His Wonder Baby: A Miracle Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  The place isn’t in great shape, but it’s not in shambles, either. Clearly someone’s been keeping the place up. The sign is freshly painted, and the door looks like it was replaced, although the tiled floor is exactly like I remembered and the bar’s seen better days. I amble over and sit down, not letting myself look around just yet. I’m willing to bet I know half the people in this joint, and I’m not totally ready to handle that.

  I order a beer and sip it while I watch hockey on the TV behind the bar. That’s a new addition, too. I sit hunched forward over my drink, letting the night stream around me. The place actually fills up, although the high school students are notably absent. I’m guessing the current owners cleaned that aspect up.

  About an hour and two beers later, a shadow appears over my right shoulder. I glance back and there’s a face I think I recognize eyeing me back, a little frown on his face. The guy’s got a big, bushy beard like a lot of dudes like to wear these days, and he’s wearing a hockey jersey over some jeans.

  “Will?” he asks.

  I turn around more to look at him. “Yeah?” I grunt.

  “Holy shit, Will Eaten. It’s me, Mitch Grain.”

  My eyes go a little wide. “Mitch? Damn, I didn’t recognize you under all that hair.”

  He grins. “You like it?”

  “Very manly,” I say, and he laughs.

  Mitch and I played on our high school team together when I was a senior and he was a junior. He was pretty good, not one of the better guys but a solid all-around performer. I heard he made captain the next year, which didn’t surprise anyone. The guy’s always been something of a motivational speaker and a leader of sorts. Besides, his uncle is on the school board.

  “When did you get back in town?” he asks.

  “Few months ago,” I say. “I’ve just been laying low, you know?”

  “Sure man, sure. Last I heard you were playing hockey over in the KHL.”

  I wince a little bit, and my knee throbs. “Yeah, I was. Got injured.”

  He nods, frowning a bit. “Shit. Sorry to hear.”

  “It’s cool. Can’t do anything about it.”

  He hesitates a second, looking over his shoulder. “I’m here with some guys but… ah, fuck them. Let me buy you a beer.”

  “You don’t have to ditch your friends on my account.”

  “And pass up the chance to talk to an actual pro player?” He sits on the stool next to me.

  “It was just the KHL,” I say.

  He grins at me. “Still pretty impressive. Which team were you on again?”

  I’m not sure I want to get into all this. The whole hockey thing’s still a fresh wound, and Mitch is clearly a hockey fanboy. Still though, he’s ordering me another beer, and I’ve been pretty down. Might as well kill some time and talk to the guy.

  I tell him all about living in Russia and about playing for Vityaz. I tell him about my friends, about the games, about being the best scorer on the ice.

  “But they always look down on Americans for some reason,” I say. “I guess since I wasn’t good enough for the NHL, people think I don’t belong anywhere.’

  Mitch grunts. “Assholes.’

  “Yeah, well, whatever. And then I hurt my knee pretty badly, so they cut me.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that,” I agree. “Cleared some cap space for them and got rid of a potential liability. They didn’t know if I’d ever play again, and I think they were right.”

  He frowns at me. “Is that for real, you’ll never play again?”

  “Yeah,” I say, and it hurts to admit, but I’m finally admitting it. “It’s true. I’ll never play again, not like I was anyway.”

  “Damn.” He sips his beer, frowning even deeper. “What are you doing right now?”

  I cock my head. “Sitting here drowning my sorrows.’

  He grins. “No, I mean, for work.”

  “Nothing,” I admit. “Just living off my earnings. I didn’t have a lot of expenses in Moscow.”

  He nods a little, watching me closely. “You ever think about coaching?”

  I blink, surprised. “Coaching? I mean… a little bit. But I don’t know.”

  “You should coach,” he says.

  “Okay,” I answer, laughing. “Where?”

  “Weston High,” he says, not breaking eye contact. “I’m the assistant coach for the varsity team, but the junior varsity team needs a new head coach.”

  I hesitate a second. “Are you serious? Don’t you want that job?”

  “Nah,” he says, grinning. “I get paid more where I am, and plus, I’m next in line for the varsity spot. If things keep going the way they’re going, I’ll have that job in a couple years.”

  I stare at him. “Seriously man, I don’t know.”

  “You should do it,” he says. “Listen, my uncle’s on the board. I can get you an interview, but with your background… they’ll hire you for sure.” He shrugs and sips his beer. “Think about it.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I say softly, surprised by the strange excitement in my stomach. “I will.”

  “Here, take my number.” I pull out my phone and type in the number he gives me. I text him a second later. “Call me tomorrow if you’re interested.”

  “Thanks man,” I say, totally mystified. “I mean, I’ll think about it.”

  “Do it,” he says seriously. “You may not be able to play now, but you were up at the highest levels. You’d make a good coach. You were a good captain back in the day.”

  I grin at him. “Thanks. I hear you weren’t so bad yourself.’

  He shrugs. “Maybe. Never went pro, though.” He pushes back his stool and finishes his beer. “Should get back now.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Call me, Will.”

  “Okay,” I say, laughing.

  He nods, shakes my hand with a grin, and heads over to a table of guys that I don’t recognize.

  I sit there for a while longer, sipping my beer, brain buzzing with excitement. I dosn’t know how this happened, but this feels right. A high school JV team isn’t exactly the big time, but it’s a step in the right direction, and it sure as hell beats sitting around on the couch.

  More than that, it’ll show Addie that I’m serious. I’m not running away from her. I’m settling down and staying in Weston for the long run, or at least however long she decides to stay here.

  Because I have a daughter and a best friend that I’m stupidly in love with.

  I finish my beer, get up, and leave the bar.

  The next day, I make that phone call.

  21

  Addie

  Three Months Later

  I shiver and sigh, looking out at the yard covered in fallen leaves. The orange and red firescape of the dying foliage makes me want to pull out a sweater, even though I’m already wrapped in one.

  “What’s the matter?” Eleanor asks me.

  I shake my head. “Nothing,” I say. “Just wondering how it’s October already.”

  She laughs softly. “Honey, it only moves faster and faster.”

  I frown a little. “Really?”

  “Really.” She stretches a little, sipping her tea. “I read somewhere that your early life seems so long because it’s all new experiences, while your later life seems so fast because you’re doing the same things over and over. There isn’t a lot of new experiences when you’re my age. The days slip past.” She laughs softly to herself. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so depressing.”

  “That’s not depressing,” I say.

  She raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Really. It just means that I have to keep making new experiences every day.”

  Eleanor laughs at that and I smile. She seems happier than I’ve seen her in a while, probably because I’m finally moving out.

  It happened pretty suddenly two weeks ago. Teddy asked if I could increase my hours at work, and of course I said yes, since I could use the money. Almost a day la
ter, Eleanor casually mentioned that a friend of hers has a vacancy in his apartment building, and I should move in.

  Reluctantly, I went to see the place. It’s beautiful, of course, and I thought it was out of my price range. But no, Eleanor’s getting me a deal. So we signed the papers on the spot and set a date for me to move.

  All of my things are packed. Although I’ve been living with Eleanor for a long time, I surprisingly don’t have all that much. Cara’s stuff took way longer to set up and pack, although she’s not moving right away. I’m going to get her room settled and everything unpacked before I bring her over, which should only be a couple days at most.

  I really never thought I’d get to this point. I always pictured myself living with Eleanor forever. We’d raise Cara together, and make sure that my daughter turns into a great young woman. I always thought I’d have her help and her support for as long as I wanted it, and I think I would. But it’s time and we both know it.

  It’s time for me to move out on my own, and it’s time for Eleanor to get her life back. Although she’s pretending like she’s excited, I know she’s going to miss me and Cara. Pretend all she wants, this house is going to be lovely without the whole crowd. I suspect she’ll be calling pretty often.

  At least she better be.

  Eleanor sighs and gives me a sidelong glance. “You know, speaking of new things. I have an idea.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

  She nods and heads back into the house. I watch her go, sipping my tea. Cara’s a few feet away, playing in the leaves and laughing. She throws a whole bunch of them into the air and giggle as they rain down on her. I smile to myself, enjoying the moment, letting myself savor the simple pleasure of watching my daughter play in the leaves.

  Eleanor comes back a minute later with a cardboard postcard in her hand. “This came in the mail a couple days ago. I was about to toss it but I’m glad I didn’t.”

  I frown at the card. “What is this?”

  “Just read it,” she says.

  “You’re invited to the first playoff game of the Weston High School JV hockey team. Come ready to cheer for the Trojans!” I look up at Eleanor, frowning. “What is this?”

  “Apparently the high school’s JV hockey team is doing very well this year.” She shrugs a little bit. “Maybe we could go watch the game.”

  I laugh. “I didn’t know you were a sports fan.”

  “I’m not. But we want life to move slowly, don’t we?”

  I shrug a little bit. “I guess so. I’ve just never gone before.”

  “It’ll be fun,” she insists. “Let’s give it a chance. I’ll get Julissa to watch Cara and we can have a night out.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I can’t turn that offer down.” I check the card and sure enough, the game’s tonight. “Well, I guess I should go brush up on my hockey.”

  “You better.” Eleanor grins at me. “Don’t want to embarrass ourselves.”

  I laugh again and walk down toward Cara, ready to roll around in leaves and make life go slow.

  The ice rink is shockingly crowded when Eleanor and I get inside. We find seats toward the top center of the home side, and it seems like every single person is wearing Weston blue and gold.

  “We’re underdressed,” I point out to Eleanor, and she just shrugs.

  “Who cares. At least we’ll be warm.”

  “Amen to that.” I’m wrapped in a sweater, a sweatshirt, and a jacket, and I’m not sure that’s enough.

  I jostle my knees a little nervously, although I don’t know why I’m nervous. There’s nothing special about this. I don’t know anyone here, which is fine, nobody knows me either. The kids aren’t out on the ice just yet, since we got here early, so I find myself scanning over the crowd. Parents with younger kids, some high school students, and lots of local people just here to watch a good game.

  I glance at Eleanor but she’s not paying attention to me. She’s watching the entrance ramp with a strange look on her face. I can’t really read it, but it’s almost like she’s afraid of something. I’m about to ask her what’s going on when the light dim and some music starts playing. The crowd begins cheering as the Weston team comes skating out onto the ice.

  “Lots of drama for a JV team,” I say to Eleanor, which gets a tight little laugh. She doesn’t reply though, and I follow her gaze to the home bench. It’s full of players and a couple coaches, although I can’t really make out any of their faces in the dim lights.

  As the kids get out onto the ice and the opposing team is warming up, the lights slowly come back up. I watch the kids skate and shoot at their goalie, running through drills and preparing themselves. I don’t know much about hockey but it looks really fun at the very least. I can ice skate, but I have absolutely zero athletic ability, except for hiking and climbing over rocks like an idiot, if anyone counts that.

  Slowly the lights come back up and the two teams square up in the middle. They drop the puck and the game starts.

  I watch the action, not really understanding what’s happening. I just react along with the crowd, so when they get excited, I cheer even more. Meanwhile, Eleanor’s face looks tight and she keeps glancing away from the game with a frown.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask her during a lull in action. “You keep looking at something.”

  Her eyes go a bit wide and she shakes her head. “No, nothing’s wrong.”

  I purse my lips. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  I let it go but I don’t believe her. I keep an eye in her direction as the game progresses. When the Weston team scores a goal and everyone stands, I keep my eyes on Eleanor. In that moment, I finally figure out what she’s been staring at this whole time.

  I follow her gaze to the Weston bench. I look at the players, trying to figure out what has her attention, until I get to the coach.

  I stare at him, shock being replaced by anger. I turn to her as the crowd cheers the Weston team.

  “Did you know?” I ask her loudly over the noise.

  She looks at me, guilt clear in her expression. “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “How could you?” I’m so angry it hurts. “I told you I didn’t want to see him again.”

  “Addie, please. You’re making a mistake.” She gestures down at Will as he high fives his team, talking to them animatedly. The boys all seem to respect him and they’re all hanging on his every word, which doesn’t surprise me at all. Will’s so outgoing and personable, he’d make an amazing coach.

  “I want to leave,” I say to her as the crowd settles and we all sit back down. I remain standing, looking down at Eleanor.

  “No,” she says.

  “Eleanor, I want to go.”

  “Addie Carter, you sit your ass down right now and you stop making a fool of yourself.”

  I blink, not sure what to do. I’ve never heard Eleanor curse, let alone talk to me that way. Slowly I sink down into my seat, mostly out of shock.

  “Listen to me,” she says into my ear. “That boy is the one. Do you understand? He’s changing, making himself better, putting down roots. I never would’ve brought you here if that weren’t true. Have I ever done you wrong?”

  I shake my head. “It’s not so simple,” I say, a little distantly.

  She sighs. “It is so simple. You’re just so used to hating him that you can’t see how good he is for you. If I had a man like Will, I know my life would be better for it, and yours will too.”

  I bite my bottom lip and look down toward the bench. Will is watching his players with a serious expression, calling out encouragement, cheering for them, shouting at them. He looks so serious, so grown up in his shirt and tie. I’ve never seen him working a real job before, but this makes so much sense.

  “Just talk to him,” she says.

  “Did he invite you here?”

  She nods. “We’ve been in touch.”

  I just shake my head slowly. I shouldn’t be surprised. “What am I suppose
d to do?”

  “Let it go,” she says softly. “All that hurt you’ve been holding on to for so damn long, let it go, Addie. Let someone love you. Nobody’s going to hurt you like your parents did, not ever again. That man down there, he’ll make sure of it.”

  I look at her, fighting tears. “Why are you so sure?”

  “I just am.” She smiles at me, softer now. “I see you around him, and you’re more alive when he’s here. You’re looking for life to go slow? That’s your chance, right down there.”

  I turn back toward the game, but I don’t see hockey anymore. All I can see is Will, and all our history, and all the reasons I should keep on running away, and the basement my parents locked me in, and the days they starved me so bad that it ruined my body in ways that’ll never heal, and the way they ruined my ability to love, and his patience in the face of it all, and how badly I need him. God, I need him to badly, it actually hurts to sit here in this sit and look at the man I could be with, if only I’d get over myself and let him.

  “Okay,” I say to her finally. “I’m ready.”

  She grins. “I know you are,” she says. “You just needed to know it too.”

  I laugh and she squeezes my hand. I sniffle a little bit, tears in my eyes. I feel ridiculous, crying in this crowd as they go wild for another Weston goal, but I don’t care.

  I know what I have to do. I know it’s time. “Thank you,” I say to her. “You saved me again.”

  “No, sweetie,” she says. “You saved yourself. I’m just here to help you out.”

  I hug her and she hugs me back. We’re silent for a little while, watching the game, although really I’m watching Will.

  I wish I could’ve decided this earlier. But it’s better now than never, and now’s good enough for me.