beating around the bush. I needed her to see how serious I was.

  “I know, but he’s still your dad. I might not have any love for the man, but he’s your blood. You might call yourself Rhett Jones now, but you’re a Fronton, and you always will be. Calling yourself a different name doesn’t change who your family is.”

  I hated it when she reminded me of that.

  “You need to put the past behind you. He might even be calling to reconcile with you, to make up for all the crappy things that he’s done. You’ll never know if you don't give him the chance.”

  This made me mad, but I attempted to keep it under control as much as I possibly could. “How do you make up for not being around since I was two, except to pop in now and again to stir everything up?” I’d always tried to hide the damage that Dad had done to me from Mom because I never wanted her to feel guilty for anything, and I only brought it up a little now to drive my point home.

  “He’s a horrible man who doesn’t deserve even a second of my time. Why now? Why has it always got to be on his terms? Why hasn’t he ever seen me on the millions of occasions that I needed him?” Everything was tumbling out of my mouth now, and it was becoming difficult to stop it.

  “Rhett,” Mom spoke in a calm and considered tone of voice. “I fell out with my dad for years over something very silly. We didn’t speak for the latter part of his life, and I didn’t feel bad about that until he died. I was so obsessed with my personal sense of justice that nothing else mattered. I knew that I was right, and that was all I cared about.”

  My heart began to thump. I’d never heard my mom talk about my grandpa, who died before I was born.

  “He went suddenly, died of an unexpected heart attack, so I had no chance to say goodbye, and that didn’t hit me until the funeral. I don't want you to have the same guilt that I do. Your dad won’t be around forever, and this might be your one and only chance to reconcile with him–and that’s an opportunity I would kill for.”

  My heartrate increased and my mouth ran dry as I considered this. Somehow, my mom might have landed the home run, she might have just convinced me to do what I really didn’t want to. Maybe, just maybe, she was right.

  And, I hated her for that.

  “Okay,” I sighed resignedly. “I’ll call him at some point today.”

  “Not some point. Now,” she said firmly, knowing me far too well. “And, you’ll come home tonight. I miss you.”

  “Love you, Mom.” I accepted her terms, suddenly wanting to see her face again, too.

  “Love you, too.”

  I stuffed my phone into my pocket, having no intention of doing anything right away. I needed some time to think first, to get my emotions in check, so I grabbed hold of one of James’s surfboards before heading out onto the ocean. There was nothing better than being in the waves for clearing my head and allowing me to make the right choice for me.

  ***

  It wasn't until the very next morning as I headed to work that I finally took the plunge and made the call. I went home to Mom’s far too late for a grilling, so luckily, I hadn’t been forced to lie to her, and now I could discuss the conversation without specifying the time it actually happened. I’d decided on the morning to call because I knew it would restrict me. I wouldn’t be able to talk for too long before my shift started, which was perfect. I didn’t have enough to say for a long, in-depth chat.

  Ring, ring.

  I felt more anxious than I should as the phone rang loudly and intrusively in my ear. My heart raced, and I felt my steps increase, as if I wanted to arrive long before my shift began. I was expecting the worst, or at the very least an argument for not returning his calls earlier,
but what I got was the complete opposite.

  “Hi, son,” Dad said warmly, throwing me a bit. “How are you?”

  “Erm...okay,” I replied, too confused to think of a witty reply. “And...and you?” His attitude towards me was very unnerving, and I didn’t know how he expected me to take it. I was used to the abrasive, rash version of him, not this. It was too weird for words.

  “I’m very well.” There was an edge to his voice, one that would be explained in his next few words. “In fact, I’ve been trying to call you to let you know that I’m getting married.”

  My heart sunk at his words. Despite everything, it hurt that he was willing to take on another family, but not his own. He’d abandoned me, missing my childhood, and now he was going to have another chance. He could be a dad again, whereas I would never get another parent. Chances were he would even go on to have more kids–depending on how young his wife was–which would leave me...

  Well, I didn’t know where. Worse off than before, at any rate. If he ignored me before, only dipping in and out when it suited, then what would stop him from cutting me off completely when he had another child?

  I tried to harden up, to really not care in the way that I hadn’t for the past few years, but it was challenging. There was a large lump of emotion in my throat that I couldn't seem to swallow, no matter how hard I tried.

  “Congratulations,” my tone was strained, but he managed to totally brush over that, in typical dad fashion. He ignored anything that didn’t quite suit his latest whim.

  “And, we would love for you to come. If you like?” Then his tone changed, as if another idea had hit him. “In fact, why don't you come and stay with us for a while before? Get to know Lyla–my fiancée–and her daughter.”

  Great, another kid already. Another man’s child that he would love more than his own.