The Game Changer : Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 8

by Samantha Lind

  “Okay,” he agrees.

  “Want a piggyback ride?” I offer, knowing he’s tired.

  “Yes!” he says, the excitement in his voice, but his outward emotions aren’t. I get him on my back and start the return walk. We aren’t even a block away when I feel his body start to relax. I look behind me as best as I can, and between that and the feeling of dead weight on my back, along with his head now resting on mine, I’m confident he’s fallen asleep already.

  I carefully make it back to my place, somehow getting through unlocking my door without dropping him. I take him in and lay him on my bed, slipping his shoes off and moving him to the center so he doesn’t roll off and hurt himself. I sneak out of the room, pulling the door most of the way closed so I don’t wake him.

  I pad out to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets to figure out a plan for dinner. I’ve got a good group to cook for with Cindi and Mason visiting this week. It takes me ten or so minutes to figure out a dinner plan before I’m plopping myself down on the couch. Mason has worn me out. I don’t know how Cindi and Stephanie do this on a daily basis. Parenthood isn’t for the faint of heart.

  John: How’s your day going? Mason and Cindi are both napping, and I am worn out. Took Mason to the park so Cindi could get a longer nap in.

  I toss my phone on the couch next to me, knowing that Jill is most likely with patients now. She sometimes has time between them to text me throughout the day.

  Jill: Going good, just have a few minutes before my next patient will be here. Glad to hear things are going good so far today! I can’t wait to get off work and get there. I’m dying to meet them both in person for the first time!

  John: Cindi was grilling me about when you’d be here before we’d even left the airport.

  Jill: I plan to leave here right at five. I need to stop and check on Walter for ten or so minutes and repack my bag and then I’ll be there. Plan on me arriving around six.

  Jill: Unless you need me to stop and get anything on my way over? Do you have dinner planned out?

  John: Just get your pretty little ass here ASAP. I’ve got dinner under control and we have everything we need. If Cindi wants or needs anything for her or Mason, we can run to the store after they’re both awake.

  Jill: Sounds good! See you in a few hours! GTG, my next patient is here. {kissy face}

  Chapter Twelve

  Jill

  “Hello!” I call out as I push the door open. The aromas from John’s cooking hit me, and my stomach starts to growl as my mouth salivates just thinking about tasting whatever it is that he’s cooked up for us.

  “We’re in the kitchen!” he calls out, stepping out slightly, a whisk in one hand. I set my bag down on the floor as I slip my sandals off, then place my keys down on the little table I put next to the door a few weeks ago.

  I make my way into the kitchen, finding Cindi and Mason sitting at the counter as they watch John cooking. “Hi! I’m so glad we finally get to meet in person!” I officially introduce myself to Cindi. We’ve met via FaceTime, so we already kind of know one another.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you face to face!” she exclaims, hopping down from her stool to pull me into a hug.

  “And you must be Mason!” I say to him. He looks at me kind of shyly, before his face breaks out into a huge smile.

  “Ms. Jill!” he exclaims as he scampers off the stool and runs around to hug me. He wraps himself around my legs, so I bend down to be at his height.

  “It’s nice to meet you in person,” I tell him. “Did you have fun at the park with Uncle John?” I ask him.

  “How’d you know about the park?” he asks me.

  “When you were sleeping, he sent me a text message,” I explain.

  “Oh, yes, it was so fun! We went down the big slide, and climbed the tower then went on the monkey bars and swings,” he rushes to get out all in one breath.

  “Sounds like fun!” I tell him as he pushes out of my embrace. “How was your flight?” I ask Cindi, standing back up to my full height.

  “It was okay. My back was bothering me, but other than that it wasn’t bad. A pretty quick flight in the grand scheme of things. Only about an hour long.”

  “That’s not bad,” I agree with her. “Anything I can help with?” I ask John.

  “If you want to get the table set, the food should be ready in about five minutes.”

  “Will do,” I tell him, pushing up on my toes to kiss him. With an audience, we keep it PG.

  “Missed you today,” he says, just above a whisper and only for me to hear.

  “I missed you, too,” I whisper back.

  I get the table set, Mason helping me with the forks and spoons.

  “All set,” I tell him once we’re done.

  John carries the dish with homemade lasagna. The cheese and sauce is still bubbling hot around the edges and the smell is almost overwhelming. He goes back to the kitchen, coming back with a plate filled with garlic bread and a bowl of salad.

  “This looks amazing, John,” Cindi praises him as we all take our seats. John helps everyone dish out a serving of the lasagna, while we pass around the plate of bread and bowl of salad.

  “Damn, baby brother. Who taught you to cook?” Cindi asks him.

  “Mostly self-taught, although, I did have one billet family I lived with for a portion of a season and the mom would try and teach us guys things. Said one day we would need to fend for ourselves and an important skill in life is knowing how to cook yourself a healthy meal. The basics she taught me are still ingrained in my mind,” he tells us.

  “I’m impressed,” she says, taking another bite.

  “How’s yours?” John asks Mason as he shovels his food into his mouth, hardly stopping to breathe between bites.

  “So good, can I have more?” he asks, holding up a nearly cleared plate.

  “You’re going to have to share your secret with me. It is almost always a struggle to get him to eat dinner each night. I can’t tell you the last time dinner was this easy with him,” Cindi tells us.

  “So, Jill, while my brother is occupied putting Mason to bed, let’s have some girl chat.”

  “Of course. Can I get you something to drink, first?” I offer. “Then we can go sit out on the balcony and enjoy the sunset.”

  “I’m good with some ice water, thanks.” I grab a large cup and fill it with ice and water from the fridge. I fill a wine glass half full for myself, then carry both out to the balcony where I find Cindi already relaxing.

  “Here you go,” I tell her, handing over the cup.

  “Thank you,” she replies.

  I take a seat, our chairs are not directly facing one another, but also not side by side. “So, how is he really?” she asks, not beating around the bush.

  “He has his good days and bad. I was really worried about him last week with the start of the season. The day of the home opener he was having a hard time before we got to the arena, but once there it was almost like a switch was flipped. We walked through the doors and he immediately started talking to employees that he knew. He talked for a while with the guy who owned the team or something like that. I think his daughter is the owner now?” I tell her, not really remembering all the details.

  “How was he at the game?” she asks.

  “Completely at home. He has a gift for breaking the plays down from above. He gave me so much information as things were playing out in front of us. I could see someone like that being a really big asset to a team, but he didn’t seem to agree with my assessment.”

  “I wish he’d planned ahead a little more on what he was going to do after he retired from playing. I know that this injury has caused that to happen a few years early, but it isn’t like he could have played until his true retirement age. He had maybe five to six years left in him, at best. Thirty-five is already kind of on the older side for professional players.”

  “It is a bummer he wasn’t thinking ahead, but he’ll figure it out,”
I tell her.

  “Oh, I know he will. I just worry that with nothing to keep him busy he will get into a rut and have a hard time getting out of it. John’s been through a lot in his life. I don’t know how much he’s shared with you, but our childhood wasn’t the easiest and I think that he carries a lot of that burden with him still.”

  “He’s shared a few things here and there, but I’ve tried to not push him to talk about things he isn’t comfortable sharing yet. I figure he’ll tell me when he’s ready, if he’s ever ready.”

  “It isn’t all my story to tell, so I’m not going to, just know that my brother cares for you greatly. I’ve never seen him like he is with you with anyone else, ever, and we’re best friends. We tell each other just about everything.”

  “I love the bond the two of you have. I think that it’s great. Being an only child, I don’t know what it’s like to have that sibling relationship. Julia, my best friend, is the closest I’ve got and while we might not be blood relatives, we’ve been connected at the hip since we met as kids.”

  “Have you lived in the area all your life then?” she asks.

  “I have, my parents still live in the house they brought me home to from the hospital.”

  “That’s amazing. You don’t hear of that happening all that often these days,” Cindi says.

  “I know. But it was their forever home and it still suits them perfectly fine. My dad is a pharmacist and my mom was a housewife most of my youth. She’d work the occasional odd office job part-time when I was at school, filling in when people went on vacations and such for a couple of family friends’ small businesses. She now helps coordinate the volunteers at one of the nursing homes in the area.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got great parents.”

  “They are pretty great,” I agree. “John’s talked a little bit about your parents. I know that your dad was in and out of your lives until he was seven or so. I also get the feeling that he’s almost as close to your mom as he is you,” I state.

  “Yeah. Our sperm donor, as I like to call him.” She pauses long enough to take a drink of her water. She sets it down on a little table next to her chair, then cradles her small baby bump with her hands. “He wasn’t a good dad. The drugs and alcohol were a big problem. He’d come around for a few weeks, maybe months, at a time. Promise Mom the world one day and then drain what little money she’d worked her ass off to save and disappear again for weeks or months at a time, leaving us with nothing. We spent many weeks of our childhood in and out of shelters.”

  I knew women’s shelters had some kind of importance to John’s life, I just didn’t realize how important they were and now I know why he was so agreeable to donating when we’ve gone to fundraisers for them. “I knew about your dad’s behaviors, but John hadn’t ever told me about the shelters. It all makes sense now. Last year, he donated to a charity event I was helping with once he heard that it was for a local shelter, and just a couple weeks ago he was my date to another event. For that one, he even agreed to be one of the bachelors that were up for auction—well, as long as I agreed to be the winning bid,” I tell her, laughing at the memory of yelling that huge bid out. “When I reminded him that I couldn’t afford what these bids tend to get up to, he told me he’d cover it.”

  “Sounds like something my brother would do,” she says, a smile tugging at her lips. “He’s really private about our childhood, and I’ve probably already said too much, but I trust that you can keep what I said confidential.”

  “Oh, absolutely,” I assure her.

  “I know when he got his first professional contract, he donated probably half of it to the shelters in our hometown that Mom would bounce between.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” I let her words sink in. “How did he get involved in hockey if things at home were so turbulent, especially with hockey being so expensive?” I ask.

  “There was a free program that started with the basics. I think they targeted our area because of the income levels that tended to reside where we lived. He impressed the coaches so much that they talked to my mom and asked if they could provide scholarships for his fees and equipment if she’d sign him up to play. She agreed and the rest is history. He’s been playing since he was five.”

  “That’s incredible.”

  “It really is, and one of those kismet kind of things. Had we not been at the rec center one summer day when they brought in this organization, he’d probably have never had the chance to even try out hockey.”

  “Funny how things like that work in our lives.”

  “It is.”

  “And you used to be a paralegal, right?”

  “Yes. I earned some scholarships and worked my way through in state school. Did my best to get out of school with as little bit of debt as I could. My last two years of school I worked for a larger law firm. They offered tuition assistance once you’d work there for six months. I planned things out perfectly and they basically paid for my final two years of school, so that definitely helped me graduate with very little school debt.”

  “Good for you. I also went to school on some scholarships. My parents were able to help out with the difference and they also helped me out with a loan when I started my business up a few years ago.”

  “That’s really awesome.”

  “Did you meet Stephanie at that firm?” I ask. I finish off my wine, setting the glass down on the ground next to my chair.

  “Yep. She started working there during my junior year of college. We didn’t work directly with each other, though, until after I’d graduated, so we didn’t really know one another all that well. It’s a pretty big firm, they usually have around twenty attorneys on staff at any given time.”

  “Wow, I didn’t realize that it was that large.”

  “Yep. We started dating a few months after I graduated. It was big office gossip, at first, but then people got over it. When we decided to start a family and I got pregnant with Mason, we decided that I’d quit and stay at home with him and now, of course, these two that are on their way.”

  “Do you miss working at all?” I ask. With owning my own business, I have no idea how that will look for me down the road when I’m ready to start a family.

  “Sometimes, but I also love being at home with Mason. I love not stressing over daycare pickup and drop offs and the hectic hours. With being married to an attorney, I keep my skills up to date helping her occasionally when she’s working at home late at night or if she needs a second pair of eyes on something.”

  “And Stephanie likes being the breadwinner?”

  “I think when she picked the career path, she knew that it was definitely a possibility. She hasn’t complained yet,” she says, laughing.

  “That’s great that it all worked out so well for the two of you. Since I haven’t been in a serious relationship since opening my business, I haven’t really thought ahead to what things would look like if and when I have kids. Do I stop seeing patients and just run the business side of things? Sell the business to someone else? Keep working? So many possibilities to consider. But before I need to worry about that, I have to find a husband.”

  “Have you and John talked about a possible future together?” she casually asks.

  “Nothing like marriage or kids. I mean, I think we’ve said casually how we both would like kids, but that it isn’t something on either of our radars, at least not in the next year or two.”

  “Like I said just a little bit ago, my brother is pretty taken with you. If you want my two-cents on the two of you…” she pauses for a second.

  “Yes, please,” I tell her.

  “He’s very smitten with you. I’d be willing to say head over heels in love with you, he’s just scared to come out and say it. He doesn’t want to get hurt or put you on the spot. He’d probably marry you in a heartbeat if he thought that’s what you wanted out of your relationship.”

  I’m a little shocked over what she’s just said. “I knew things were good between us,
and I know that I’ve developed big love feelings for John, I just haven’t been sure if he’s on the same page,” I tell her honestly. “It’s only been a few months since we started dating, so I didn’t want to rush things.”

  “I don’t think things need to be rushed, but I’d encourage you to maybe have some of those bigger talks with him. I know love can be scary and marriage takes work, trust me. But it can also be the best thing in life. To have that one person—your person—to lay in bed with every night and just talk about random things, or whatever is bothering you or what you’re excited about. Just having that person that knows you had a bad morning so they show up at the office with your favorite cup of coffee or lunch, or make you your favorite dinner just because.”

  “We already have some of that down. I know this might be TMI, and I’m sorry if it is. But some of my favorite moments are when we’re cuddling up together in bed at night, all sleepy but not yet asleep. John likes to run his fingers through my hair—I think he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it sometimes—but anyway back to what I was saying. We’ll talk about our days or what we want to get done the next day or weekend or whenever. He’ll sometimes tell me a story about something that happened during college or his early years playing in the pros.”

  “Stephanie and I do the same, and I agree, it is some of the best moments of my day.”

  “There you two are,” John’s deep voice greets us, causing me to jump slightly.

  “Did Mason give you any trouble falling asleep?” Cindi asks him as he walks over and leans against the balcony railing.

  “Not really. We did his bathroom stuff and then read a couple of books. He fell asleep about halfway through the second one, but I kept reading until the end just to make sure he was completely out.”