by KL Donn
“Stop jumping around like that!” Leah admonishes, a wide grin on her face as she looks down at my swollen stomach. “That poor baby’s getting all jumbled around in there!”
I look down, my engagement ring shimmering as I lay a hand over my expanding belly. We found out at Christmas we’re having a little girl. She’s due at the end of March. Perfect timing for all of us. Jasper has already decided to retire after this season, his dream of winning one more Super Bowl now achieved. He’s going to take a year off, then figure out what’s next for him. Most likely he’ll go into sports casting for one of the football networks. They’ve already been scouting him, rumors flying around about his retirement announcement.
We’re planning a June wedding. It will be enough time after the baby comes that hopefully my figure will be somewhat back to normal. Jasper wanted to get married the minute he found out I was pregnant again, but the last thing I wanted was a big belly under my wedding dress. We both decided an outside ceremony is what we wanted, and we’re trying to pull it off on the beach we visited the week we met. We’re not sure if there will be a dozen helicopters overhead, but so far, we think we’re keeping the location under wraps. It’s a whole new way of life trying to get used to being in a relationship with someone that’s recognized, but we’re adjusting. The flurry after the world discovered Jasper had a ‘love child’ was a bit overwhelming, but we made it through.
Jasper’s been jumping between Boston and New York during the entire season, but now that it’s over, we’re going to relocate to his home in California. We spent a lot of time there last summer, and Chase and I both fell in love with it there. I left my job at the end of the year, a little hesitant after working so hard to establish my career, but knowing in my heart it was the right thing for me. My family is my number one priority now. I’ve never been happier and know I can always go back if I decide that’s what I want. My mother obviously isn’t very happy that we’re relocating, but the California house is huge, and we’ve already set aside a room for her.
“Mommy, let’s go see Daddy!” Chase jumps up and down, one hand tugging at the sleeve of my jersey, as he pulls me toward the door.
“Okay, okay.” I take his hand, leading him out of the box we’re in, following his family down to the field. It’s complete chaos, everyone pushing and shoving as they try and reach the players on the team. I pull Chase a little closer, but then smile in relief when Jasper’s dad takes him and swings him up on his shoulders.
“Do you see your dad, Buddy?” He calls up to him through the roar of the crowd.
“I see him Poppa!” He wiggles around, excitement shining on his face, as he points in the direction we should go. “Right there!”
We all surge forward, finally breaking through the crowd into an inner circle. Jasper’s talking to a reporter, but stops as soon as he sees us, a wide smile lighting up his face. He says something to the man, then starts sprinting in our direction. I can’t help myself, and break into a run, launching myself into his arms, my future, and the beginning of our happily ever after.
The End
About Michelle Windsor
Michelle Windsor is a wife, mom, and a writer who lives North of Boston with her family. When she isn't writing, she's been known to partake in good wine and good food with her family and friends. She's a voracious reader, loves to hike with her German shepherd, Roman, enjoys a good romance movie and may be slightly obsessed with Outlander.
Faceoff
A Novella by Sophia Henry
Faceoff
by Sophia Henry
I was rocking the single dad thing, until my mom's sudden move to take care of my grandfather. When the most beautiful and outspoken woman at my daughter's daycare volunteers to be our live-in nanny, I want to say no, but I leave for training camp in two days, so I don’t have a choice. I knew our personalities would clash, but I didn’t expect a full-blown face-off.
Faceoff
A Chargers Hockey Novella
Copyright © 2019 by Sophia Henry
All rights reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.
“She made broken look beautiful and strong look invincible.”
~ Ariana Dancu
#BeKindLoveHard
1
SYLVAIN
“I’m so sorry to do this to you, Sylvain,” Mom says, shutting her trunk after I’ve gotten my second bag out.
“Mom.” I hold her shoulders still. “I know. I’m not mad.”
She touches my cheek and sighs. “I feel like I’m letting you down.”
While it sucks that she won’t be coming back to Charlotte, I can’t be angry with her. Her dying father begged her to stay. Or, rather, he guilted her into staying.
Because my daughter, Paige, and I spend every summer in Quebec City, my hometown, we’ve witnessed my grandfather’s health decline rapidly over the last few years. And that was because he didn’t take care of himself—smoking, drinking, terrible eating habits. It’s something I don’t understand.
As a professional hockey player, health is part of my life. Not saying I don’t have a few cocktails or indulge in artery-clogging food every once in a while, but for the most part—food is fuel.
Three months ago, Mom made him go to the doctor for the first time in I-don’t-know-how-many-years. They diagnosed him with stage four lung cancer and gave him six months to live, but if he lasts that long I’ll be surprised. There was no “Rah rah! We’re going to fight this!” talk. Once he found out, he gave up completely—refusing to discuss treatment of any kind. He almost seemed happy to resign himself to death.
When Paige and I said goodbye to him this morning, we were saying our final goodbye.
“We’ll miss our flight if you keep this up,” I warn my mother, as more travelers rush past. The longer this takes, the longer the lines get. I’m not being a dick, I just know my mom and her goodbyes are never short.
“I thought you were coming with us?” Paige whines.
I reach back and put my hand over her mouth, hoping Mom didn’t hear her. The last thing she needs on her plate is a guilt-trip from her only granddaughter.
“Daddy!” She mumbles against my hand. When her slimy tongue comes out, I withdraw quickly. After four years, I should know better.
“You’re nasty, kid,” I tell her, wiping my hand on my black, athletic shorts and turning up my lip with mock disgust.
“That wasn’t nice, Sylvain.” Mom slaps my arm. She drops to one knee and takes Paige’s face in her hands. “I’m going to miss you so much, Squishy! We’ll call each other every day, right?”
She nods—well, as much as she can when Mom’s got her head in a vice-grip.
After giving Mom one last hug, I take Paige’s hand and guide her toward the security line. When I turn around to wave, her cheeks are already wet with tears.
If I could stay, I would. She knows that. Leaving home always kills me, but my life isn’t in Quebec anymore and Paige’s has never been here. Though I’d love to raise her in this beautiful, historically- rich city, I don’t want her facing the same ignorance that I had to growing up.
It may not be as prevalent for hockey players as it is for a blue-collar-workers like my father, but I still faced discrimination and ridicule. There are people from other parts of Canada who hear my accent and immediately think I’m less intelligent than they are.
Once we’re on
the plane, I get Paige set up on her tablet, then I send out a mass email to friends in Charlotte who have kids to see if they had any recommendations for childcare, ideally a live-in nanny. At the end of the week, I leave for training camp in Raleigh and I have no clue what I’m going to do about Paige. Even if I bring her with me, I’ll still need someone to watch her while I’m working.
And as soon as those five days at camp are over, we go straight into pre-season games. I can’t take her on the road. Someone needs to be home with her.
Someone I can trust.
I hit send on the message and shove my phone into my front pocket. My stomach churns. I rest my elbows on my knees and lower my head into my hands.
How in the world am I going to find the person I need in three days?
2
EMMA
Walking in the doors of Explorer Academy, the day care facility I’ve worked at for the last five years, is so familiar it’s like walking into a second home. It feels as if I’ve just come back from a week vacation rather than a five-month medical leave.
Routine, comfort, and a paycheck are the only things I need to be happy right now.
Today, I came in to talk with Julie, the Director at Explorer, about coming back to work. I know there’s a job for me. It’s just a matter of where they need me and making sure my doctor approves the work load.
Originally, Dr. Patel did not give me the okay to go back to work, but after I plead my case and let her know how I literally could not feed myself or pay my bills anymore—she gave in. Neither of us had a choice. I ran out of money months ago, and I’ve been relying on my mother to keep afloat.
Every minute with her reminds me of why I worked my ass off to graduate high school early and get out of her house.
It’s drop-off time at the day care, so it’s been steadily busy all morning. Not the greatest time to talk to Jules about a job, but I thought if I got here early enough, I may be able to start right away.
I’ve been hanging out on the couch in the lobby, talking to kids and parents as they came through. Not gonna to lie, I feel like a celebrity.
Almost every single family welcomes with me with a hug and encouraging words. A few of them know why I was out for so long, despite me trying to keep it under wraps. There was an announcement when I left, but it didn’t say exactly why I was taking time off.
I knew people would be supportive—but they would also feel sorry for me. After being diagnosed with ovarian cancer at twenty-three-years-old, I didn’t want pity. I wanted to fight it and get back to normal.
I didn’t realize how silly that mindset was until I was in the hospital, recovering from surgery—which included removal of the cancerous tumors and a hysterectomy. At my sickest and lowest, I found myself wishing I had the encouragement and support of the wonderful motivational people in my life to remind me why I wanted to fight in the first place. Because honestly, there were days I barely had a voice let alone a battle cry.
Some Explorer parents needled around, persistent in their questions about why I was gone—which led to me to the decision to give Julie permission to tell a few select people. The response was overwhelming and absolutely beautiful.
When the gifts started rolling in, I was flooded with embarrassment and I immediately regretted my choice. But after seeing all the handmade cards from the kids, gift cards to my favorite stores, food delivered to my home, even money—I swallowed my pride and accepted the help with gratefulness and appreciation.
I honestly couldn’t believe how many people wanted to help in whatever way they could. Some families even visited me in the hospital or at home. The outpouring of love and support from the Explorer community lifted my spirits to huge heights.
I’m grateful for this community and everyone in it.
Well, almost everyone.
Sylvain Bergeron bursts through the door to the lobby after dropping off his daughter, Paige. A worn, black Charlotte Chargers baseball cap casts a shadow over his eyes, but there’s no hiding his good looks.
“Hey Julie! Can you ask around and see if any of the girls here know someone who might want to be a live-in nanny for the next two weeks?” he asks in a French-Canadian accent that makes almost every single straight female in this place cream her jeans.
I’m the exception.
To me, it comes across snooty and arrogant. Like he thinks he’s better than everyone else.
“Are you trying to poach my employees, Mr. Bergeron?” Julie asks, tilting her head.
“No.” He leans on the counter, waving her worry away with a flick of his wrist. “But I don’t know how to go about finding a nanny—especially at such short notice. I thought asking people here if they had any referrals would be good place to start before searching the internet.”
He’s got my full attention now. But not for the usual reasons—the sexy five-o’clock shadow dusting a perfectly chiseled jaw, the Crest-commercial smile, the muscles popping out of his tight t-shirt. He’s talking about a job—something I need desperately. More desperately than the things I tell him I need in the x-rated fantasies that roll through my head about him.
“Please don’t search the internet for a live-in nanny,” Julie pleads with a laugh. Her eyes flick to his strong forearm resting on the counter. “I’ll ask around to people I know.” She pulls a notebook out of the second drawer of her desk. “Give me a bit more detail. You said two weeks to start? Is there a possibility for ongoing? Job duties? What’s the pay rate?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He nods in understanding. “Ideally, I need a full time live-in for the entire season, since my mother will no longer be living with us here. She’ll have her own bedroom and bathroom, but will share common spaces with me and Paige.” He readjusts his hat, rustling the dark blond locks flipping out of the back and sides as he thinks of tasks he may be forgetting. “Light cooking, maybe some housekeeping—cleaning up after the day, ya know?”
“Sure,” Julie nods, lifting her eyes from the notepad she’s been scribbling on. “Cooking for you and Paige or just meals for her?”
“Just Paige. I pre-make all my meals for the week and she gets pretty bored with chicken and vegetables every night.” He laughs and flashes her a smile.
Okay, his smile makes me melt. And the accent might be a little bit charming.
“My schedule over the next two weeks is really crazy, but it’s actually a good idea of what the job will be like, so they’ll be able to decide if they can handle it and I can see if the person will be a good fit for us.”
“Okay.” She nods.
“And I need someone who can leave on Wednesday for five days in Raleigh.”
“Wednesday?” Julie lifts her head. “As in, two days from today?”
Sylvain nods. “The compensation will be based on a $75,000 yearly salary.”
When I hear that, I almost fall off the couch.
Even Julie can’t keep her surprise a secret, eyes widening when he drops the salary amount. I’ve never made over $25,000 a year in any of the five years I’ve been at Explorer Academy. And I’m what they call “third-in-command”—the person in charge after the Director and Assistant Director. Which means: extra responsibility without extra pay.
$75,000 a year would change my life.
Even though I love this place and all the people I work with, knowing I’m going back to a job that pays $10.50-an-hour has been weighing on my mind heavily. That kind of pay was fine before my diagnosis because I live pretty simply. But I’ve racked up so much medical debt, I can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.
If I go back to working at the daycare, the only option for my future is biting the bullet and filing for bankruptcy, then using the next ten years of my life to build my credit back up.
I’ve been racking my brain, trying to figure out how I can earn more. The only thing I can think of is taking on a second job. After wrangling toddlers for eight to nine hours, my body won’t be able to handle that kind of physical and mental strain.
“I’m interested,” I interject, jumping up quickly to stand next to him. I refuse to give him an opportunity to look down on me.
“Not you.” He dismisses me without so much as a glance.
Someone else might be offended, but after three years butting heads with him, I’m used to it. I’m also used to pushing through absolutely any challenge I’ve faced.
I set my hot pink, insulated coffee tumbler on the high-top counter above the reception desk. He eyes it with disdain.
“But—"
“Nope.” He knocks on the counter twice to get Julie’s attention again. “If you know of anyone who would be a good fit, please call me. I leave for training camp in two days and I have no clue what I’m going to do.”
I can’t quite figure out why his contempt for me is just as thick as it was before my time off. I thought having a five-month break would mellow our interactions. But the air between us still sizzles as if I never left.
This is my chance.
I refuse to let him leave without at least hearing me out on why I’m the perfect person for his live-in nanny position.
Paige and I get along really well and it would give me the chance to get her behavior on the right track. There’s only so much I can do as her teacher. If the parents don’t continue at home—setting expectations, using redirection, and positive discipline—anything I do here is useless. And Sylvain is one of those parents who thinks his wild-child daughter is a princess who can do no wrong, so I doubt she has much structure at home.
Plus, how great would it be to have a place to live rent-free that isn’t the nasty house my mother shares with her boyfriend?