The Final Move

by Victoria Denault

  “Fuck off.”

  “Callie, if you say, ‘I love Devin Garrison’ out loud—right now—then I will back off. I won’t bother you ever again. You can live your life alone, without my brother, and sleep with whomever you want. I’ll set you up with all of my teammates. And most importantly, I will never say a derogatory thing about you that will upset Jessie ever again,” he promises.

  “That’s a fucking lie,” I retort and run my hands through my hair. I feel a wave of panic rise up in me and I don’t know why.

  He raises one of his giant hands like he’s taking an oath. “If I am lying, may I never win another Stanley Cup again.”

  “Whoa,” I hear from the doorway and look over to see Luc has joined Rosie and is also eavesdropping. “That’s serious, Cal. He’s serious.”

  I jerk my head in that direction and point, even though Jordan can’t see them. “I said I love you all like brothers. Why the fuck isn’t that enough? I don’t hear you confessing your love to anyone but Jessie ever. Because it’s stupid.”

  “Hey! Luc!” Jordan calls out.

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you, bro.”

  “Aw…” Luc bursts out laughing. “You’re such a chick.”

  “I love you,” Jordan calls out again loudly like he’s almost singing it. I want to punch my fist through the screen.

  Luc is still laughing. “Whatever. I love you too. You and your vagina.”

  I’m fuming. I’m so angry I’m almost delirious from it. “This is fucking stupid. You’re a piece of shit.”

  “Callie,” Rosie warns me. “What’s the big deal?”

  “Yeah, Callie, I mean like I said, you say I love you to Jessie and Rosie all the time and they’re sisters. I just said I love my moronic immature best friend,” Jordan states, and I see Luc flipping his middle finger at the laptop from the corner of my eye. “So if you love us like brothers, just say, ‘I love you.’ I promise I will stop hating you.”

  “I love you, Jordan, you stupid jerk-off.”

  “Great. Right back at ya, bitch,” he replies with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. “Now say you love Devin.”

  “Oh my fucking God, you’re a fucking idiot!” I scream.

  No one says a word for a long moment. I take a deep breath and roll my eyes and try to swallow down all the emotions roaring inside me like freight trains headed right for each other.

  “I love him.”

  “Who?”

  “You fucking little…” My chest tightens. “I love Devin.”

  My breath catches in my throat. My eyes instantly fill with tears. I feel like I might choke—like those emotions I swallowed down are actual solid objects. My heart starts to hammer. I might pass out. A sob breaks from my lips suddenly like an errant hiccup and I cover my mouth with a shaky hand. “I love Devin.”

  Jordan’s smile turns from confident and annoying to satisfied and sympathetic.

  “And there you go,” he says, like he just solved a particularly hard sudoku or explained why the sky is blue or something.

  I start to cry. I can’t stop. And it’s not a pretty cry. It’s a full-on messy, meltdown cry. Rose rushes to my side and wraps her arms around me. Through my blurry vision I see Jessie pop into view next to Jordan on the laptop.

  “I love Devin. I love him,” I repeat in a stunned panic. “I love him so much.”

  “We know,” Jordan says casually, not at all disturbed by my tears, which I want to find perplexing, but I am too much of a mess. “But he doesn’t know.”

  “Why the fuck would you do this to me?” I sob as Rose pets my hair.

  “Because I knew if you just said it out loud, you’d be forced to admit it to yourself,” he says happily as he pulls Jessie down on his lap. “When we were kids and Jessie left me, I lost it. I ran from my feelings. I was too young to deal with it, but you’re an adult, Callie. You’ve been an adult since you were a kid, thanks to your shitty parental problems. And adults face their fears and go for what they want in life. So fucking stop sobbing and go tell my brother you love him.”

  I take a deep, almost-calming breath and nod shakily.

  “Go fast,” Luc warns seriously. “He’s supposed to spend tonight with Ashleigh.”

  My heart plummets.

  “Not because he wants to but because she wants to—and because he thinks you’re not going to love him,” Luc adds hastily. “Callie, you need to get your ass over there.”

  I stare at nothing in particular and blink my eyes. He’s with Ashleigh. I have actually driven him back to her. I thought I wanted that and I got it. I may have ruined my own life. Broken my own heart.

  “He loves you too, Callie,” Jordan assures me as Jessie beams lovingly at him and plays with his moppy blond locks. “And he deserves you as much as you deserve him.”

  “I am so going to have sex with you right now,” Jessie announces giddily.

  “Gotta go!” Jordan blurts out, grinning, and then Skype goes black as he logs out.

  Rosie pulls me off the bed and to my feet. “Come on! Let’s get you dressed and cleaned up ASAP.”

  I let her pull me to the bathroom.

  “Are you sure?” I ask her when we’re alone in the bathroom and she’s pulling out my makeup case.

  “Yes! Callie, he loves you. You love him!” she tells me urgently, her eyes wide. “I know why our childhood would make you believe unconditional love isn’t something that happens to you. But it happened, Callie. You’ve got the chance to be loved by someone who loves you back and will love you back forever. Go for it! You deserve to be happy, Cal. I swear to God you do!”

  I take a deep breath and wipe my eyes. “I have to go.”

  Before Rose can put makeup on me, I charge out of the bathroom, out of my bedroom, grab my jacket off the coat rack and run out the door.

  Chapter 57

  Devin

  I’m shifting from the ball of one foot to the other nervously as I stand in the living room window, waiting for the car service to drop Ash and Conner off from the airport. She told me to meet her at her place—our old place. I’d spent ten minutes trying to remember where I’d put the keys. It is weird being here without her. If I’m honest, it is just weird to be here in general. Ashleigh hasn’t changed anything since I moved out—everything looks exactly the same but somehow it doesn’t feel the same. This house is no longer my home.

  When we bought this place, our first married year, Ash was so excited. She thought it was a palace. It had been gutted and redone with the best finishes like the marble counters and dark hardwood floors. To be honest, at first the space seemed a little cold to me, but I loved the fact that it made her so happy. The longer I lived in the brownstone, the more it felt like a perfect fit—especially after Conner was born. I loved to come home from a long road trip to a living room full of toys, and everything in what Ashleigh referred to as “chaos” because, after growing up in a tiny house with three other boys, that’s what love looked like to me. It wasn’t pristine or refined; it was sloppy, loud and real. Which is why I had such trouble in my rental before Callie came along. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but just like Conner needed things to make him feel at home, I needed her. Callie was loud and messy and…Callie was love.

  I sigh and stare at my winter jacket hanging on the banister in the hall. Tucked into the inside pocket are the terms of our divorce. My intention is to go over it with Ash tonight, and if all goes well, the paperwork will be filed by the end of the week.

  I sigh. I still don’t have Callie but that doesn’t mean I should go back to Ashleigh. I try to push Callie from my mind just as a town car slows to a stop at the curb. I stride to the hall and pull open the front door, eager to see my son.

  As the driver struggles to pull Ashleigh’s three oversize, overstuffed suitcases out of his trunk, I march over to Ashleigh, who is climbing out of the backseat. Her head spins and I see a stern frown covering her whole face. Her eyes lock with mine and the disdain becomes mixed with re
lief.

  “I’ve been trying your cell and you didn’t answer. I thought maybe you forgot us,” Ashleigh admits as I reach her.

  “I have my phone on silent. We had a team meeting and I guess I forgot to turn it back on,” I explain and dig it out of my back pocket. I see her missed call and shake my head, taking it off silent mode. “Sorry about that.”

  I lean into the back of the car. Conner sleepily opens his eyes, says “Daddy” and reaches for me. I take him out of the car seat and lift him into my arms.

  “A team meeting? On New Year’s Eve?” she says, not hiding the annoyance in her voice.

  “Yes. We’re struggling to make the play-offs, Ash. Management thought we could use a bit of a pep talk,” I tell her, trying not to be annoyed at her clear annoyance.

  “Well, I’m just glad you’re here now,” she says and I can literally see her force her face into a serene smile.

  She reaches up and gives me a hug, which is awkward with Conner in my arms. I gently hand him over to her and turn to pay the driver. She carries our son inside as the driver leaves and I haul her bags up the steps and into the house.

  “How was the rest of your time in Silver Bay?” I ask casually as I carefully pile her bags in the corner of the hall next to the stairs.

  She starts to chat about her parents, the snow, Conner’s adventures on the outdoor ice rinks, my parents, and on and on and on. I’m not completely interested in what she’s saying but I do appreciate having her to talk to. It’s been so long since I have had simple, inane conversation, and I can’t believe how comforting it is.

  “So I thought I would fix us some dinner,” Ashleigh says quietly. “Maybe watch a movie? I just have to head to the store.”

  I nod. “How about dinner and maybe we can talk after Con goes to bed?”

  “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  Fifteen minutes later we’re walking through the grocery store aisles together. Conner, who is tired and cranky, is in my arms again, trying to sleep as he clings to my neck. Ashleigh happily pushes the shopping cart as she loads it with fresh veggies, milk, steaks and cheese.

  We move into another aisle to grab some of Conner’s favorite yogurt snacks and almost run cart-to-cart into Loops, his wife, Tara, and their son, Henry, who is cooing happily in his BabyBjörn strapped to the front of his dad.

  “Devin!” my goalie says in a shocked voice.

  “Hey,” I say and feel instantly uncomfortable.

  Tara smiles at me and gives Ashleigh a tight smile and a short nod. The two women have never been close, which has always bothered me. Loops is one of my best friends on the team and Tara is just a doll. She often coordinates events and charity work for the wives and I’ve never been able to figure out why the two don’t get along. But I blame the tension as the reason Ashleigh rarely participates in the team’s charity work.

  “You two doing New Year’s together?” Loops can’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.

  I nod firmly and smile as big as I can. “Yep. Just a lazy night in as a family. How about you guys?”

  “Yeah, we’re taking it easy.” Loops nods and looks down at his perky, pretty wife who grins and blushes. “Tara is feeling a little nauseous.”

  Conner stirs in my arms and I pat his back to settle him down as I watch Tara put a hand on her stomach, and for the first time I notice a small bump on the usually fit woman.

  “We’re having another one,” Loops says happily.

  “Man, that’s great!” I say excitedly and I mean it. I lean forward and give him a clumsy hug—as best we can with two kids in between us. Ashleigh plasters a smile across her face. “That’s amazing, Tara. So great for you! Congrats!”

  “Thank you, Ashleigh.” Tara smiles appreciatively. “It’s a little sooner than we’d planned, but we’re just thrilled.”

  “We want three or four so might as well crank ’em out quickly!” Loops announces and laughs. Tara laughs with her husband, her face beaming.

  I laugh too, but it’s not nearly as merry. Ashleigh is just standing there with her overly bright smile.

  “Well, happy New Year, guys!” I say, and they say it back, and we continue in different directions.

  “Do you want spaghetti or penne?” Ashleigh asks as we approach the pasta aisle.

  On the short walk home we keep our talk on anything but our encounter in the store with Loops and his pregnant wife. It’s almost painfully obvious we’re talking around it. When we get home, Ashleigh heads straight to the kitchen to cook up dinner and I deal with an overly tired, super cranky Conner.

  He whines and cries the entire time no matter what I do. It’s frustrating but at least it takes my mind off how weird I feel being back in this house. This house Ashleigh and I painstakingly picked as our dream house—the place where we would live, laugh and love together as we grew old. Once again I miss the rental brownstone I used to dread. I miss Callie in the townhouse with me bringing it to life—filling it with delectable aromas and wild laughter. Ashleigh just doesn’t have the fire that Callie has. Ashleigh simply has a more restrained personality than Callie. I used to love how serene and mellow Ashleigh seemed, but now…well, I would sell my soul for a little Fleetwood Mac and errant cake batter all over the appliances.

  “Ashleigh, do you have any snacks he can have?” I call from the family room, where Conner is whining and throwing his Duplo blocks at the wall. “I think he’s hungry.”

  “Dinner is in a half hour! He has to wait.”

  “Come on, just some carrot sticks or something,” I call back. “He’s exhausted and probably won’t even make it to dinner. Let’s give him something and settle him into bed.”

  She turns to look at me from where she is stirring the pasta on the stove. “Fine. Fine. Give him a yogurt and some raw veggies. But now his sleep pattern will be messed up and you’ll be the one who has to get up with him tomorrow morning. I need my beauty sleep.”

  She winks at me, grinning. I smile back and grab some baby carrots and a tiny yogurt cup out of the fridge. I try not to act shocked when I realize that her jovial comment means she expects me to be here in the morning.

  Almost an hour later, I head back downstairs after putting Conner to sleep. Our dinner is warming in the oven and she frowns as she pulls it out.

  “It’s probably ruined now,” she huffs as she brings it to the table. “Dammit!”

  I start uncorking the wine and lean over and stare down at the steaks, Parmesan pasta and steamed broccoli. “It looks great. Don’t worry about it. I’m so hungry I’d eat a horse.”

  She gives me a small smile but I can tell she’s still bothered by it. “I think he might be coming down with a cold. He’s been fussy for a few days.”

  “He’ll be okay,” I reply and the cork comes out of the bottle of Merlot with a loud pop.

  She stares at me as I fill her wineglass and then she suddenly reaches up and presses her lips to mine. The kiss shocks me. My instincts kick in and all I want to do is shove her away—jump back like I’ve been assaulted, like her lips are causing me physical pain. But she’s the mother of my only child, so I pull back and gently but firmly push her away.

  “What was that for?” I can’t help but ask as we both sit down at the table across from each other.

  “For being you,” she says simply. I reach for my wineglass and take a big sip.

  “So Loops and Tara are having another one,” I say as I cut into my steak, which is a little tough. “Henry is barely one year old.”

  Ashleigh shakes her head and frowns. “Tara is going to regret that. Conner was so much work once he was a toddler. I can’t imagine having an infant to breastfeed, change and burp and deal with on top of that.”

  “I’m sure she’ll do fine,” I say confidently. “Lots of moms handle it.”

  “Lots of moms have dads to help them. Tara doesn’t,” Ashleigh reminds me in a low voice and it makes my muscles tense. “Mitchell is gone all the time.”

  She glances up
at me and must see my disdain because her long face softens and she shrugs. “Maybe they’ll hire a nanny. That would help.”

  “My mom raised all three of us and did just fine without a nanny,” I counter quietly and chew on a piece of broccoli, barely tasting it as I swallow it down. “My dad was out working on the blueberry farm sixteen hours a day and she did fine.”

  Ashleigh says nothing. Her face is expressionless and the air in the kitchen is suddenly cool. But I’m not backing down. I know what I want from a relationship—from life—and I’m not ashamed of it. “Ashleigh, I want more kids.”

  She puts down her fork and raises her face to me. “Fine.”

  I blink. “Fine?”

  She shrugs and nods. “Fine. Let’s have another kid.”

  We stare at each other across the table. Her face is so stoic and resigned, like she’s just agreed to live in Siberia for the next fourteen years.

  “Ash…” I swallow and put down my fork and knife. “I wasn’t asking you to have them.”

  Her mouth falls open but suddenly the doorbell jingles followed by a loud, hard thump of a fist on the door. We both jump.

  “Are you expecting someone?” I ask skeptically.

  “No.”

  We both stand and make our way through the house and into the front foyer. I swing the door open, tense and unsure of what will greet me. When I see Callie’s tearstained face and giant, puffy parka over sweats with her giant brown Ugg boots, I almost smile. She’s a hot mess and that’s honestly how I love her best. But the fact that she is so disheveled and teary makes me worry something is terribly wrong with someone we love.

  “Callie…what’s wrong?” I ask cautiously. “Is everyone okay?”

  It’s a crazy moment where everyone I love flashes through my head. My mom, dad, Luc, Jordan, Cole, Rose, Jessie, Leah…Our lives—mine and Callie’s—are so completely linked that if anything happened to any of our loved ones, we’d both be affected dearly.

  “Everyone is fine,” she says in a shaky voice and glances over my shoulder at Ashleigh. “But I’m not fine. I need to talk to you. Alone.”