Hard Fall

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Hard Fall Page 3

by Brenda Rothert


  “Wait,” Susan cried. “Wait…just a second. What if they don’t want them? What if Wes and…whatever her name is don’t want them? Can we have them then? We’ll pay if we have to.”

  Len sat back in his seat, looking like he hadn’t even considered that.

  “We’d have to revisit the issue then.” He looked down at the will again. “Mr. Kirby and Miss Ellis, do you want permanent custody of Annalise and Benny Whitmer?”

  Did I? I’d never even imagined this situation possible until less than five minutes ago. I lived in a small studio apartment in Manhattan. My whole world would change if I had Annalise and Benny.

  But Ben and Lauren wanted me to do this. Well, me and Wes. I looked over at Wes. I still wasn’t sure how this was going to work, but most likely, he would let me have the kids. He was a professional hockey player, and he didn’t have time to raise them.

  Wes looked up and met my stare as he said, “Yeah. I want them.”

  “I do, too,” I said.

  Susan’s wail of defeat cut deep.

  “We’ll fight you,” she said softly.

  She looked exhausted. I imagined that between the loss of her son and caring for Benny, she was spent in every possible way.

  “We won’t shut you out of their lives,” I said, the words coming out automatically. “You can come and visit them, and not just for holidays.”

  “Yeah, we want you to stay in their lives,” Wes said.

  He stood as Patrick passed Benny to him. Wes did a surprisingly good job taking over, holding Benny close the way I knew he liked to be held.

  “Shall I finish reading the will now?” Len asked.

  No one answered, but he seemed to take that as a yes. Wes and I found out Ben and Lauren’s home was paid off and they’d both had sizeable life insurance policies and savings, all of which was left to us for the kids.

  The kids. I had kids now. I’d walked into this room an hour ago without children, and now I had two. I’d never be their mother, but I was now responsible for taking care of them in every way. For raising them.

  It was every bit as much of a shock as finding out they were gone. Grief was going to have to wait, because I was going to be busy for the next eighteen years or so.

  Chapter Three

  Wes

  Some things are common sense. Making sure you hold on to a baby so he doesn’t roll off a bed, not arguing when a three-year-old wants to dip her hot dog in apple juice, and putting kids in car seats. That stuff, you can figure out no matter how inexperienced you are. On the other hand, no one warns you about projectile vomiting, how many wipes it actually takes to clean a baby’s ass after a shit explosion, or what temperature you use when defrosting breast milk.

  I was now covered in puke, piss, and breast milk, Benny was naked, and Annalise didn’t seem impressed with my first solo effort at parenting.

  “You’re stinky,” she told me, wrinkling her little nose.

  “Well, me and the big guy are gonna get in the shower,” I told her, scooping Benny up.

  “Can I come?”

  I froze. Having her in the shower with me wouldn’t be appropriate, but I also realized I couldn’t leave her out here by herself either. She was generally well behaved, but still only three, so she needed supervision.

  Well, so much for a shower.

  Christ, I was fucking exhausted and today’s shit explosion had been epic. As an honorary family member, I’d changed Benny’s and Annalise’s diapers on occasion, but usually just pee, and certainly nothing of this magnitude. But this had been something else entirely. I’d made the mistake of opening the diaper while he was still shitting and then he pissed and—I was so not prepared for this.

  “Uncle Wes, I’m hungry. Is it lunchtime yet?”

  Today’s game day morning skate had been optional, so I’d stayed home with the kids hoping to nap when they did, but that hadn’t happened. It was almost one in the afternoon and I’d barely fed them breakfast, much less lunch, and I was starting to get overwhelmed. There was no way I’d be able to nap before I left for the game, either. I was just treading water.

  There was a brisk knock on the door and someone called out to me.

  “Wes?” I recognized Nash’s voice.

  “In here!” I called back.

  Thank fuck someone was here. Now Nash could keep an eye on Annalise while I showered with Benny.

  “Hey.” I looked up gratefully.

  “Uncle Nash!” Annalise gave him a bright smile just before her eyes rounded.

  Coming up behind him was our team’s enforcer, a huge Swede named Lars Jansson. Six feet six inches, with long blond hair, he was a shy, quiet guy who tended to keep to himself off the ice. I didn’t think he’d ever been to any of the team’s family parties, and Annalise had probably never seen him in person before.

  “It’s Thor,” she whispered, her eyes wide as saucers.

  Lars stared right back. “My name is Lars,” he responded in his stiff, accented English. “What is your name?”

  “I’m Annalise.” She walked over to him, stared up into his face, and then held out her arms, indicating she wanted him to pick her up.

  There was a brief, awkward pause as Lars frowned and then turned to me questioningly. I had my arms full of baby poopsicle, so I glanced at Nash, who quickly scooped up Annalise. “Lars is one of the Mavericks’ D-men,” he told her. “He has a boo-boo on his arm, so he can’t pick you up. But now you can say hi face to face.”

  Annalise frowned. “Does your boo-boo hurt?” she asked Lars.

  “I do not have—” Lars began.

  “A lot of experience with kids,” Nash finished for him, giving him a look. Lars looked confused for a minute but then nodded.

  “Yes, this is true.” He turned back to Annalise. “I am happy to meet you.”

  “Do you want to paint my nails? Uncle Wes said he doesn’t know how.”

  “Er…” Lars hesitated, seemed to give it some thought, and then nodded. “Yes, I can do this.”

  “Yay!” Annalise wiggled to get down and ran from the room.

  “You guys are lifesavers!” I told them. “I’m going to get in the shower with Sir Shits-A-Lot while you’re here so you can watch Annalise. Okay?”

  “Totally.” Nash quirked a brow. “And I’ll explain to Lars that when a little kid lifts their arms up, that means they want you to pick them up.”

  I chuckled as I left the room. Lars had a lot of quirks due to some mental health issues he dealt with, so while we were used to him, it would be difficult to explain to Annalise that he didn’t like to be touched and was sometimes too literal. But he’d agreed to paint her nails, which would score him big points because I’d made excuses when she asked me. I’d make a mess if I tried that, and frankly, who had time? I’d been on the go since Benny woke me up just before six. Feeding, changing, making breakfast for myself and Annalise, and getting us all dressed had taken me three hours. I’d been so frazzled I’d forgotten to take her to preschool.

  Benny had his head on my chest as I stepped under the warm spray of the shower. I let the water run over us and he seemed to relax under it, so we stood there for a while, letting the water do most of the work of cleaning us. He was so small and innocent, I didn’t know what the hell Ben had been thinking leaving his kids in my care. How was I going to do this? Even with Hadley helping out, I had serious doubts about our ability to raise these kids. Maybe we should have let Patrick and Susan take them. Ben’s parents were good people. I’d known them for years and until the reading of the will, we’d had a good relationship.

  I squirted some shower gel into my hand and lathered us both up as best I could since I only had one arm free, and finally got out. Benny was falling asleep so I wiped him down with a towel, pulled on clean sweats and headed to his room to put a diaper on him before putting him down for a nap.

  “How are you doing?” Nash had come into the nursery behind me and I glanced over my shoulder at him.

  �
�You want the truth?”

  “Duh.”

  “This is the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.”

  “When does Hadley get back?”

  “Three days,” I responded.

  “How long does it take to pack?” he asked.

  “Well, it’s not like she’s just packing a suitcase. She has to pack up her entire apartment, all her belongings, call movers, and take care of essentially everything before moving to a new state. I’m surprised she’s doing it as fast as she is, but she needed to get back before we leave on the road trip.”

  “I still can’t believe Ben’s parents wouldn’t stick around to help for a week,” Nash muttered. “I mean, we’ve hung out with them more than once and they were always so cool.”

  “They’re grieving,” I said quietly, trying to hold on to Benny’s legs as he kicked and wiggled, keeping me from getting the diaper on. I put my hand on his stomach as I glanced over at Nash. “We can’t hold anything against them right now.”

  “You think they’re going to fight you for custody?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Nash looked like he wanted to say something.

  “Go on, spit it out,” I told him.

  “Are you a million percent sure you want to do this?” He made a wide sweeping motion with his hand. “I mean, this is a lot, man.”

  “But it’s what Ben and Lauren wanted,” I said quietly. “How can I not try? And even though I never thought about parenting them, I love these kids.”

  “I know.” Nash put a hand on my shoulder. “And I’m here for you. Whatever you need, just give me a call.”

  “Things will be easier once Hadley gets here.”

  “You think?” He met my gaze because everyone knew Hadley and I were like oil and water. We bickered constantly whenever we were in the same room together.

  “We don’t have a choice,” I said.

  “Well, I think—dude, look out!”

  I looked down just in time for a spray of urine to come up, soaking my clean sweats, my arm, the changing table, and the fresh sleeper I’d just put out. I looked down in time to see Benny give me a huge toothless grin, as if spectacularly pleased with himself.

  It was going to be a long-ass afternoon.

  I was going to be late to the wedding.

  I stared at the sea of red brake lights and leaned on the horn impatiently, glaring in frustration at the ten-car pileup in front of me. Lauren and Hadley were going to kill me and this was all Ben’s fault. Not that I’d throw my best friend under the bus on his wedding day, but how the hell did these things happen to us?

  At the next exit, I got off the highway and zigzagged through a bunch of back roads, speeding across school zones and residential areas because I was running out of time. If they had to delay the wedding because the best man hadn’t shown up, I would never hear the end of it. I pressed harder on the gas pedal.

  After what seemed like an eternity, I skidded into the parking lot of the church, turned off the car, and ran inside.

  “Where have you been?” Nash demanded, meeting me just inside the doors. “Ben’s about to have a heart attack.”

  “There was an accident on the highway.” I huffed out as I smoothed down the lapels of my tux and took a breath.

  “You got the ring?”

  “Yeah.” I patted my pocket. “Fuck, I could use a bottle of water. I’m dying.”

  “I’ll run and grab you one. I think they’re about to start everything. You literally got back in the nick of time.”

  “Thanks, man.” I’d just started to breathe normally again when I heard her. Oh, yeah, Hadley had been waiting for me, so I steeled myself before slowly turning around.

  “About fucking time.” She was walking down the hall in my direction looking hotter than Hades in her skintight bridesmaid’s dress, but it was the look on her face that made me start to sweat all over again. Jesus, she was pissed and since I couldn’t tell her Ben was the one who’d forgotten the ring, I was going to have to stand here and take it.

  “There was an accident—” I began.

  “Save it. This was such a dick move, Kirby. You do realize it’s their wedding day, right? And that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

  “I know that!” I snapped. “I can’t control traffic, lady. Give it a rest, will you?”

  “Lauren’s been in a total panic and it’s my job to keep everything running smoothly. You just about single-handedly ruined everything!”

  “Well, if you have the power to control traffic, you should have!” I turned my back on her and headed toward the room where Ben and the rest of the groomsmen were waiting, but she wouldn’t let up. Her high heels made a click-click-click noise on the tiled floor as she followed me.

  “Okay, I get it,” I said, picking up speed and hoping she’d go away. “I was late but I’m here now and everything’s fine.”

  “I truly don’t understand how someone as reliable and considerate as Ben has you for a best friend.”

  “And I can’t understand how someone as sweet and thoughtful as Lauren has a shrew for a best friend.” I opened the door to where the other guys were, stepped inside, and then closed it in her face. That probably pissed her off even more, but I needed to calm down a little before we got this party started.

  Ben met my gaze across the room and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  “You owe me,” I called to him.

  “Did Hadley ream you a new one?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “I’ll tell her what happened and—”

  “Forget it. You’re the groom. You don’t have to think about anything but that beautiful woman you’re about to marry. I can take one for the team and handle Hadley.”

  Nash snorted out a laugh as he handed me a bottle of cold water. “From where I’m standing, you can’t handle her at all.”

  “Just the sound of her voice makes my dick shrivel,” I admitted.

  “You two are definitely oil and water,” Ben said, shaking his head. “But really, she’s worked incredibly hard to make today perfect for Lauren and I, so don’t judge her too harshly. She doesn’t know the real reason you were late, which makes her think you aren’t taking today seriously.”

  I downed the whole bottle of water and tossed it into the recycling bin.

  “Look, it’s over and done. Let’s go out there and do this.”

  Ben held up his fist and bumped it against mine.

  “Thanks again,” he said quietly. “You saved my ass.”

  “That’s what friends are for, right?”

  “You and me until the end.” Ben pulled me into a quick hug, slapping me on the back.

  “Damn straight.”

  The locker room is a sacred place. As a team, when we’re in there, in some ways it’s even more important than when we’re on the ice. This was where we talked, planned, strategized, laughed, cried, and bonded. The vibe was different than when we were playing, because the one-on-one interaction wasn’t just hockey oriented, but tonight it was quiet, the usual pregame energy noticeably absent. Instead of playful banter and lighthearted bickering, most of the guys were looking down, or staring out at nothing at all. It was like a freakin’ funeral in here.

  The league had postponed our last game because of the funeral, and even though we’d just buried our team captain, the show, so to speak, had to go on. The Mavericks’ head of PR had locked out the press before the game tonight, so the public wouldn’t get a glimpse into how we were handling our grief, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  As an alternate captain, along with Nash, a lot of the responsibility of raising everyone’s spirits fell to me since Nash usually dealt with on-ice issues, like talking to the refs. The problem was that I had no emotional bandwidth left. I was battling a wave of grief so intense that it was hard to breathe sometimes, and after spending the whole day putting out one child-related fire after another, I was physically and mentally exhausted.

  There was no such thi
ng in hockey, though. You battled through everything—injuries, grief, family drama, whatever it was. We didn’t have the option of time off in fucking January. We were also having an incredible season, leading the league in wins, points, and goals scored. If we could win one more, we’d break Pittsburgh’s record of seventeen wins in a row, but I didn’t know how we’d do that on a night like tonight.

  Hell, I didn’t know any fucking thing right now. I didn’t know how I’d survive without my best friend. I didn’t know how the hell I was going to raise his two babies. And I really didn’t know how I’d get on the ice every night trying to lead this team like he did—because no one could do that. Ben was the whole damn package. Smart, skilled, and a leader in every sense of the word. He could mentor the rookies, bond with the veterans, and talk a guy in a scoring slump off the ledge. Even the refs loved him.

  I had neither the patience nor the people skills Ben had, so while I was a leader because of my scoring ability and experience, I didn’t do as well with the serious one-on-one chats with teammates. If I were honest, I probably could do it, but had never been in a position where I had to. Until now.

  “Listen up, boys.” Our head coach, Malcolm “Grizzly” Gizzard, came in and shut the door behind him. He scratched the long, bushy beard that had given him his nickname, and looked around, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t have a pep talk for you tonight. I don’t have scoring tips or threats or promises. Basically, all I’ve got are facts. Fact one. We’re on a seventeen-game win streak and we’ll break Pittsburgh’s record if we can win it tonight. Fact two. We’re in first place overall in the league by a long way, which bodes well for our playoff chances. I don’t know how to get past this game, the first one without Ben. So all I’m going to say is to play it for Ben. Play hard. Play smart. Dig deep. Don’t let all the background noise get inside your heads. Now let’s go.”

  We all got to our feet but there was a heavy weight dragging us down. I could see it in the way the guys moved, the downcast expressions on their faces, even their body language. It was a reflection of my own mood, so I understood it, but this wasn’t good for team morale. We had a lot at stake both personally and professionally, and we couldn’t just roll over like this. Ben would be pissed.

 

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