by Freya Barker
“So what are the chances of you flying to Miami with me, first thing tomorrow morning?” He gets to the point.
“Depends,” I tell him. “What’s in Miami?”
“Curt Forbes resigned on Friday, listing family reasons. It’ll be announced on Wednesday.”
“Assistant coach for the Panthers? No shit?” A little twitch of excitement has me shift in my chair. “They looking?”
“Management called me Saturday morning, when I was driving up there. They’re looking alright. Wanted to know if you were in the market.”
“How’d they know? I mean, I’ve only just received the final verdict on my career,” I grumble, saying that out loud still smarts.
“That’s why you pay me the big bucks. Been putting discrete feelers out here and there, just in case,” he says, sounding smug. “They’ve got you on the short list and are looking to get the lay of the land from all their options before the announcement on Wednesday.”
“What do you think?” I ask him, trusting his advice above anyone else’s. He’s been my agent for the past ten years or so, give or take, and has never steered me wrong.
“I think you should drive down tonight, crash at mine, and get on the 4:30 a.m. flight to Miami with me tomorrow. We’ll see what plays out. Look,” he adds. “Like I’ve said before, the only good decision is an informed one. I know your circumstances have changed with Jordy and the baby, and Miami would not be your first choice, but if anything, a meeting like this might be educational.”
“About Jordy, she’s hit a bit of a rough spot, health wise,” I inform him. “I’m gonna have to see what I can do to have her covered while I’m gone.”
“I’m sure Sandy would love nothing better than to get her hands on that baby,” he offers his wife’s services, making me chuckle.
“I’m sure, but I may be able to organize something locally. Mia, my neighbour, has been helping out a lot. Let me check with her first.”
“Sounds good. I’ll book the flight, you talk to...Mia?” he confirms, but I can hear the curiosity in his tone.
“Later,” I cut him off, knowing he’ll grill me later anyway. I can still hear him chuckle as I end the call.
Christ.
The Panthers—I’m not sure how I feel about Miami. Actually, that’s not true, Miami is probably the last place I’d want to settle, but damn it feels good to be wanted anywhere.
I take a few minutes to try and settle the churning in my stomach, before I go find the girls. By the time I walk into her bedroom, Jordy is curled up on her side, fast asleep. The soft mumble of Mia’s voice comes from the monitor on her bedside table, and I turn toward the nursery.
“Hey,” I inadvertently repeat the last word I said to her. She’s bent over Ole’s crib, her head turned to watch me come up behind her.
“He just settled down,” she says, as I peek over her shoulder to find my nephew sleeping with his mouth open.
“Looks like he’s out for the count,” I observe, taking a step back when she straightens up.
I follow her out of the nursery and into the living room, where she stops in front of the sliding doors, staring at her own place.
“I should get home.”
“Stay,” I whisper, brushing my hand along the side of her neck and down her shoulder. I’m close enough to feel the warmth of her body against my front. Ignoring the slight stiffening of her spine, I lean my chin on her shoulder. “Stay and talk to me.” A shudder runs down her body before she turns around to face me, putting one hand in the middle of my chest. I immediately cover it with mine.
“I don’t know if I can.” Her voice is soft and torn.
“Try.”
Taking her hand, I lead her to the couch and with a gentle tug, pull her down beside me, never letting go.
“I was remembering my parents.” Her eyes are focused on our hands, where my thumb softly strokes her skin. Her words, suggesting she no longer has them, slice me. Noticing she’s gone silent, perhaps struggling with her emotions, I decide to share as well.
“Our parents died in a traffic accident,” I start, feeling her hand twitch in mine. “They were driving down to see friends in Rochester, when they were sideswiped by a tractor-trailer.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, briefly lifting her eyes brimming with tears. “Mom died of a massive stroke and Dad was gone eight months later,” she explains. I tuck a stray curl behind her ear and almost imperceptibly she leans her head into my touch.
“You miss them,” I conclude and she nods.
“Every day.”
“The other day I was thinking...” I lean back in the couch, bringing her with me so she’s resting again my chest. “Other than the initial shock of not having them around, I never felt their loss quite as sharply as I do now. They would’ve doted on Ole.”
“Be hard not to,” she mumbles, her fingers toying with the buttons on my shirt. “He’s adorable.”
I want to ask her more. Want to know what happened to her, why she’s practically shut herself off from the world, but I figure it’s been emotional enough for today. I sit like that for a while, my arms keeping her anchored, each lost in our own memories, but with the comfort of the other’s touch. I could stay like that all day, but eventually the need to get my life sorted takes over my thoughts.
“I have a favour to ask.” Her head comes up and she looks at me questioningly. “I talked to my agent this morning; I need to head into town tonight. We have to fly to Miami tomorrow morning for a meeting. I was hoping you might be able to stay here...with Jordy, while I’m gone.” I watch the surprise on her face and quickly add, “I wouldn’t ask, or even go, if it wasn’t important.”
“Okay,” she agrees easily, before tilting her head to one side. “You have an agent? I mean...Steffie mentioned you used to be a hockey player...” she mutters, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were.” I bark out a laugh.
“I’m sorry,” I immediately apologize when I see her wince, cupping her face in my hands. “I actually love that you don’t. I’ll admit, I’m so used to it, I kind of assume everybody does. It’s refreshing,” I reassure her with a smile, before setting her back and pulling the leg of my shorts up, to show her the surgical scars on my knee. “My career officially ended a few weeks ago when I found out my knee won’t hold up. Brian, that’s my agent, is helping me figure out what to do next.”
“That’s why you’re going to Miami?” She wants to know.
“Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “I don’t want to leave, especially with Jordy not one-hundred-percent, but I feel better about it with you here. I can tell you more about Miami when I get back.”
“It’s not a hardship,” she smiles. “I’m happy to stay.”
“Good,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Because it won’t be a hardship for me to come home to you.” I watch her face flush, thinking how true that statement is.
Coming home to Mia in my house will not be a hardship at all.
However, it does make Miami even less attractive.
FOURTEEN
Mia
“I’m just gonna run to over and grab that lasagna from my freezer,” I call out over my shoulder, as I step out the door.
Jordy is doing much better today. Even said she was hungry, but didn’t feel like the chicken and steak Jared has stockpiled in his freezer.
He left last night, and called briefly this morning when he arrived in Miami, to let us know he’d arrived safely. I did some laundry that was piling up, taking the opportunity to get my hands on that sparkling new washer dryer combo in his laundry room. It was hard not to be jealous when I have to resort to washing by hand at home. While I was taking care of Jordy’s and the baby’s, I figured I could grab Jared’s laundry as well. It felt weird, going into his bedroom. Almost voyeuristic. There’s that word again.
I tried not to be too curious, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. The first thing that struck me was the size of his bed. It must be what they call a
California King, longer than a regular one. I guess it makes sense, seeing that Jared is a tall man. A tall, big man. It was perfectly made, without any visible creases. Come to think of it, there was nothing in his room that seemed out of place. He clearly likes things tidy.
Catching myself gawking, I quickly looked for his laundry basket, which I found in the en suite bathroom, equally spotless. With my arms full of his laundry, I hurried out of his room.
The last time I did a man’s laundry was on the rare occasion Blair asked me to take care of his. We usually did our own, something that had evolved since we each had pretty unpredictable working schedules. So sorting through Jared’s things felt a bit illicit.
In between loads, Jordy and I bathed Ole, chatting easily the whole time. She really was doing much better. She mentioned how she’d enjoyed having her friends visit, although she’d seemed irritated with one named Tina. When she told me Tina was annoyingly persistent in her pursuit of Jared, I clued in quickly that she must’ve been the one I saw wrapped around him the other day. I tried to hide the relief, but found Jordy watching me with obvious interest anyway. I avoided any further conversation, on that subject, by getting up and clearing away the laundry. Except Jared’s, that I left folded on the foot of his bed, not comfortable opening his dresser drawers.
My cottage is hot as hell. I leave the front door open and Griffin, who’d faithfully followed me around the trail, distractedly sniffed his empty bowl before heading straight back outside. I pull a few things together, crack the kitchen window facing the lake a little, to get in some fresh air, and head to my garden.
With two grocery totes filled with some dog food, a few groceries, along with the lasagna I’d frozen a few weeks ago; loaded up with some fresh veggies, I start my way back around the inlet. I’m just rounding the bay when I hear a car door slam. Looking up, I spot a man standing in front of Jared’s house, beside a shiny luxury sports car, a bit out of place in the Canadian North. I’m not sure what makes me pick up the pace, but Griffin appears to sense my urgency, beginning to growl low in his throat. I keep my eyes focused on him, ignoring Griffin, who is rushing ahead. I watch him as he walks up to the door and rings the bell.
I’m almost to the end of the trail where it runs into the driveway, when I see the door opening and Jordy sticking her head out. I can’t hear what she’s saying but see her firmly shake her head, before closing the door on the guy. Except she doesn’t get a chance to close it all the way. His hand shoots out and shoves the door back open, sending Jordy stumbling back. I’m running now, rounding the car as I watch Griffin creep closer to the man, the hackles on his back up. His raised voice can clearly be heard now.
“You can’t keep me from him!” he booms. “He’s mine!”
“Hey!” I yell to get his attention, and he swings around, just as I reach out to pull him away from the door. His arm comes around and hits me square in my shoulder, knocking me right on my ass.
“Mia!” I hear Jordy cry out as Griffin charges, stopping just short of the guy, but squarely in front of me. I don’t know what I was thinking, charging up like the damn cavalry.
“I’m okay,” I call out to her, my eyes still firmly focused on the angry looking, well-dressed man, as I scramble to my feet. “Can I help you with something?” I direct at him.
“And who the fuck are you?” he snarls back, causing Griffin to take a threatening step toward him. I quickly reach out a hand to hold my dog back. I don’t want to add to an already volatile situation.
“Get out of here, Nick,” Jordy answers for me, stepping outside with a phone in her hand. “I called the cops.”
That elicits a snarky laugh from him, as he spreads his arms and dramatically gestures around him.
“Out here? You’re in the middle of nowhere, sunshine. Besides,” he adds, taking a menacing step closer to her. “I have every right to be here; that’s my son you have in there.”
With Griffin’s collar in my hand, I pull him along as I step a little closer to Jordy, who by now has smoke coming out of her ears.
“You’re delusional!” she yells. “That is my child! You lost any and all rights when you tried to force me into aborting him. Now you show up? Demanding to see him? Are you nuts? For your information, I was pregnant for nine months, where the fuck were you?” she says, squinting her eyes as she leans forward. “Get the fuck away from here, and stay away!”
Hoping to calm the waters before things get completely out of hand I turn to Jordy.
“Honey, go see to Ole,” I tell her, giving her an encouraging nod. She looks back and forth between me and her ex before heading inside.
“Ole? She named my son, Ole?”
I swing back around to face him.
“Look,” I start carefully. “Maybe it’s better—”
“Not going anywhere,” he cuts me off. “And you—whoever the hell you are—can save your fucking advice! None of your goddamn business!”
Griff starts growling again and straining against my hand. He’s clearly not a fan either. With a firm yank on his collar, I pull him with me, backing into the house and quickly slamming the door shut and engaging the lock.
“Is he gone?” Jordy asks, walking into the living room with the baby on her arm.
“Nope,” I tell her, letting go of Griff, who sits down in front of the door like some sentry, before I head to the sliding door, flicking the lock on that. “Windows locked?” I ask casually, after sneaking a glance at the driveway. He’s still there, leaning with his back against his car, talking on a phone. It gives me an uneasy feeling.
“Should be,” Jordy answers from the couch, flipping up her shirt to feed a fussy Ole.
Still, I quickly do the rounds, making sure every last one is latched.
“Did you really call the cops?” I ask, when I return to the living room.
“No,” she says, her bottom lip trembling. “I thought it might scare him off. Nicholas Quarles is the passive type. Under his daddy’s thumb,” she snorts derisively.
“I’m calling them,” I announce, grabbing the phone from the coffee table. “He doesn’t seem so passive now, and he’s not leaving.”
“He’s not?”
“Out there staring at the house, talking on the phone. At the very least he’s trespassing, honey.” I don’t remind her that it’s just the two of us here, and that the man was pretty angry. I can handle a bear, their behaviour is mostly predictable, but I’m out of my element with a pissed off asshole.
I briefly explain the situation to the nine-one-one dispatcher, and she assures me they have someone on the way and to stay inside. No shit, lady. Another glance out the window shows him pacing back and forth, still on his phone, when my eye catches the grocery totes I must’ve dropped in the driveway. Well dammit.
“Why would he show up now?” I ask, sitting back down beside Jordy.
“I’m surprised he found us at all,” she says, lifting a half-sleeping Ole to her shoulder and absentmindedly patting his back. “I never saw him or spoke to him again after he bailed. There aren’t many people who have this address, Jared wanted to maintain his privacy. The press went rabid after he was injured. They were constantly on his case, to where they would stalk his surgeon’s office, and even the physiotherapy clinic, to try and get information on his recovery.” She half-smiles at me. “Jared was kind of a big deal in the world of hockey,” she says with a hint of regret. “It’s been a tough year for him.”
“I can understand that,” I sympathize. I do get it. I may not have had a job in the limelight, but I lost something I was passionate about; something that gave my life meaning. “So how did he find you? Your ex, I mean?”
“Like I said, only a handful of people know where we are. Heck, even my friends didn’t know until I invited them up here and gave them directions.”
The sound of an engine outside has me shoot out of my seat and over to the window. An SUV, the familiar black and white of the OPP, the Ontario Provincial Police, comes roll
ing down the driveway. Jordy’s ex, who apparently got into his car at some point, gets blocked in when the SUV pulls up, right behind him, leaving him nowhere to go but the lake.
“Cops are here,” I tell Jordy over my shoulder, watching as the officer steps out of the vehicle, his hand resting on his sidearm as he approaches the driver’s side door.
“What’s he doing?” Jordy asks from behind me, Ole nursing on the other side.
“Talking,” I report, when I see the car door open and Nick get out, placing his hands on the roof. I watch as the officer pats him down, before stepping back, and crossing his arms over his chest. Nick is doing the talking now, getting more agitated by the minute. The other man takes a step closer, and he immediately drops his hands, which I think is a good idea given the policeman’s size.
Another OPP vehicle rolls in behind the first, and a second officer gets out to join them. I watch as the first one turns this way.
“He’s coming to the door,” I tell her, as I watch him bend over to pick up my grocery bags before walking up to the house. I turn away from the window to see Jordy covering herself and the baby with the receiving blanket.
“Afternoon,” the officer’s pleasant voice greets me when I open the door, “Are these yours?” I grab the bags from him with a smile, surreptitiously glancing over his shoulder. “He’s looked after,” he says, smiling at me reassuringly. “Can I come in?” He gestures past me, his eyes clearly landing on Jordy when I see them widen slightly.
“Come in,” she calls out, nodding at me.
I step aside and close the door behind him.
“Sergeant John Leblanc, ma’am,” he says, walking straight through to the living room.
“Have a seat,” she offers, and he sits down across from her, never sparing me another glance.
-
“Do you wish to press charges?” his voice startles me. I’ve only half-listened to the conversation since he sat down. Instead, I’ve made myself busy in the kitchen.
“Sorry?”
“Ms. Kesla mentions he shoved you to the ground?”
