Shutout

by Jami Davenport

  “That’s Hailey and Heath,” Caro said.

  I didn’t comment but turned to the next photograph. Heath was in full hockey gear and racing down the ice. Emotion surged inside me, filling my chest with a mixture of wonder, sorrow, and love. He was my son. I couldn’t speak, and I kept my gaze turned away from Caro. Hot tears burned in my eyes, and my heart felt as if it might burst from my chest.

  My son.

  The next picture was of Hailey, also on skates, but in a figure-staking costume and executing a spin. A vise closed over my chest, and I rubbed my eyes with my fists. She was my daughter as much as he was my son.

  Holy fuck.

  I’d been slammed against the boards headfirst. I’d never known such pain yet such incredible awe for these children I’d helped put on this earth.

  “They’re athletic, like you. Heath is the best player on his team. Hailey is a star among her group.” Caro’s voice was husky, betraying her own misgivings and regrets. This hadn’t been easy for her either. I almost felt sorry for her.

  I said nothing, merely looked through the three pictures again. There were no words when a man found out he was a father for the first time. No words to explain the emotions filling my heart with joy for the future and sadness for all I’d missed.

  I cleared my throat and held the photographs tenderly in my fingers. Finally, I lifted my head and met Caro’s gaze. Her eyes were full of sympathy, laden with guilt, and sprinkled with apprehension.

  “What do you want from me?” I croaked huskily, just grateful I didn’t break down and sob and reveal weakness to her. I revealed weakness to no one.

  When my dad died, the pain of my loss overwhelmed me. I never wanted to feel pain like that again, and I’d managed to keep my emotions in check until I’d met Caro that summer. I’d let her in, I’d become immersed in her, and I’d walked away when the summer ended.

  I met her gaze, displaying my hockey face, the one that betrayed no emotion other than determination. She stared at her hands in her lap. I waited, calling forth patience. She sighed and lifted her gaze to meet mine.

  “My husband, Mark, died a few months ago, and my in-laws admitted he’d been adopted. They encouraged me to get DNA tests done on the twins so they’d know their genetic and health backgrounds. I did, and I never expected the results. Never. I promise.”

  “You didn’t do the math and figure it out?”

  “No, I never…I never even considered… You have to believe me.” She wrung her hands again, and I recalled she was quite the hand wringer whenever she was nervous, like the night I broke up with her.

  “I don’t have to do shit.” Her possible intentions slapped me in the face. She wasn’t here because she was righting a wrong. She was here for money because she was desperate. I’d be a fool if I didn’t demand an official DNA test, even though I already knew the results.

  “You want money?” I didn’t exactly mean to sound as accusatory as I did, but it came out that way, and I ran with it.

  She lifted her head with pride and met my gaze with sheer determination. “No, that’s not why I’m here. Mark had a modest life insurance policy. I plan on going to school to get my LPN.”

  “How modest?”

  “I don’t see where that’s any of your concern. I’m here because it was the right thing to do. That’s all. I don’t want your fucking money.”

  “They’re my children, and my responsibility, too,” I said, testing the sound of the words on my tongue.

  “I’m not here because I want money. I’m really not.”

  I didn’t believe her. The timing was too coincidental. I shot her a glare.

  “I don’t want you to feel obligated,” she said.

  “They’re my children. They are my obligation.” I turned to face her, wanting to make myself perfectly clear. “I also fully intend to exercise my parental rights.”

  Her eyes grew big and she went back to hand wringing. “In what way?” Her voice held a hint of steel I hadn’t heard before. I’d stirred up Mama Bear.

  “I want all the rights granted to me by law. My attorney will contact your attorney. Give me the information.”

  “I don’t have an attorney.”

  “Then he’ll contact you to work out the legal paperwork and details. I’m sure he’ll demand an official DNA test also, but I’ve seen enough. I know they’re mine.”

  “Paperwork? Is that necessary?”

  “Hell yeah. I don’t want you disappearing when you feel like it. No fucking way. I’m their father, and I’m fucking going to be their father.” My hold on my temper was slipping, and I fought to control my irritation.

  “No, I won’t disappear on you. I promise.”

  “Right, like you haven’t the last two times we met?” I rolled my eyes contemptuously, annoyed I was behaving like a spoiled child but doing it anyway. “When can I meet them?”

  “I…uh…I don’t know. I’d prefer we not go there right now.”

  “Are you fucking nuts? They’re my children, and I have rights.”

  “Do your rights override what’s best for the children?”

  I sobered slightly, considering her words. “Isn’t knowing their father best for them?”

  “They had a father. A good one. They don’t need another, especially one who drinks until he passes out and sleeps with random women.”

  Her words stung, but I couldn’t deny I’d done my fair share of being a bad boy since I’d made the pros. “I want to know them.”

  “In time. You have to prove to me you’re serious about being in their lives, not just when it’s convenient, but especially when it isn’t. I don’t trust you or your ability to put others before yourself.”

  She had a point, but I hated to concede that fact.

  “They’re still grieving over the loss of their father. Maybe it’d be better if they got to know you as a friend first. They’ve had a tough time of it.”

  “You want me to deceive them?”

  “Not exactly. I need to be sure you’re going to stick around. That you won’t get tired of them like you got tired of me.”

  “I won’t.” I bristled, ready to chew her ass, but some still-remorseful part of me recognized the truth of her words. She didn’t know me. All she knew as how much I’d been partying lately. She had no idea what kind of person I was or how my presence might affect her children. I’d be cautious if I were in her position; any caring parent would. That didn’t mean I wasn’t pissed as hell at the situation. I was.

  “I need to see your commitment to them before I let you in their life as their father. Throwing money at them when you have a lot to throw around is easy. Being a real father is the hard part.”

  I clenched my fists and counted to ten. I had to maintain a level of civility with her. Having parents at each other’s throats wouldn’t do anyone any good. “Okay, you want to see commitment? I’m moving you to Seattle. I’ll have the arrangements made. I leave for a road trip in a few days. By the time we get back, it’ll all be settled. I’ll get my people to manage the details.”

  “I am not moving to Seattle.”

  “Like fuck you aren’t. What’s keeping you wherever you are?” My jaw hardened, and she drew back at the restrained fury on my face. I looked away for several seconds. When I turned back, my face was a careful mask of indifference.

  She stared out the windshield as if thinking long and hard. When she turned back to me, her defiance had turned to defeat. “We’ll move here. They have a right to know you, same as you have a right to know them. You can be an old family friend, and we’ve reconnected. I require I be there whenever you’re with them.”

  “Have it your way.”

  “Thank you.”

  Caro scratched out her personal deets such as snail mail on a piece of paper and handed it to me. She reached for the door handle, ready to bolt at any moment. “Is that all?”

  I guessed it was for now. I had a game to play tonight, and playing hockey was currently the furthest t
hing from my mind.

  “Yeah, I’ll be in contact. I have a game tonight but have tomorrow off. I’ll call you to set up something. You’ll also be hearing from my attorney.”

  She frowned, opened the door, and beat a hasty retreat to her car. I watched her get in and drive away. Only then did I wonder what I’d gotten myself into, not with the kids but with her.

  Chapter 9—Bad Game

  The Sockeyes’ home arena was electric as we marched as a team in a line through the tunnel and out the arena gate onto the ice for our pregame warm-ups. I put one foot on the slick surface, ready to skate energetically around the boards. Instead, my skate stuck to the ice as if it’d been covered in glue. My ass hit the ice first with my legs and arms flapping.

  The good-sized crowd in attendance to see warm-ups cheered at my misfortune. Playing the good sport, I scrambled to my feet, pulled off the skate guards I’d forgotten about, and did a low bow to the fans. They loved it, but their appreciation of my good humor did nothing to assuage the burning embarrassment. Of course, the jerk in the media booth chose to replay the scene on the large center screens.

  Face flaming, I skated to middle ice, where some teammates were doing drills.

  “Nice one, rookie.” Cedric slapped me on the back so hard I almost went down again, which brought guffaws from the team veterans and my now former friends.

  I tried to concentrate on my drills and my skating, but my brain would not engage. Not only was I obsessing over my fall, but I was obsessing over being a father and, even worse, over Caro. By the time I got back from tomorrow’s road trip in a week, she’d be moved to Seattle.

  I’d solved Caro’s living situation earlier that afternoon. The team’s goalie coach had been living in a condo courtesy of the team owner until he’d bought a house and moved into it about a month ago. It was dumb luck that the place had come available at the same time I’d asked Mina, Ethan Parker’s scary-assed assistant, if she knew of any openings in the Parker Union Condo Building.

  I’d wanted to pay the rent. Ethan insisted on not taking any rent. He said I’d be doing him a favor as he’d write off the loss of income from the unit.

  I didn’t believe a write-off was that big of a favor, but I graciously accepted. NHL rookies made a good salary, but lots of rookies spent way above their means in a short amount of time. I didn’t want to be one of them. Kaden was already heading that way, despite lectures from Steele and me about the virtues of saving for a rainy day. By and large, most hockey careers were short-lived, allowing us a small portion of our lives to earn the big bucks. A guy never knew when he’d suffer a game-ending injury or when the league no longer wanted his services.

  Now that I had kids to think about, being careful with my money and investing wisely were more crucial than ever.

  I was a father.

  I’d been repeating those four words over and over all day, still not used to the sound of them. I vowed to be the best dad a guy could be. I hadn’t told anyone but my roommates yet, and they’d surprisingly kept their mouths shut. I’d eventually tell the entire team and my family, but right now I wanted time to adjust without others’ well-meaning interference.

  My night went from bad to worse. I wasn’t doing anything right, as my skates had a mind of their own, my stick missed every pass, and my head wasn’t in the game.

  I was fucking mad at myself. I trudged to the locker room and hung my head. The guys left me alone, allowing me to work out my bad game for myself. I’d had bad games before, and I’d risen above them. They happened to all of us. We were human after all.

  And now I was moving Caro across the hall from me. I’d be lying if I pretended her presence wouldn’t have an effect on me. We had chemistry, and from the few times I’d been around her, that chemistry was as strong as ever.

  I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and starting one up again with her would only cause problems when it ended. I had to maintain a polite and friendly distance for our children’s sakes. No options.

  ~~Caroline~~

  I checked out and hurried to the airport as soon as Easton and I finished our talk this morning. I’d managed to snag a flight to Chicago at noon and was home before the first puck drop of the Sockeyes game.

  Once I’d arrived home and collected the kids from their grandparents, I’d called my best friend, Juniper. While Fran and Howard were supportive and understanding, I needed someone who’d known me all my life and called me on my bullshit when I needed it. I’d met Juniper in first grade, and we’d been friends through high school. In fact, she’d been around that summer and met Easton and dated a few of his teammates. Juniper was coming off a bad divorce to a lazy, abusive asshole and needed me as much as I needed her.

  She loved hockey, so it was a no-brainer that we’d end up watching the game.

  Easton played like a man who’d just found out he was the father to a set of six-year-old twins, including his ass-plant on the ice, which was replayed over and over again throughout the game. I felt responsible for his crappy game. Nothing was going right for him tonight. I worried our presence might endanger his spot on the team, because I worried about everything.

  “He’s playing like crap,” Juniper noted as Easton tripped over his own feet and passed the puck to an opposing player, who sailed down the ice and scored a goal.

  “It’s not one of his better games, I’d guess.”

  “You aren’t blaming yourself, are you?” Juniper said, picking up on my misery.

  “Sorta.”

  “He’s a professional. You’re not responsible for how he plays. He needs to put on his big-boy boxers and not let his personal life interfere with his game. And his graceful entrance on the ice was a classic. He’ll be living that one down forever.” Junie laughed her ass off, not caring about Easton’s bruised ego.

  “It was funny,” I admitted. “And you’re right, I’m not responsible for his on-ice performances.”

  “I’m always right.”

  We’d ordered out for pizza, and I’d almost gotten a smile out of Heath when I told him he could stay up and watch the hockey game since it wasn’t a school night. The Blackhawks were his team, and they happened to be playing the Sockeyes. Hailey forgot she was mad at me and snuggled up next to me with Rusty purring on her lap. Rusty was my old tabby. I’d had him since I’d been fourteen. He’d been with me through so much good and bad in my life.

  “Who are you talking about?” asked Heath from between us.

  I met Juniper’s eyes over Heath’s head. She shrugged and left it up to me to explain.

  “No one you’d know,” I said, taking the easy way out. It was intermission, and they were showing the salmon being tossed back and forth in Pike Place Market.

  “Can we go to Seattle and throw fish?” Heath asked.

  Maybe there was a God, because my son just gave me a segue.

  “Sure, we can do that. What would you think about moving to Seattle?”

  “And leave Nana and Grandpa?” Hailey stuck out her lower lip and shook her head. “I don’t want to move.”

  Heath didn’t say anything.

  “If we move to Seattle, we can eventually get that dog you’ve been wanting.” Bribery wasn’t beneath me.

  “We can?” Hailey perked up and was all smiles for a moment. Then her frown made a reappearance. “What about Nana and Grandpa?”

  “They’re moving somewhere warmer, honey, so they aren’t going to be living here either. They’ll come visit.”

  “Okay,” she said, somewhat mollified.

  “If we move to Seattle, I can throw fish?” Heath had a one-track mind, and his pleasures in life revolved around hockey. So much like his father.

  “Yes, you can.”

  “When can we move?” Heath nodded vigorously. This was the most enthusiasm I’d seen from him other than when he was playing hockey since his father had died. He even smiled at me. I wasn’t naïve enough to think we’d gotten over that hump permanently, but we’d turned a corner. Tom
orrow, he’d probably be back to sullen and angry, but hopefully, those moments would become less and less.

  Hailey watched us, quiet for once, and yawned. “Hockey is boring.”

  “You can go to bed.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Things were looking up. They were behaving like my children once more.

  An hour later, I put both of them to bed.

  Juniper was waiting for me when I returned.

  “When were you going to tell me you were moving to Seattle?” The hurt on her face was obvious as she rose from the couch to pour herself a glass of wine.

  I followed her to the kitchen and accepted the glass she held out to me. I slid onto the counter stool and regarded her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have a chance to tell you.”

  “I’ve always wanted to live in Seattle,” she said wistfully.

  A crazy notion struck me, and I jumped on it before my analytical side counted off all the reasons my idea wasn’t a good one.

  “Why don’t you go with us?”

  Juniper frowned, her brow furrowing as she considered my offer. “Is there room where you’re staying? I mean, I don’t need much room, and I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. My job is dead-end, boring crap, so walking away wouldn’t break my heart.”

  “It’d be an adventure,” said the least-adventurous person in this room, but I was gathering steam. If Juniper came with me, I wouldn’t feel so lost and alone. We could both use a fresh start away from the ghosts of our pasts and our dysfunctional families.

  “I’m going to do it. You’re sure I won’t be an inconvenience?”

  “I’m positive.”

  We hugged each other and spent the remainder of the evening planning our escape to the great Pacific Northwest. By the time she left, I felt much better about the move.

  I settled on the couch as a rare, blissful quiet surrounded me.

  I was doing the right thing by starting fresh elsewhere. Well, maybe not totally fresh, since Easton was baggage from my teenage years.