by RJ Scott
Thanksgiving came around so fast, with Charlotte passing six weeks, chaos in our house, and today the first time that Ryker would meet his sister. The Raptors were in Pittsburgh, and that meant two whole days of Ryker driving over to stay with us, and Jacob flying east to join him. We’d already picked up Jacob who’d fussed over Charlotte as if she was the first baby he’d ever seen, but it was nothing compared to Ryker’s reaction.
He arrived, and after the quickest hug ever, he headed past me into the house to find Charlotte, taking her from Ten and then dancing around the kitchen with her.
“She’s so perfect.” He pressed kisses to her head. “Hey, Lottie! I’m your big brother Ryker.” He held her up so they were at eye level, “Ryker… big brother Ryker,” he repeated this until she let out a tiny babbling squawk, and then laughed out loud and startled her. I watched him with Charlotte, Ten watching with an amused expression, and my entire world was right and perfect. Ryker already had three half-sisters after his mom remarried, and now he had four. Charlotte gripped one of his curls, tugging it to her mouth, but in a smooth move he removed it, and cradled her close to him. “Does she need a feed? Does she need her Uncle Ryker to feed her?”
Candace visited briefly, but today and tomorrow she was with family, and when she left it was with a Ryker jersey, because it turned out she was a Raptors fan. Although she put that down to her loving to watch dreamy Coach Carmichael. We’d not long gotten over that image when Jacob barreled into the kitchen, his hair wet from the shower.
“You’re here!”
The kiss he and Ryker shared was enough to burn us all, and I extricated Charlotte and sat on the stool.
“Mom called,” Jacob began.
“Not now,” Ryker warned, and Jacob subsided. There was a layer of tension, and Ryker had already explained the two of them wanted different kinds of weddings. They’d planned it for Bye Week, which fell right across Valentine’s Day, but nothing had gone smooth for them in decision-making. I recalled our wedding and the stress of it all, but these two needed someone to sit down and explain that it didn’t matter what the day was like if you were next to the man you loved. Jacob sat next to me, and Ryker took Charlotte back, and did some more dancing, with Ten joining in, which deteriorated into a twerk-off right in front of us. Somehow in all of that, Charlotte dozed off in her big brother’s arms, and all four of us ended up sprawled on our sofas.
Ten cuddled into my side, and I played with his hair as Ryker talked about the season, and peppered Charlotte with so many kisses that I thought she might wake up. She didn’t. It seemed as if Ryker had a magic touch.
“And then Colorado put a bottle in the cubby, only the ass had replaced it with…”
I tuned out the stories of Colorado and his pranks, and how he was apparently more settled now, because it sounded as if he was still an unknown quantity in the locker room. He was lucky he was so skilled, because otherwise…
“And then Alex slid in the water, and it was some funny shi—stuff. Sorry, sis,” he murmured, and allowed Jacob to take her from him.
Seeing Ryker, with his fiancé and a baby, had me feeling the warm and fuzzies, which is why I did something really ill-advised. “So, how goes the wedding?”
Ryker huffed. “We’re agreeing to disagree on some of the finer details.”
“We’re agreeing?” Jacob seemed surprised to hear this.
“I want to invite the whole team, you want just family and friends, so I agree we cut down on who we invite.”
“You know the only reason I want to keep it small is so we can afford it.”
“I earn more than enough to pay for our wedding,” Ryker murmured.
I couldn’t believe my ears. He was still on a rookie contract but word was the Raptors were going to offer him a big contract to center the second line behind Tate, and that would be good money, but to blurt it out like that was offensive.
Jacob handed Charlotte to Ten who sat across from him, then stood and smoothed his jeans. I could see he was taking time to think about his words, and with measured calm he spoke in a low voice to Ryker. “And saying shit like that makes you an asshole.” He stalked off, threw open the patio door, and headed out into the cold of the day.
“You want to explain what you just said, Ryker?” I used my best dad voice, because I’d never heard such crap coming from my normally level-headed son.
He mumbled something.
“Ryker?”
Ten read the room, took himself out of the equation, citing Charlotte needing a feed, then it was just me and my idiot son.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Ryker sounded miserable as he hunched over his knees.
I scooted forward and pressed a hand to his back, just to reassure him that even if he was being an ass I was there to listen.
“Everyone gets cold feet—”
“It’s not that.”
“Do you not want to get married?”
He shot me a surprised glance. “Of course I do.”
“Ryker, you know you can tell me anything, do you still love Jacob?”
“Yes, of course—”
I sighed, because Ryker was in a twist over something that was a lot more serious in his head than maybe it should be. “There’s no of course about any of this, Ry. You threw what you earn in his face, as if it was a natural thing to do, and that’s not like you, and I can’t believe you even said that.”
He groaned, “Shit, Dad. I don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning, and we’ll try and work this out.”
“It’s just… he’s started working on this project with a tech guy. Adam is a millionaire who made his money in environmental whatever. Adam wants to find a sustainable farming something or other, and tells me that Jacob is a handsome sexy genius at every turn. Jacob defends him, says it’s all a big joke, but I’m…”
“Jealous? Confused? Lashing out?” He hunched even more, and I scooted closer so I could put an arm over his shoulder. “You know he loves you, you know there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I know, but it’s the wedding. Adam offered us the use of his estate—his freaking estate—and I don’t want another man doing that for us.”
“Oh I see, so Jacob does want to use it?”
“No,” Ryker sounded so miserable. “He doesn’t. And that is the worst of it, because I don’t even know what I’m messed up about.”
Oh, my poor boy. He needed guidance here, but instead of saying how much Jacob loved him and how it would all be okay, I was firm.
“You owe Jacob an apology, Ry.”
“I know.”
“You love him, he loves you, I suggest you go out and talk to him. Take coats because it’s cold out there.”
“Yes, sir.”
He trudged into the hall, then just as miserable, he walked back with coats in hand, and stopped at the door to the backyard. “Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it, just be honest, and don’t come back in until you’ve made it right.”
“Sorry, Dad.”
“It’s okay.”
“Love you.”
I smiled at him then, softening my next words. “I love you too. Now go fix things.”
As soon as the door shut behind Ryker, Ten popped back into the room, Charlotte in the crook of his arm sucking at a bottle.
“You’re good at this dad stuff.”
I crossed to him, kissed our daughter, and then kissed him. “So are you.”
Epilogue
Ten
Christmas
Perfection.
That was the only word I could think of to describe our first Christmas with Charlotte. For the rest of the world the holiday seemed to be fraught, and yeah, there had been some crazy moments leading up to the big day. Like the night that Lottie had woken us up crying with a fever. A two a.m. run to the ER with me in a panic turned out to be just an ear infection, something that was common in kids, or so my brothers told me.
Then there was the family Zoom ca
ll, which included Ryker, about how we were sure we would love everything that Santa brought our daughter but we’d love it even more if it were gender-neutral. I even gave them links but I genuinely think they’d been expecting us to say that. They understood it was important to us to let Lottie grow up free of labels, so she could decide who she was and what she wanted to be as her heart directed. It just made me love them more.
And tonight, two days before the big day, we were decorating the tree. It was not a live tree, much to Jared’s disappointment. It seemed our lovely nanny was allergic, and since we needed Candace more than we needed a live tree, the fake pine was now set up in the corner.
“I’m really sorry to put a crimp in your traditions,” Candace said, for the umpteenth time, as we carried boxes of ornaments down from the attic.
“Don’t sweat it. Honestly, I’m down with a fake tree. Less of a fire hazard, and there won’t be all those dead needles to contend with.”
“As if you ever vacuumed up the pine needles,” Jared tossed out as he followed us down the stairs. I stuck my tongue out at him. “But he’s right, Candace, it’s fine. It’s a fat, beautiful tree and no one will notice that it’s not a real one once all the ornaments are hung.”
She nodded, her long black hair braided and pinned to the back of her head, but it was obvious she didn’t believe my husband.
We placed the boxes on the floor. I went to make us coffee, Jared turned on some holiday music, and Candace began nosing through the ornaments while the baby slept.
When I padded out into the living room with three cups of coffee on a tray painted with holly berries and leaves, Jared was dangling a cardboard pair of skates in the air as Candace listened. She was much shorter than Jared. A little on the plump side, with warm eyes and a loving personality. She’d quickly become indispensable to us. She also had the Jean Rowe stamp of approval so it was obvious she was magic.
“…made this when he was in kindergarten.” He flipped the skates around. “His lowercase y is backwards. He had the worst times with his Ys. One time, in utter frustration as he practiced his letters he yelled at us, ‘Why did you name me Ryker with a Y? I want to be a Ryker with an I!’”
“Like Will Riker?” I asked while placing the tray on the coffee table. Jared nodded. “Oh man, I am so calling him Number One the next time I see him.”
That made Jared smile. He’d been kind of bummed when Ryker had called a few days ago to say he just didn’t have time to do Mom and us, and since he’d been here at Thanksgiving…
“I love the homemade ornaments. My tree is covered with them as well. Pretty soon you’ll have all kinds of artwork that Charlotte will bring home,” Candace said as I handed her a mug.
I liked the thought of that. A lot. As carols filled the house we strung the lights and the garland, then said goodbye to Candace. She had the next few days off as we had three whole days of no hockey. The game this afternoon against Carolina was our last until December 27, which was an away game in Boston, and Charlotte was coming to the rink with us to spend time with Noah’s nanny.
“I got us something,” Jared spoke up as we worked away in quiet companionship while Elvis sang gospel songs in the background.
I peeked around the tree. “The UPS man has been making daily stops and you say that as if I’ll be surprised.”
“Not all of those boxes and bags are mine,” he said as he placed the delicate gold heart that read First Christmas Together on a small bough right under the glowing white star.
“True, half are mine,” I conceded. It was impossible to shop for gifts and play hockey and travel and tend to a baby. There was barely time for sex anymore. Once a week was a dramatic dip. Hmm, now that I thought of sex it seemed like a good time to grab a piece. Lottie was asleep. Candace had gone home. If we hurried we could—
The baby started to whimper upstairs. “I’ll get her. I want to show you what came today.”
I smiled, bobbed my head, and then sighed as he climbed the stairs. I made a circuit of the tree as Jared talked to our daughter upstairs. His quiet chit-chat as he changed her warmed my heart. There was one gaping hole in the front that needed something so I rummaged around in the empty box, pushing tissue paper and a few boxes of extra hooks aside.
“Okay, I have two beautiful things to share with you,” Jared said as he came down the stairs, Lottie in his arms, and long silver box sticking out of his front pocket. “Here, can you take her?”
“Of course.” I scooped her up and nuzzled her soft hair. She cooed and gurgled and slapped me in the ear with a tiny fist. “She’s been watching Uncle Brady’s old game tapes.”
Jared snickered as he pulled the box from his front jean pocket. “I know it’s a little extravagant, but when I saw it in the online catalogue I just…well, I just knew we had to have it.”
“The way you talk it’s made out of gold or something,” I teased while cradling a sleepy baby.
“Not quite gold,” he whispered, lifting the lid then removing a fragile-looking glass ornament. It was a pair of white, snowy baby booties with Charlotte’s First Christmas delicately painted across the tiny boots, the date under the personalization. “It’s so hard to find things that aren’t pink or blue.”
“It’s perfect, totally amazingly perfect!” I moved closer and grabbed a kiss. He looked so pleased. “Hang it right there in the front in that space.”
“That’s why I left it bare there.” Lottie and I watched as her dad draped the tiny hook over the short bough. Jared stepped back, crossed his arms, and tipped his head. “What do you think?”
“I think everything is perfect.”
The next morning, after our daughter woke us at four for a bottle and a clean diaper, we girded ourselves for the coming invasion. A peaceful breakfast out at our favorite eatery, a trendy little bagel shop with a hundred different kinds of bagels and the best white hot chocolate on the planet. Charlotte was well-behaved and Jared and I ate our bagels in peace, not one person coming over to talk or get a selfie or an autograph. Not that I minded interacting with the fans, quite the contrary, but every so often it was nice to be out and just be left alone.
“It’s time to go,” Jared said after a quick glance at his phone. “The first wave will arrive at ten.”
I popped the last bite of my asiago bagel into my mouth, sighed, and nodded.
“Right. Let’s do this.”
We gathered Lottie up, covered her with a blanket, and made our way into the cold. There was snow on the way according to the weather, but not for another day. In a way, and I knew this was really selfish of me, I had kind of hoped that the snow would have come today. That way it would’ve been just Jared, Charlotte, and me for Christmas.
“It’ll be fine,” Jared said as we pulled away from the bagel shop.
“I know, but the noise. All the noise, noise, noise, noise, noise.” I made a dizzy face then crossed my eyes. At times, the din did get to me, when I had one of those rare headaches that popped up out of nowhere.
“You sound like the Grinch,” Jared joked and patted my knee.
“Yeah, I guess. That may have been an overstatement.”
Six hours later I knew that I’d not overstated the noise. Brady and his family were there, Jamie and his, and my parents. Oh, and Bourque of course. There was little perfection to be found, but oh man was there lots of noise. Six kids, seven if one counted Lottie, made a ton of racket. Charlotte was fussy and uneasy with all the yelling and hooting her cousins made all day long. Once evening rolled around and the kids quieted, Lottie began to settle a bit.
“Do we really have to watch Frozen again? Seriously, there has to be a new Disney movie to watch,” Jamie moaned when we all gathered for family time. Mom was adamant about us all sitting down as a whole to see a holiday movie.
“I vote for Die Hard,” Brady tossed out and got a grunt of disapproval from his wife. “What? It’s a Christmas movie.”
“We’re not letting the girls watch a terrorist fa
ll off a building,” his wife quickly retaliated.
“Fine, how about Home Alone?” Jamie offered as he scratched Bourque’s head.
“That movie is scary,” one of the Brady’s twins replied, I wasn’t sure which one, they both looked and sounded the same.
“It’s not scary, it’s funny,” Jamie argued but was rapidly outvoted.
“How about Holiday Inn with Bing Crosby?” Mom suggested as she patted Charlotte’s back hoping for a burp.
“What’s a Bing Crosby?” twin number two asked. Or maybe it was the same twin as before, who knows?
“I feel so old,” Dad moaned from the recliner.
“Okay, I have it,” I called from the floor with the kids, my back on the couch as I rested between Jared’s legs. I stole the remote from Brady, who always had it because he thought he was the lord of the remote or something. Oldest brothers are the worst. I pulled up my favorites list.
“I swear to God, if you pick Jingle all the Way I will whip you with a sock,” Brady growled as I hit play on Jingle all the Way then sniggered. Which got me a sock to the face as Arnold Schwarzenegger’s best comedy movie ever started playing. A small footwear battle broke out when I flung Brady’s balled-up sock at him, which ended with one of my socks hanging from the top of the star on the tree.
“Okay, boys, that’s enough,” Mom chided.
“Yeah, boys,” Jamie teased right before the sock wad hit him in the face. He snorted eggnog up his nose on impact which, when it came out in a massive sneeze, made Brady and me roll on the floor in glee.
“You’d think when they got older they’d settle down a bit,” Mom said with a classic Jean Rowe eye-roll. Jamie dabbed the eggnog off his shirt while he snorted with laughter.
When I sat down I found Charlotte staring at me in utter confusion. That made me laugh even harder. Her little eyebrows were tangled and her blue-green eyes narrow. I lifted her from my mother then sat back down between Jared’s legs.
“See what kind of insanity you’ve been born into, Lottie Lou?” I crooned at her, and the furrows on her brow softened.
