“You can’t skate faster than me, Dad,” mini Cooper tells Matthew. “You’re old.”
“I’m going to smoke you,” Matthew says.
“He really is getting up there in age,” Max says, and I laugh.
“What are you guys doing here?” I say, and my father looks up at me, and he smiles big. “Dylan!” I yell down the hall, and he sticks his head out of the room he’s in. “Come here.” I motion with my hand and wait for him to jog over.
“There he is,” Evan says, finally opening his eyes.
“Buddy, I want you to meet my dad, Cooper.” I point at my father, and he just smiles at him. “That’s Matthew and Max. You know Evan and Viktor, and those two rats are my nephews, Michael and MC.”
“Look at this kid,” Matthew says, getting up and slapping my shoulder. “You look good,” he says and then hits me in the stomach. “You look like you been eating doughnuts.”
“You fuc-” I start to say, but then I catch myself. “You wish.”
“That’s Cooper Stone,” Dylan whispers, and I smile, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Are you guys coming on the ice with us?” Dylan asks with his eyes big when everyone answers. “Cool,” he says, then looks at me. “I’m going to go get ready.”
“See you out there,” I say, and I watch him walk out of the room.
My father now gets up and looks at MC and Michael. “Are you two ready to go?” He holds his helmet under his arm when they nod and get up, walking toward the ice. “You look good,” he says, and I walk to him and give him a hug. “Looks good on you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, and he walks toward the ice now. “You guys said you were coming in tonight.”
“Yeah,” Viktor says, opening his eyes now. “Then the chain texting started.”
“Then plans started being made,” Evan says. “And poof, we’re packing up a day early. Now we are in a strange house, and baby Zoey is over it. She didn’t get to sleep until five.”
“Four thirty,” Viktor says. “Then again at six.”
“What are you talking about?” Evan says. “She’s two months old, so that’s her thing.”
“How does a little thing have such deep lungs?” Viktor asks, and the guys laugh now. I sit on the bench and start getting ready.
“It’s only starting,” Evan says. “Wait until teething.”
“Fucking horrible,” Max says. “I swear I almost went bald on both sides of my head.”
“So what’s the story?” Matthew says, looking at me. “He yours?”
I just look at him. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“Holy shit,” Max says the same time Viktor holds out a hand for Evan to pay him money.
“I never thought I would see the day,” Matthew says. “You with a kid.”
“I used to babysit all the time,” I tell them, putting on my skates.
“Yeah, to get the girls to come over and help you,” Max says.
“Shut up,” I tell them.
“How serious is this?” Viktor asks me.
“Very,” I tell them even though we haven’t had any conversations about it.
“She living with you?” Matthew asks me.
“Yeah,” I say, and then I look up while he smirks and crosses his arms over his chest.
“You going to let her leave?” Max then asks.
“Nope,” I say, and now Evan and Max moan.
“He’s a fucking crazy like Matthew,” Max says, shaking his head.
“No one is crazy like Matthew,” Evan says.
“I bet you double or nothing,” Viktor says. “He’s a touch worse.” He points at me.
I’m about to answer him when Michael comes into the room. “Dad, my leg hurts,” he says to him, and I look at him. He’s the same age as Dylan.
“Where?” he asks him.
“Where Alex hit me with the stick,” he says, and Max shakes his head.
“You’ll be fine,” he says. “Go sit on the bench for a bit.”
“What was that?” I ask Max.
“Alex was not happy when she was told it was boys only,” Max says. “She took the hockey stick and slashed Michael with it.”
“Oh my God,” Evan says, putting his hand over his mouth to stop the laughing.
“Don’t laugh,” Max says. “Where do you think it comes from? Those Stone women.”
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, getting up, and Viktor and Evan finally open their bag and get their things on. I walk out to the ice and see that Dylan is skating with MC. They both skate for the puck, and MC is a touch faster because he’s taller.
“Bring the puck back!” my father yells and makes them, and Dylan lifts MC’s stick, and just like that, he’s skating down the ice toward my father.
“That yours?” Matthew asks from beside me, and I nod. “That kid is going to make it.”
“What?” I ask him.
“See the way he skates there?” He points at Dylan who skates as if he’s gliding. “You can’t teach that, and if you do, you get it when you’re fourteen.” He turns and looks back. “Max, check out the kid.”
“Where?” Evan asks. “I have to go one-on-one with him.”
“He’s eight,” I say, and Viktor just laughs. I look at them with their New York shirts.
“You couldn’t just wear Stone Camp shirts?” I ask, and they all shake their heads.
“Assholes,” I say and skate on the ice to my father.
“Hey, Dad,” I say and then look in the corner where Dylan is fighting MC for the puck. He fakes right but then puts his stick between his own legs and knocks it away from MC, who just smirks at him as he shoots it in the net. I’m lucky that we had an empty ice this morning while all the other campers are on the other three rinks.
“That kid is …” my father starts, and Matthew joins us.
“He’s better than you guys were.” He laughs and skates to Dylan, and he starts to tell him and point at him and then to the center of the ice.
“Come on, Dylan,” Evan says, skating on the ice. “Let’s see who’s number one now.”
Dylan smiles and spits out his mouth guard. “Justin is number one.” He skates to me, and I put my hand on his head.
“Let’s show them what we’re made of, kid.” I smile to him and skate to the middle of the ice. “Dylan and me against Evan and Michael.”
“Let’s go, Michael!” Evan yells.
“Uncle Evan, I don’t want to,” he moans, getting off the bench and coming over to us. “It’s summer. Mom said I don’t have to play hockey in the summer.”
“You know Uncle Evan,” MC starts to say. “Uncle Justin did score more points than you last year.” He smirks and stands next to Matthew who just shakes his head. “Stats don’t lie, right?”
“Could be but my numbers are still higher than M&M over there,” he says and looks at me. “We doing this?”
“Yeah,” Dylan says and gets into position. My father comes over and holds the puck in the middle of center ice, and Michael and Dylan both look at him.
He drops the puck, and Dylan is the first on it. He almost runs past Michael, who is skating behind him, and I look as Evan just smiles at him. “Let’s see what you got, kid,” Evan says, skating backward, and he looks at me and then I just nod at him. He tries to take the puck away from Dylan, but he turns his body and then goes around him, and all he can do is watch him skate to the goal and tip it in. The whole bench breaks out in laughter.
“I did it,” Dylan says, skating to me. “I did it.”
“You did, buddy,” I say, holding up my gloved hand. “Okay now, let’s go teach some kids,” I say, and we get off ice one and walk over to ice two and three. We separate, and when it’s lunchtime, we all gather upstairs for lunch. I look for Dylan, who is sitting with Michael, and they are laughing at something. “How great is this?” I say to the guys who look around.
“You are doing a good thing here,” my father says. “All these kids not having the chance to get on the ice, and you are pa
ying for them to do all of this.” I shrug.
“There are a couple that if they are given a free ride would just be out of this world,” Matthew says.
“I have an idea for the Horton Foundation.” Max says of the foundation that he started long ago. He works with the child’s oncology department because his sister is a doctor there. Her stepson is a survivor, and she helped treat him.
“Yeah,” Evan says. “I’d pitch in money to help kids.”
“You guys are all copycats,” I tell them, taking a bite of my chicken.
“But with all that said, it’s a good thing.”
“Your kid,” Viktor says now, and I look over at him. He was quiet at first, and he took some time to come around. But after he went through his recovery and got with Zoe, he really blossomed and opened up. It was good to see. “He’s got hands; he’s got speed. If he had just a touch more height, he could even be three levels ahead. But it will come.”
“His hands are insane,” Evan says. “I was with him and the other kids his age. The kid didn’t even look up when he is doing the drill, but he just stared straight and let the puck feel the stick.”
I smile. “I taught him that,” I say, and I look over at my father, who just smiles as he remembers teaching me the same thing. “He really is great,” I say, my chest filling with this enormous pride that I didn’t even know was there. I look over at him, and it just clicks into place. Everything was there. I knew that I liked what we had, and I knew that it was special. What I didn’t know was that I would do whatever I needed to protect it. Now I just have to convince his mother.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Caroline
For the whole day, I am on pins and needles. I keep coming up with excuses on how to bail for tonight, but Dylan is with him. I pick up the phone no less than one hundred times an hour, phrasing a text, but in the end, I never send anything.
“You look like you are ready to crawl out of your skin,” Cheryl says when she pokes her head into my office at two o’clock.
“Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m meeting Justin’s family tonight,” I say, and she comes in smiling.
“How exciting.” She sits down in one of the empty chairs. I look toward the window, seeing the sun outside shining.
“It’s just …” I start to say and she crosses her arms over her chest. She is wearing one of her long white flowy skirts with a bright pink top.
“It’s just that you don’t think that you fit in.” She finishes the sentence for me. “You aren’t worthy.” She doesn’t stop either. “That he deserves to have better.”
“Pretty much.” I lean back in the chair. My legs shake, and my fingers strum. “We are from two totally different worlds.”
“See, that is where I think you’re wrong,” she says, and I look at her. “You are not that different. Do you smoke?” I shake my head. “Does he?” Again, I shake my head. “Do you do drugs?” I roll my eyes. “You see where I’m going with this.”
“Okay, I’m not a drug addict,” I start.
“You are in this place because you fell in love with a man,” she says.
“I don’t know if I ever really loved him,” I tell her. “I was seventeen when I got pregnant, eighteen when I had Dylan. My parents kicked me out, and he took me in. How do you know what love is at that age?”
“Exactly.” She raises her eyebrows. “You are a survivor. That is what you are. You are doing what you are doing for your child, which makes you just like everyone else in the world.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll remember that tonight when I look around and feel like I want the earth to swallow me up.”
“You do that,” she says, getting up. “See you Sunday.”
“Have a great weekend, Cheryl,” I say to her, and she walks out with her signature wiggling fingers in the air.
I close the computer and make my way back to the apartment. The phone rings right when I turn on the street, and I press accept on the Bluetooth. “Sweetheart.”
“Hey,” I say, the smile filling my face without me even knowing.
“Where are you?” he asks.
“Two minutes from your place,” I say.
“Okay, I’ll be there soon,” he says. “See you soon, sweetheart.”
I pull into the parking spot and then walk to the elevator. I’m about to press the button when I see his car coming into view. I stand here smiling, walking back to his parking space. He gets out, and his eyes fly to mine, the smirk going to a full smile. I look at the back, expecting Dylan to come out, but it’s not Dylan. It’s a man who looks exactly like Justin, and just like that, I feel like I’m going to vomit.
He looks at me and smiles, and then the door opens again from the front seat and another guy gets out, and he’s just as tall as Justin with more muscle. Then I hear Dylan. “Mom, Mom!” He calls my name when he comes out of the car and runs over to me. “Guess what I did?”
I look down at my son radiating with happiness. His eyes are light and bright, his face with a light tan from spending so much time in the pool. “I beat Evan.”
“Did you?” I ask, and he nods his head and looks over his shoulder at Justin. “Tell her.”
“He did,” he says as he comes to me, leaning down and kissing me on the lips. Then he stands next to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. “Sweetheart,” he says. “I’d like you to meet my dad, Cooper, and my brother, Matthew.”
I don’t know how to greet them. Should I put my hand out to shake theirs or should I just nod and smile and wave? How does one greet the father of the man she’s fallen in love with? “It’s very nice to meet you,” his father says, coming to me and giving me a hug. “You’ve got yourself an amazing young man,” he says, and I have no words as he steps back and gives Matthew a chance to greet me.
“Great to finally meet you,” Matthew says, coming in and giving me the same greeting as his father.
“Let’s get upstairs,” Justin says and grabs my hand, walking to the elevator.
“Can we go to the pool when everyone gets here?” Dylan asks. I look over at Justin, wondering who the fuck is everyone.
“Sure,” Matthew says, looking down at his phone. “They just loaded up the cars and will be here in ten minutes,” he says, looking up.
“I’ll make sure I get food delivered,” Justin says, taking out his phone. When the elevator doors open, we all get in.
Matthew and Justin are talking about what to order, and Cooper is talking to Dylan, and I’m trying to become as invisible as I can. When the elevator doors open, the boys walk out, and Justin slowly slides his fingers in mine. He leans over and whispers, “Relax.” Dylan grabs the keys from Justin and opens the door for everyone.
“Are they almost here?” Dylan asks, and Matthew looks at his phone.
“Actually, they are parking right now,” Matthew says, and I look over at Justin.
“Excuse me,” I say to them and walk toward the bedrooms. I’m even shy to walk into Justin’s room, knowing that his father knows where his room is. I’m in front of the bed when I feel him behind me. His arms going around my waist to stop me from walking.
“Sweetheart,” he says soft and low. I close my eyes while his front presses into my back, and my right hand comes up to hold the arm around my waist. “You have to relax.”
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I say quietly and turn in his arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my whole life. It’s just too much.”
“It’s going to be great,” he says to me, leaning forward and giving me a soft kiss. “I promise you that it’s going to be amazing, and if at any time you feel even a bit uncomfortable, all you have to do is tell me, and we can take a break.”
“Justin, this is huge,” I say finally. “Your family … it’s your whole world.”
“Sweetheart,” he says again softly and leans down to kiss me, and this time, I get lost in him. His tongue mixes with mine, and I swear my heart speeds up for a whole different reason. He p
ulls me even closer to him, and right when I turn my head to the other side to deepen the kiss, I hear Dylan.
“They are kissing again!” he yells over his shoulder, and Justin tries not to laugh as I hang my head forward. “Mom, come meet Justin’s mom.” He whispers, “She looks like a princess.”
Justin smiles and kisses my forehead. “They are going to think we came into the room to make out.” I close my eyes.
“You ready?” he asks, and I nod my head. “Let’s do this.”
I follow him out, and the whole place is overflowing with more people than I can count. “Well, well, well,” a girl says. I look at her, and she has the most beautiful blue eyes. “Caught with your hand in the cookie jar,” she jokes, and Justin shakes his head.
“This is Allison,” Justin says, and a man comes up to her and puts his arm around her shoulders. He’s tall, and his black hair is folded over, and he is holding the hand of a little girl who looks exactly like her mother. “This is Max, her husband, and their daughter, Alex.”
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Allison says, coming to me and taking me in her arms. Her husband smiles at me and nods, his arm never leaving her. “Why am I not surprised that you managed to snag the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” she says to Justin and pushes his shoulder. “Michael!” she yells. “Come meet Dylan’s mom.” She turns to me. “I’ve heard nothing but Dylan, Dylan, Dylan since he came back.”
“Hi,” Michael says from beside Dylan, and he looks just like his father.
“Here.” A woman comes over with strawberry blond hair and hands Justin a baby who just looks up at him. “Go see Uncle Justin.”
“This,” Justin says, cuddling the baby in his arms, “is Trouble number two or number one, depending on the day.” The woman throws her head back and laughs, and I finally get that she is Zoe.
“It’s so good to meet the one who has this one on his toes,” she says, leaning forward and giving me a hug. “You are too pretty for him.”
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