Cross Drop

by Elizabeth Hartey

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I’m okay.” I assure him. I don’t want him to leave but he looks like he needs about a week’s worth of rest himself.

  “She’ll be fine,” the nurse says. “Her doctor is on his way. Why don’t you give a call to her family and let them know she’s awake? It’s the middle of the night but they’ll want to know. And then you might want to try to get some rest yourself before we have to start taking care of you as well.”

  “I don’t need rest. I’m not leav—”

  “You’ll have a few hours to rest up before you can see her again.” Nurse Rachel must be a strong little thing because when she pushes Dalt toward the door, the wall of hockey muscle actually moves. “She’s in good hands and she’ll be right here when you get back. Go take care of yourself.”

  “I’ll call your mom and Matt and I’ll be back soon,” Dalt says to me over his shoulder as the nurse closes the door behind him.

  “He’s relentless, isn’t he? I think if he read Cat In The Hat one more time something was going to go bump and make us all jump when he passed out in complete exhaustion and fell off his chair right here in this room.” Rachel chuckles. “But all his reading must have worked its magic because here you are.”

  “Reading?”

  “That boy must have sat here and read every classic children’s book ever written three times over. Did you see the stack of books he brought in?” She points to a pile of books in the corner of the room. “He told us you’re going to be a famous writer of children’s books yourself one day.”

  I smile at Dalt’s confidence in my writing abilities. Now I realize it was his voice I heard reading to me, pulling me out of the murky darkness.

  “It was sweet, really. You’re a lucky girl to have a guy love you so much he didn’t want to leave your side for a minute.” Rachel removes an IV tube from my arm.

  “Yes. I am.” Every muscle in my body unwinds in simultaneous relief. This time when I close my eyes it’s to relax into a comforted slumber.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-THREE

  Nikki

  Two Months Later

  “You are the most gorgeous bride I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes glistening, Trace wraps me in a tight hug. “You’re like a nineteen forties Hollywood goddess.”

  “Thanks.” We exchange cheek kisses. “You’re next, skater girl.”

  “We’ll see.” The mischievous gleam in her eyes tells me this isn’t the first time the subject of her and Dak getting married has come up. “I’m beyond happy for you guys, Nik. And Chloe is so perfect and beautiful. By the way, I totally knew she was Dalt’s when I saw your drawings. She’s like his Mini Me.”

  “Is that so? And yet you didn’t say one word. It’s not like the Tracey I know to keep her opinions to herself, especially when she knows she’s right.” I smirk at my sweet best friend.

  “Okay, I didn’t know.” She shrugs and flips a piece of my waved hair behind my shoulder. “But my little Godbaby is still the most beautiful baby on the planet.”

  When Dalt and I asked Dak and Tracey to be Chloe’s Godparents, I don’t think Tracey stopped squealing in glee for a full week.

  Trace walks behind me and bends to straighten the train of my fitted Vera Wang wedding dress. Standing, she primps the draped silk piece which wraps around my hips and gathers at the bottom of the deep cut out opening at the base of my spine.

  She sighs. “You’re perfect.”

  I had no intention of buying the ridiculously expensive vintage gown when I found it online. I was merely trying to find someone who could match the style in a knockoff version of the V-neck trumpet silhouette silk dress. I knew the antique beaded straps were going to be impossible to copy but I figured I could find something to make it work.

  I made the mistake of letting Dalt come with me to the dressmaker. When he realized what I was trying to do, he insisted the only dress I should have was the original. He made some panty melting remark like, “You’re my one of a kind, totally original, beautiful girl and you should have a one of a kind original dress.” When I pointed out the absurd price, he reiterated the money is no object speech. Two days later the dress showed up on my doorstep, Fed Ex delivery. Seriously. Is he the perfect man or what? Now here I am, all Vera Wanged out in my figure hugging white silk gown.

  There’s barely any limp to my gait as I walk holding onto Matt’s arm toward the gazebo set on the banks of our lake. Chloe, Tracey, and Alex are in front of us. Chloe looks like a living doll in her A-line, tea length, mini Vera Wang, peach color dress. It has a satin scoop neck top with a matching sash tied around the waist into a large bow, and of course several layers of full tulle on the bottom. Tracey has to bend down every few steps and remind Chloe to keep throwing rose petals from her basket because Chloe is too busy spinning in her new ballerina dress to remember.

  Tracey is exquisite in her peach Vera Wang strapless, chiffon column dress; not vintage but every bit as stunning. My mom made me promise I wouldn’t pick any “atrocious Goth color like purple or black for a maid of honor dress.” Her exact words. I had no intention of picking a so-called Goth color for the dress, but I love her like crazy so I let her believe the peach chiffon was her idea.

  The day couldn’t be more picture-perfect. The sky is the color blue an artist would use to paint a crystal-clear horizon on a June day. In fact, as I gaze across the setting in front of me, I’d say the whole scene might have been the inspiration for a Monet painting if he lived in Maine: pink water lilies floating on the lake, purple and yellow irises along the bank, and summer wildflowers popping up throughout the fields. The warm breeze blowing across the grassy fields is a comfortable seventy-five degrees. The cooing of the white winged doves in the trees is a hymn added to the romantic harp and violin version of “Perfect” being played as we walk toward the gazebo on the edge of the lake. It’s the same song Dalt and I danced to the night we knew we belonged together. Even the swans in the pond, swimming in pairs in and out of the water cascading from the newly added center fountain, are demonstrating their lifelong commitment to one partner. It’s their contribution to complete the picturesque setting of a day filled with promises of forever, a day of giving our hearts surrounded by a setting which truly speaks to our hearts.

  I’m exceedingly grateful for everything Dalt has done to make this day a beautiful beginning to the rest of our lives. I still don’t know how he managed to get a crew of men to spend mere weeks to renovate the thirty by forty-foot barn on our farm and transform it into something right off the pages of Architectural Digest. The barn hadn’t been used for decades. But since I was still going through rehab and wasn’t able to travel, Dalt saw the antique structure and somehow envisioned it into what it is now.

  After talking it over with my mom and Matt, the construction began. Dalt filmed the progression of steps it required to take the barn apart, clean the antique white oak wood, and put the mortise and tenons back together in an elegant configuration perfect for weddings or parties. The architect Dalt hired succeeded in keeping the rustic quality of a classic New England barn, complete with hand hewn timbers and rustic railings running the length of the balconies on either side of the thirty-foot-high building. The old wood plank floors were refinished to a high gloss shine. Hanging down the center of the expanse are four three-foot wide crystal chandeliers. On each vertical timber lining either side of the room, electrified double candle sconces glow. Overhead, tiny twinkling white lights covering the exposed beams give the ambience of a wedding space fit for a fairy woodland prince and princess.

  When construction was complete, Dalt made me close my eyes as he walked me through the doors of the barn for the first time. When I opened my eyes, I gasped at the breathtaking transformation. I could feel the history of the building, but even more than that I could feel the passion and artistry Dalt and the crew working on the building had put into it.

  Later, when they were ready to set up for the wedding, Dalt left the i
nterior decorating of table settings and flowers up to Tracey and Alex. The long tables with crisp white linens mixed with touches of peach and the giant arrangements of wildflowers down the centers of the tables completes the perfect backdrop for a perfect wedding.

  Needless to say, when Dalt posted pictures of the completed project on social media, inquiries came flooding in for people wanting to rent the venue for their event. Apparently, Dalt, Matt, and my mom have embarked on a new business together. Matt and Dalt have excitedly been planning the other additions they want to make to create the complete wedding venue package. I’m happy to say this new venture with Dalt eventually being an absent but financial backer has brought him and Matt closer. Matt doesn’t growl anymore when he sees Dalt, which is a good thing.

  Gazing around at the picturesque setting in front of me, seeing our family and friends beaming with love and happiness for us, the whole day is like a beautiful dream. But it’s not. It’s real. I’m here.

  I walk toward the flower-covered gazebo where Dalt is waiting for me. Garrett and Dak are next to him. Although they’re all handsome in their black tail coat three-piece morning suits with peach color vests and ties, Dalt is easily the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in his perfectly tailored suit. Garrett leans in and whispers something to Dalt. When he looks up and sees me, his ear to ear smile lights up his face. And when his beautiful blue eyes lock with mine, my heart beats in double-time. I can’t believe he’s mine. I can’t believe I get to marry him.

  My heart feels like it’s going to explode. I return his smile and think about how much our connection to each other has changed in the few years we’ve been together. Prior to his father’s meddling our relationship had been lighthearted and youthful, everything young love should be. Enjoying each other without a care in the world other than studying together for our next big test, wrapped in each other’s arms. Or training together to be in shape for our respective teams. Things are different now. We aren’t much older, but in those few years we’ve matured, and our relationship has done the same, ripened into something…more. We’re in love. Truly, deeply in love.

  My smile widens when I think about Dalt getting down on one knee during one of my physical therapy sessions to ask me to marry him. Only Dalt could make the sterile setting the most romantic place in the world for a proposal.

  He looked up at me from his kneeling position and said, “Nik, I knew you were my soulmate the first day I laid eyes on you covered in mud, running up and down the soccer field. I knew it the night you jumped off a table into my arms and sang out of tune to me in the car. I knew it every time you managed to trick me into moving in the wrong direction to dive for the soccer ball. I knew it every time I heard you yell at me from the stands for doing something stupid on the ice or cheer louder than anyone else in the arena when I did good. Every time you used one of your crazy nicknames for a certain one of my body parts, I knew you were the only woman who could keep me smiling for the rest of my life. And when I found out you gave me Chloe, the greatest gift of my life, I may not have told you right away but I knew the only thing I wanted was for all of us to be together, forever. I know I’ve been a dumbass more times than I can count and I know I don’t deserve you, but please marry me, Nik. You’re the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with. You’re the love of my life.”

  It couldn’t have been more romantic than if we were sailing in a gondola down the canals of Venice or standing in a flower garden in Paris. When he reached up to offer me the open velvet box holding a ring with a diamond the size of a mini soccer ball, I managed to slowly bend my leg to drop to my knees, kiss him with every ounce of love I had in me, and tell him, “You had me at ‘soulmate.’”

  Now, as I stand next to him, in front of Father Morley, Dalt leans in and whispers, “I’m the luckiest man alive. You look like an angel. But as beautiful as that dress is, I can’t wait to see it on the floor around your ankles.” He waggles his brow. My face warms to the color of Dalt’s vest when I glance up and see Father Morley flipping through pages of his bible, trying his best to pretend he didn’t hear what Dalt said.

  Before I can respond Dalt scoops Chloe up in his arms and tells her how much he loves her.

  She strokes his face and says, “Butterfy tis, Dada.”

  When Dalt tickles her cheek with butterfly kisses and she giggles, I know the truth. I’m the lucky one.

  Epilogue I

  Three Months Later

  Dalt

  I look around the locker room and can’t believe I’m actually here, ready to play my first pre-season game with the Winds. My agent—yes I have an agent now—worked it out with management and they graciously allowed me some extra time to get out here. Enough time for me to stay with Nikki while she recovered and went through the initial stages of physical therapy.

  While she’s not completely rehabbed, she’s doing better than the doctors had expected at this point. Great news is she doesn’t have any residual balance or coordination problems from the brain trauma, although they say it’s too early to tell if her leg will ever be fully recovered enough to be able to play soccer. It’s tough to shun my overwhelming guilt about that, but Nik keeps telling me to get over it. She says I can’t take credit for all the stupid mistakes we’ve made in our past. She claims it’s a moot point anyway since she’ll be on the field hip faking me in no time. I believe her. My girl is one tough cookie.

  She and Chloe moved out here with me after the wedding. We got our little house on the water in Newport Beach. Okay, not so little at around six thousand square feet, six bedrooms, and a guest bungalow. But my girls are worth it and it gives us plenty of space for our friends and Matt and Rose to visit whenever they want.

  Rose claims as soon as the wedding season slows down they’re going to come out and stay for two weeks because they miss Nikki and Chloe, and me too they added just to be polite. The new business has taken off like wildfire. Rose and Matt only took off one weekend to make time to have their own private wedding. I hope they do get to come out. Nikki and Chloe are missing them.

  Nikki is taking online courses to complete her degree. Turns out she doesn’t completely hate doing her work with her toes buried in the sand while Chloe builds sandcastles next to her. She says I’m going to turn her into a fat, spoiled, married lady. I’m doing my best to prove her right about the spoiled part, but the way she runs a little farther every day up and down the beach and then spends at least an hour doing soccer drills in the sand, there’s no way she’ll ever accomplish the fat part.

  As we take to the ice and the fans go wild, am I nervous to play my first pro game? Not really. I’d say it’s more of an adrenaline rush knowing I’m going to be paid to do the thing I would have done for free if given the opportunity. My new teammates made me feel welcome from my first day here. Having Wolfe on the bench for support from a familiar face is an added bonus.

  One of the goalies is injured and out for the season. They brought Wolfe up from the farm team last month. I’m sure it won’t be long before he gets his turn at the pipes. It’s awesome we’ll both be playing for the same team again. When Dak called to tell me he, Tracey, and Batt were going to be in the stands for my first game, I was beyond stoked to have my posse here to cheer me on.

  Garrett showed up too. He says he’ll be at every one of my games, at least the home ones. We worked things out about the crap my father pulled. The old bastard isn’t going to be seeing anything but the four walls of a jail cell for a while. Karma’s a bitch.

  Garrett and I changed the name of the company to Walker Brothers Productions, distanced ourselves from our dad, and cut him out of everything to keep the company from going down with him. While Garrett is CEO now and running the show, he says my place is ready and waiting for me whenever I get tired of gliding on razor blades up and down the ice. I’m grateful for his support and I know Mom is looking down, happy and proud of the men we’ve become.

  The thing I’m most grateful for, the thing I say a
little prayer of thanks for every day, is having Nikki and Chloe in my life and in the stands right now to root for me. I offered to get them seats in the executive suite box where most family members sit, but they all wanted to sit in the seats next to the Winds’ bench.

  “Nah, man,” Dak scoffed. “We came to watch the game, not eat hors d’ouevres.”

  Nikki added with a coy grin, “I won’t be able to watch your sexy bubble butt move up and down the ice from up there.”

  When I skate past the bench, I see Nikki pointing me out to Chloe. When she spots me, she starts jumping up and down on Nik’s lap and clapping. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. My chest swells with pride as I take my seat on the bench.

  It takes some time to get used to a new line of guys but when we make the switch a few minutes into the first period, everything falls into place like I’ve been playing with them my whole life.

  Gifford, our right winger, and I fly down the ice. He’s driving the puck. The opposing team’s D-man drops back toward the goal and cheats toward Gifford. I’m moving into the perfect receiving angle when Gifford slaps the puck right onto my tape without looking at me, like he knows where I’m going to be. I laser a snap shot right into the hole over the goalie’s shoulder. When the horn blows, it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard, next to Nik’s moans of ecstasy, that is.

  When the game ends, we have our first win of the pre-season and I have the first pro game win of my career. After celebrating on the ice with the guys, I skate to the boards and place my palms on the Plexiglas in front of my girls. Both Nik and Chloe touch their hands on the glass where my hands are.

  I was wrong when I said life couldn’t get any better the night Nik and I unknowingly made Chloe. Life can get better. Every day with Nikki is even better than the day before and this, this right here, is one of the best days so far.