Big Stick: An Aces Hockey Novel

by Kelly Jamieson

  “Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold,” Zyana chanted.

  “We’ll get you warmed up, sweetie.” Jodie flicked on a light and dropped the backpack on the floor. “We made it.” She looked up and met his eyes. “Thank you, Nick. Seriously. You didn’t need to do that, but…I’m grateful.” She sucked in a quivery breath. “Not sure what I would have done.”

  “You could’ve called me.”

  “With my dead phone.” She rolled her eyes.

  “The daycare would let you use a phone. Hey.” He stepped closer to her. She was seriously down on herself about this. “You would’ve figured things out. I don’t know you very well, but there’s one thing I do know about you—there’s no way you would ever let anything bad happen to Zyana.”

  She gazed back at him, eyes shiny. “Th-thank you.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Well. I’ll head home. I have a feeling none of us are going anywhere tomorrow. Might as well settle in.”

  Just as he turned the doorknob, the lights went out.

  Chapter 10

  Jodie froze, then closed her eyes and tipped her head back. “The power’s out.”

  “Yep.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “Mommy.” Zyana wrapped her arms around Jodie’s leg.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. I have candles.” She moved to the kitchen, Zyana hanging on her. Luckily there was enough light for her to find matches and one candle, which flared to life. “There. Now it’s not so dark.”

  “It’s still dark, Mommy.”

  “Come on, we’ll find more candles.”

  “Wonder how long this’ll last.” Nick peered out the window. “The whole neighborhood’s out.”

  “Well, sugar.” She lit two more candles. “This sucks. How am I going to cook dinner?”

  “Have you got anything you can eat cold?”

  “I don’t have much of anything,” she admitted. “I was going to stop on our way home to pick up a few things.”

  “It might get pretty cold in here without heat.” Nick turned. “That fireplace won’t even work without electricity.”

  Jodie bit her lip. “We’ll bundle up. Maybe it’ll just be out a few minutes.”

  Nick moved to the door but hesitated. “If the power’s not back on in an hour, come to my house. I have a wood-burning fireplace in the second-floor family room. And I just stocked up on food.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be back on by then, but thanks.” She smiled, trying not to show how rattled she was. “Thank you again for rescuing us.”

  He nodded and left. And she felt an unreasonable desire to run after him and hold on to him.

  Just because he’d rescued them didn’t mean she needed him.

  She looked around the small house, candles casting flickering shadows. No TV. She couldn’t play music, even on her phone because it was dead. And damn…she couldn’t charge her phone. “This sucks,” she said out loud. For a moment Jodie felt defeated, then she straightened her shoulders. “Well, we can read some books.” She opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out the small flashlight she kept there for possibilities like this. “With a flashlight! It’ll be fun.”

  She grabbed the big fluffy throw folded up on the back of the sectional and wrapped herself and Zee up in it, snuggling them into the corner of the sectional where they liked to cuddle when they watched TV or read. “We’ll keep each other warm.”

  She tried not to be distracted by the sounds of the wind roaring outside and the noises of the house—windows rattling and various creaks. They read until Zyana grew bored and wriggled out from the blankets. “Can we watch TV now, Mommy?”

  “The TV won’t work without electricity.” She slid off the couch too, stood and stretched. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.” Zyana skipped into the kitchen. Jodie followed with the flashlight. It was getting chilly in here. “Do you want another sweater on, sweetie? I’m going upstairs to get one.”

  “Okay.”

  In her bedroom, she pulled out a thick gray sweater and slid it on over the thinner sweater she’d worn to work. For good measure, she added a big scarf around her neck. Then she grabbed one of Zyana’s hoodies and ran back downstairs.

  “Here you go. Nice and warm.” She popped it over Zyana’s head. “Now let’s see what we can find to eat.” She opened the fridge to inspect the interior, using the flashlight again. She tapped her fingers on the fridge door. Eggs. Nope. Milk. Sure, but that wasn’t enough. There was a tiny bit of cheese left, a bunch of condiments, and a jar of salsa, but they had no chips.

  With a sigh, she closed the fridge and opened a cupboard. “Peanut butter! We can have sandwiches.” Except when she grabbed the bread, there were only two slices and a crust left.

  She made Zyana a sandwich, then spread peanut butter on the crust of bread and ate it herself. Pathetic. She needed to be better organized. The fridge and cupboards should be full of staples in case of times like this.

  Mostly she thought she was a good mom, but there were moments—like now—when she felt like a failure.

  She glanced at her watch. It had been more than an hour since the power had gone out. Should they go over to Nick’s place? She hated to bother him again. She knew they were an annoyance to him. But she needed to look after her child.

  Zyana wouldn’t starve. They wouldn’t freeze…would they? What if this went all night?

  She bit her lip.

  A rap at the door had her head jerking up. Peering out, she saw Nick, wearing a big puffy jacket, his shoulders up at his ears in the blowing snow. She opened the door.

  He stepped inside and slammed the door shut. “I told you to come to my house if the power didn’t come back on.”

  She lifted her chin, ready to argue with him and tell him they were fine. “I was just thinking about it,” she admitted.

  “Hi, Nick,” Zyana said.

  Nick blinked and said to her, “Hi, kiddo.” He turned his dark eyes back to Jodie. “Pack what you need for overnight. Who knows how long this will last.”

  That probably made sense. “Come on, Zee, let’s go pack a bag.”

  Zyana bounced up the stairs ahead of her. Together they picked out what they’d need…warm pajamas, Ruby, some books, a few favorite toys and games. Jodie changed into a pair of leggings, layered with a couple of sweaters, her scarf, and thick socks. She didn’t pack pajamas for herself, she’d just sleep in her clothes, but she grabbed a few clean things and some necessities from her bathroom and then they rejoined Nick.

  “Did you eat supper?” he asked.

  “Sort of.” She made a face. “Peanut butter sandwiches.”

  “Jesus. Well, I’ve got lots of food.”

  Of course, he did.

  She blew out all the candles but grabbed her flashlight. Once they had their outerwear on, Nick surprised her by bending and picking up Zyana. He tugged the hood of her jacket low over her face protectively as they stepped outside. Jodie’s heart squeezed.

  They ran across the yard, buffeted by gusts and blasts of icy flakes, Nick easily carrying Zyana’s twenty-eight-ish pounds. They burst into Nick’s house. He shoved the door shut on the tempest outside. Inside quiet and calm reigned. Jodie blew out a breath. “This is crazy!”

  “Yep.” Nick set down Zyana. He pulled off his boots and left them on the mat in the mudroom, and Jodie helped Zyana get her things off, then removed her own. She followed Nick into his big kitchen. He too had lit candles. “First let’s get some food together.”

  Envious of his well-stocked kitchen, she cut up cheese while he pulled out boxes of crackers, dumped olives and nuts into bowls, and opened a package of some kind of dip. Zyana chattered away, kneeling on a stool, asking a million questions and making observations about the food. Jodie handed her a piece of cheese with a smile.

  “We’ll take this upsta
irs.” Nick picked up bowls. “I’ll come back and get drinks.”

  Jodie followed him to the front of the house, making out the renovations being done, with tools and various pieces of wood trim littering the floor. They climbed a staircase to the second level. The floor here was covered with a nice thick neutral carpet. Nick turned down a hallway, and Jodie glimpsed two dark bedrooms with a bathroom between them. More candles burned in the family room at the front of the house, creating quite a good light, along with the fire burning in the fireplace. A bay window facing the street was shaded with white venetian blinds, and a big brown leather sectional faced the fireplace.

  “This is a great house.” She set the platters she carried on the coffee table, which was a beautiful old oak piece. “You must have refinished this table.”

  “Yeah.” He too set down the bowls he carried.

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  Zyana bounced onto the sectional and settled herself. “Can we watch TV now?”

  “No, sweetie, remember? There’s no power. We’ll watch the fire.”

  Zyana’s eyebrows pulled together. She stared at the fire dubiously.

  “Let’s get it rocking again.” Nick moved over to it and picked up a log from a small pile in a wood holder. He added it and stabbed at it with a poker, making sparks fly. In a moment, it caught fire and flared up bright.

  “You stay back from it,” Jodie warned Zyana.

  She nodded, now mesmerized.

  Nick disappeared back downstairs. Jodie wanted to help, but didn’t want to leave Zyana with the fire, so she sat too, pulling Zyana into her side. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  “Yes. And wawm. I still cold.”

  “I know.” She pressed her cheek against Zyana’s hair. “We’re lucky Nick has a fireplace and he’s nice enough to have us here.”

  “He’s a giant. But he’s a fwendly giant.”

  “Yes. He is.” She closed her eyes briefly, gratitude swelling inside her. This was a crazy snowstorm and she hadn’t been prepared—but then, who had? Okay, Nick had. Still, it had caught the whole city off guard, this late in the year. She was so damn lucky to have such a beautiful place to live and a landlord who was…well, he was many things. Taciturn. Grouchy. Self-professed misanthrope. But also thoughtful and generous and kind.

  He returned, carrying more food. “One more trip. I assume you’ll have a glass of wine?”

  “You have wine?” She gazed at him in admiration. “Yes, please.”

  A brief smile flickered on his mouth before he disappeared.

  “Can I have a cwacker?” Zyana slid to the edge of the couch.

  “Yes, you may.” Jodie leaned forward and picked up an olive for herself. It had a pit in it, so she’d have to keep an eye on Zee, although Zee hated olives. An acquired taste.

  Nick returned, this time carrying a glass of wine, a beer, and a glass of juice. “For the little lady,” he said, setting it on the table.

  “Thank you.”

  Jodie gave an approving nod. Sometimes she had to remind Zyana about her manners, but she was pretty good. “This is like a picnic, right, Zee? Or maybe like we’re camping out, and we have a fire. It’s awesome.” She reached for a few nuts from the bowl and looked at Nick. “Thank you. That crust of bread with peanut butter wasn’t all that satisfying.” She sighed. “Really, I have my life more together than you might think, the way things have been going lately.”

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  He was probably just saying that. But his firm, quiet tone seemed sincere.

  Nick’s phone was working so he checked for updates about the storm. “Going to last into tomorrow,” he told them. “Already heard from the team that we’re not flying out.”

  “Oh no. Where were you going?”

  “Game in Vancouver Friday night. They said we could try to leave on Friday if the storm stops and the airport opens.”

  “What happens if you can’t even go then? Do they cancel the game?”

  “Yeah. I think it happened before…they rescheduled the game.”

  “Since your phone is working, could you text Max and Kendra and tell them Zyana and I are okay? Just in case Kendra’s worried.”

  “Sure.” He tapped in a message.

  “I want to pway a game,” Zyana announced.

  Jodie smiled. “We can do that. I brought some games. How about the memory game? I’ll go get them; I left them downstairs.”

  “Here.” Nick handed her a flashlight, and she used it to guide her way down the stairs. She checked out the house as she did so, seeing another flight of stairs leading up to a third level. This house was huge.

  They played the matching game, then another game involving a big die and finding fruit in an orchard. To Jodie’s amusement, Nick played along too, laughing when he couldn’t find the matching card for the peach.

  When Zyana yawned, Jodie bit her lip. “Ready for bed, sweetie?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked up at Nick questioningly.

  “Let’s see how warm it is in this bedroom.” He rose from where he sat and strode into the first dark bedroom, then returned. “I think if we leave the door open and keep the fire going it’ll be warm enough.”

  Jodie stood and followed him. By the light of the flashlight, she saw a big bed with a wooden headboard, a gorgeous antique dresser with a mirror and a chair. It didn’t seem too bad in there temperature wise, so she nodded. The big puffy duvet on the bed would help.

  “Okay, let’s get you into your pj’s,” she said to Zyana. “You can use the bathroom first.” Using the flashlight, she led her daughter into a smallish bathroom with attractive stone tiles on the floor and walls. They washed up, brushed teeth and hair, and then she got Zyana settled into the bed.

  “Will you stay, Mommy?”

  “Of course. We’ll read one more story, and I’ll stay with you while you fall asleep.”

  She snuggled under the covers with Zyana to keep warm and waited while her daughter’s breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep in the dark. Through the open door she saw shadows of Nick moving around, apparently adding more wood to the fire.

  She pulled in a long, slow breath and let it out. What would they have done without him? She hated thinking that she hadn’t managed this situation very well. But Nick had kindly pointed out that she would do anything to take care of her daughter, and she would…also, they’d just moved in, so she really hadn’t had time to prepare for something like this. She didn’t need to beat herself up over it. She would have figured things out without Nick. But she was grateful he was there.

  She closed her eyes at the emotions that swelled inside her, ones she wasn’t even sure she could name. Gratitude…yes. Relief that they were safe. And something else…something that felt immense and scary. Admiration for Nick. Attraction…and not just physical. That physical tug had been there all along, because he was handsome and strong and, wow, built. But now it was more than that…it was a pull because he was kind and thoughtful and even…playful. Even if his words didn’t always seem that way, his actions spoke so much louder.

  It was fine to like your landlord. That was all this was. She liked him. She just had to make sure her feelings didn’t turn into more than that, because that could get messy and ugly really fast.

  Zyana was sound asleep, so she carefully shifted the covers aside and slid out of bed. The air was definitely cool, but the bed was nice and warm. She paused to tuck Zyana in and gently touched her cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Love you,” she whispered.

  She left the door open and padded back to the family room in her sock feet. “Hey,” she said softly, sitting on the big sectional again.

  “She asleep?”

  “Yes. And I think warm enough.”

  “If not, we may all have to sleep out here closer to the fire.”


  “Well, that would be weird.”

  His lips twitched. “Camping out, right?”

  “Right.”

  He nodded at her wineglass. “I got you more wine.”

  “Thank you.”

  He sat with his feet propped on the coffee table and for the first time she noticed his socks…thick red and black checked ones. She gestured. “Those look warm.”

  He lifted a foot. “Yeah. I get them from a place in Toronto when I go home.”

  “Ah. So that’s where you’re from?”

  “Yep.”

  “Cool. I’ve been there. It’s a nice city.”

  “Yeah, well I didn’t grow up in such a nice part of it.”

  “Oh.” She eyed him, curious. “Which part did you grow up in?”

  “Scarborough. Which is not all bad, but where we lived was pretty rough. Crackheads and hookers, lots of crime.”

  “Oh God.” She stared at him over her wineglass. “That’s awful.”

  “Parents had no money. They were immigrants and barely spoke English. My mom was disabled…” His voice deepened. “My dad did some odd jobs. We lived in community housing for a while.” He paused. “Actually, for a while we lived in a motel room.”

  He said it so matter-of-factly she didn’t know how to feel about it, whether she should feel horror or pity or just…more admiration. “Wow.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Yeah. It was shitty.”

  “You’ve come a long way.” She gestured at the house.

  “I guess.” He glanced at her. “Sometimes it feels like it’s not very far. Thankfully hockey saved me.”

  “You played hockey as a kid?”

  “Yeah. My dad loved hockey. He played hockey growing up in Ukraine. We watched games on TV with him, and he got us used equipment so we could play.”

  “We?”

  His body stiffened, and she immediately felt the tension in the air. “Me and my brother.”

  “Ah.”

  “I need another beer.” He bolted up off the couch. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  Okay, he’d cut that conversation short. Was it the mention of his brother? Or just his childhood generally? It clearly wasn’t something he was proud of, but then, being poor wasn’t something to be ashamed of either.