The twin sets of blue locked in a dreamy, enchanted gaze. It was like watching a damned soap opera—a relationship that had no right to be. An old story, maybe the oldest.
“Mr. Volynsky.” Lucas shook his hand. “Always good to see you.”
A charming liar. Alex had given him no reason to enjoy his company.
“I’m going to start bringing stuff out,” Anya called over her shoulder from the doorway. Hannah trailed her with too much enthusiasm into the house. A set-up.
“Good to see you too,” Alex said. “She’s eager to go.”
Lucas, chuckling, glanced at the space where she’d been standing. “I know you don’t exactly approve of our relationship, but she’s done more for me than I can tell you.”
“Why my daughter, Lucas?” Alex took half a step back but kept his gaze locked on the boy in cautious assessment. “Someone five years younger than you. You can’t even have a drink with her.”
Emotions gathered in his eyes and he turned his head, aware of Alex’s silent evaluation. “Fair question. Anya inspired me to go after my dream again. She’s been the only person able to do that, and it’s no easy feat after what’s been a pretty bad couple of years for me.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know what else to say, except that she’s beautiful, smart, driven…and I admire her.”
“I don’t mean to embarrass you. I only ask because she’s…” Alex rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest. “She’s all I have left of my wife. I want her to be as happy as I hope her mother was with me.”
“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.” Lucas plucked at a bracelet of dark beads around his wrist. “My little sister. Car accident. I think it must’ve been a couple months before your wife died.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the sidewalk. Different circumstances but the same pain.
It would be a process, but Alex’s heart opened a bit more to the idea of Lucas as a fixture in his life. “I’m sorry, Lucas.”
“Thank you. I love Anya, sir, and we’ll take good care of each other. I promise.”
“Well.” Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “I suppose we shouldn’t let them do all the work. And Lucas?”
The boy lifted his gaze with hesitancy, as though expecting Alex to change his mind and toss him down the sidewalk.
“Don’t call me ‘sir’ again.”
He let out a hearty laugh, a release of tension like a held breath.
“Call me Sasha. All my friends do.”
“Thanks. Sasha.” Lucas’s features softened. That it meant so much to him was a sure sign he’d committed to a future with Anya, whether or not he’d expressed as much to her yet. Whether or not he knew it himself.
Evidently, Anya planned to store half her belongings at Lucas’s apartment, given what Alex remembered of the twelve-by-sixteen dorm room crammed with two desks, two single beds, two dressers, and two closets. After they arranged the last boxes in the back of the van, they shared a lunch of pizza and wings. Anything he could do to postpone the inevitable. Alex caught himself staring at her a couple times, his heart breaking and yet swelling with pride that he was half-responsible for creating this beautiful young woman. Stephanie’s enduring legacy.
The moment arrived despite his protests. Lucas shook his hand again and climbed into the driver’s seat. Hannah hung back. They both understood the significance of this occasion.
And so did Anya, who regardless of her earlier excitement had broken into sobs.
“Baby.” Alex gathered her to him. She pressed her damp face to his neck. “You call me anytime, ladno? And I’ll bring the Mercedes up soon.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
He closed his eyes. Hot tears cut down his cheeks. “I love you too, baby. You’re going to—what is the word? Slay.”
“Dad.” She giggled. “Don’t ever say that again.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Have a safe trip, and call me as soon as you get there.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to go.”
Alex held her at arm’s length and looked her straight in the eye. “You are. Before you know it, you won’t want to come home at all. You and Lucas will have a life together. Now go. I’ll be at every game. And if you want to fly home for Columbus Day weekend, let me know.”
She nodded and swiped at her cheeks, then at his. “Mom was happy with you. She adored you. And so do I.”
He pushed down a second surge of tears. “That’s all I ever needed.” Alex drew her close again. He needed her to keep that smile. He began to sing in an overblown falsetto her current most-hated pop song.
Anya shook against him, but this time it was with laughter. “You are completely ridiculous.” She lifted her tearstained face so he could kiss each cheek. “Bye, Daddy.”
Inside the van, Lucas enfolded her in his arms. Then he tipped up her chin, and Alex lip-read “I love you.” She kissed him and buckled her seatbelt. Lucas honked the horn, and Anya waved as they backed out of the driveway until Alex could no longer see her.
He stared back at the house, his throat tight and his chest aching. His baby girl off to college. His family’s home for sale. The world he’d known and the people who had populated it had moved on. Now was the opportunity to linger in the life he and Stephanie had invested so much time building, because all too soon, he’d walk through the house one last time. A blank canvas for a new family, decorated with their memories and concealing his in a fresh coat of paint. What was once here reduced to echoes. Alex sank onto the trimmed lawn and crossed his legs Indian-style, a million thoughts banging around in his skull like a belligerent drunk.
Hannah crouched beside him, one arm around him. “Just take a minute.”
“Forty-five years old. And starting over again.” He scrubbed his hands down his face and dragged out a bitter laugh.
“But not alone.”
Alex tilted up his head. After taking care of his girls, maybe he could let someone take care of him again. Nothing scared Hannah—not his illness or his love for a woman he’d buried nearly two years ago, or his uncertainty of their future together. He needed her kind of strength right now. And with their kids in college, they had few distractions but each other. A real opportunity to figure out where they were and where they planned to be.
He cupped her cheek and closed his mouth over hers. Whatever lay before them, he was more than willing to go along for the ride.
THE END
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Acknowledgments
The National Hockey League, Hockey with Heart, Christine Tovey, A Kiss at Midnight Reviews, Alpha Book Club, Jessica Loring, Zachery Bergquist, Lauren Hart, and Eric Lindros.
About the Author
Jennifer Loring has been, among other things, a DJ, an insurance claims assistant, and an editor. Her short fiction has been published widely both online and in print; she has worked with Crystal Lake Publishing, DarkFuse, and Crowded Quarantine, among many others. Longer work most notably includes the contemporary/sports romance series The Firebird Trilogy and the psychological horror novella Conduits. She lives in Philadelphia, PA with her husband, their turtle, and two basset hounds.
Facebook:
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Website:
http://jennifertloring.com/
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1493991.Jennifer_Loring
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The Pieces Of Us (The Firebird Trilogy Book 3) Page 24