by Jen Gilroy
Or so he’d tell himself the next time he woke in the early hours of the morning and it was Cat he yearned for, and her tender touch his body craved.
Qualifications for a dad. Amy slipped the piece of lined paper out of the back of her math textbook to check the list she and Kylie had made after dinner at her grandma’s house the night before. Thinks you’re the best, does stuff with you, and helps out around the house.
She tightened her grip on the pencil as she read the words that Kylie had written. Amy guessed that helping out was important, but since it had only ever been her mom and her, she didn’t know for sure. But Kylie did, because Uncle Nick was now her dad, and she said Aunt Mia liked it when he cooked.
Likes to cook? Amy added a question mark beside that one. Did Coach Luc like to cook? How could she find a way to ask him? Her insides quivered.
Curled up in one of the armchairs in the living room of the apartment she was now supposed to call home, Amy twirled the pencil and looked at her mom in the circle of light cast by the lamp on her desk. Darcy, their elderly tabby cat, slept at her mom’s feet while Bingley, Darcy’s equally elderly brother, groomed himself on her lap. Her mom stared at her computer screen and, although her lips moved, no sound came out. Her forehead had a crease in it like it did when she was thinking hard about something. Or she was worried about money, work, or, most of all, Amy.
Amy bit back a sigh, then bent her head back to the notebook paper. A good dad would help my mom so she wouldn’t worry as much. She squinted and bit her lip. No matter how hard she tried, the words she wanted never came out the right way on paper. Although she tried to not show it, her mom also worried about that.
Most important of all, though, a dad would need to love her more than anything. She wrote LOVE in big letters and drew a heart around it with her red pencil crayon. Her mom’s love was the one thing she always had enough of. And now she had her grandma, Aunt Georgia, and Uncle Nick and Aunt Mia and their kids—a whole family of love right here in Firefly Lake.
“How’s your math homework coming along?” Her mom’s voice had a worried edge to it that matched her worried expression.
“Fine.” Amy shoved the paper with her dad list back into the book. “Coach Callaghan’s a good teacher.” From what she’d seen of him, he was also a great dad. “The teacher helping me with reading is good, too.” For the first time ever, the jumble of letters that everyone else could read so easily had begun to make some kind of sense to her.
“That’s great, honey.” Her mom’s smile warmed Amy inside and out. “I’m so proud of you.” She pushed away from the desk and scooted her chair on wheels closer to where Amy sat. “I know you didn’t want to move here, but everything’s working out okay, isn’t it?”
“Whatever.” Amy shrugged.
School anywhere would be bad, but the one here was better than the others she’d gone to. At least she didn’t have the sick feeling in her stomach she used to get every morning before school back in Boston. And even though the hockey team was lame, Coach Luc made up for it. But despite all that, Firefly Lake wasn’t home. She sounded different than the other kids, and she felt different too, in a whole new way than she had in Boston. For a start, she was the only girl who played hockey, but more than that, she was the only kid in the entire school, maybe even the whole town, without a dad. Even the kids whose parents didn’t live together had a dad somewhere.
“I’ll have finished my book and those articles about the inn by June, and if they get published, that could really open doors for me.” Her mom’s smile was bright and her voice was encouraging. “I bet a permanent job is right around the corner. Life will get easier, I promise. If I’m really careful with this grant money, maybe we can even take a vacation this summer.”
Amy gave a jerky nod and tried to smile back. She wasn’t a little kid anymore. The truth was right in front of her, and it wasn’t pretty. Even for someone as smart as her mom, there weren’t a lot of history professor jobs out there. It was all her mom and her friends talked about. She swallowed hard. Maybe she should add “has a good job” to her list of dad requirements.
“We could go to Florida.” She hunched in the chair. “I’d love to go to Disney World.”
“Florida in summer would be way too hot and humid.” Her mom’s smile slipped away.
“You like hot weather.” Amy could get into this game of pretend because that was all it was. Kids like her didn’t get to go on fancy vacations. “You met my dad in Florida, didn’t you, on spring break?” She scooped up Bingley from her mom’s lap, and the cat let out a loud meow.
“Yes, in Fort Lauderdale.” Her mom moved back toward the desk. “Look, you need to finish your homework so we can read together before bed and—”
“Why don’t you ever talk about him?” Her pulse sped up. Amy needed answers to questions, important questions, but her mom always brushed her off or changed the subject like she was a baby. Now that she was twelve, though, she was too old to be distracted or fobbed off with half answers.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Her mom rifled through pages of her book manuscript. “Like I’ve told you, he died in a farm accident before I knew I was pregnant with you.”
“He must have had a family somewhere.” Amy took a deep breath. “Did you go to his funeral?” Even though she didn’t want it to, her voice shook.
“No.” In the pool of light from the desk lamp, her mom’s blond hair shone like the hair of the Cinderella doll Amy had gotten one Christmas when she was little. Back when she still believed in princesses and the kind of magic fairy godmothers could make. “He was from a small town in Minnesota. The funeral was there. I didn’t find out he’d died until afterward.”
“You could have still gotten in touch, especially after you had me.” Her breathing got noisy, and she flexed her fingers against Bingley’s warm sides. “I’ve only seen one blurry picture of him.” Her dad had been a big guy with shaggy, dark-blond hair the same color as Amy’s and, in the picture, he wore a University of North Dakota T-shirt and black shorts. He was in the middle of a group of college kids. Her mom was there too, but she was off to one side, like she’d ended up in the picture by mistake. Behind the group there were sand and a few spiky palm trees against a bright blue sky.
“Jared isn’t your dad, except in name.” Her mom’s voice was as tight as her expression. “Even if he’d lived, I doubt he’d have been around for us.”
“You don’t know that for sure. What about my dad’s folks? Did he have brothers and sisters?” Her thoughts spun.
“He was an only child, and his mom died when he was a kid.” Her mom fiddled with the zipper on her hoodie. “His dad was in the military, and he was raised by an aunt and uncle. Sweetie, it’s always been enough, just the two of us. Why the sudden interest in your dad? Believe me, if your dad all of a sudden leaves his family like mine did, it would be better to not have known him in the first place.”
Like the mysterious Jared, her mom’s dad was someone else nobody ever talked about. Not even her aunt Georgia and she talked about everything. “Being here in Firefly Lake with your family makes me feel like there’s this whole other part of me that’s missing. As if… like maybe… you’re ashamed of me.” Amy’s face got hot and she gripped her sweatshirt.
“No, honey.” Her mom got out of the chair and came to crouch at Amy’s side. “I’ve never been ashamed of you, not once. I don’t want you to ever think that. Getting pregnant with you wasn’t planned, and although at first I didn’t think I was ready to be a mom, from the minute I held you, I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” Her voice was tender, and she took Amy’s hand, but instead of being warm and comforting like it usually was, her mom’s hand was cold and shook a bit.
“Oh.” Amy pressed her lips together until her jaw hurt. She let her hand lie in her mom’s without squeezing back. She wasn’t as dumb as the kids at her old school had said. Maybe her mom wasn’t ashamed of her, but it sounded like her mom had made
a mistake—a big one.
“Was my dad even important to you?” Her body tensed and her palms got sweaty. As far back as Amy could remember, her mom hadn’t dated, so she couldn’t imagine her hooking up with some random guy. “You’ve never even told me his last name.”
Her mom’s eyes glistened. “You’re the most important person in my life. You always have been, and you always will be. There are lots of ways to make a family, and you’re my family. We don’t need Jared or anyone else.”
Which wasn’t an answer, not a real one anyway. Amy’s eyes watered and she blinked. Maybe they didn’t need Jared. He could have been a real loser, and even if she had a grandfather or other relatives somewhere in that state with all those lakes, it wasn’t like she could track them down, at least not when she was still a kid and didn’t even have a last name. For a few seconds, it was hard to breathe and she was dizzy. Then she straightened, and all of a sudden she had a sense of purpose she’d never had before.
Her mom might not need anyone else, but Amy did. Someone like Coach Luc could help her with hockey, too. Although her mom had never actually come right out and said so, it was pretty clear she worried about Amy playing hockey. Coach Luc would be the perfect guy to make her mom see she had nothing to worry about.
Amy picked up her math textbook again and stared at the page of problems without seeing them. Her grandma said that Coach Luc was still sad because his wife passed, but Amy had seen how he looked at her mom. He liked her; she was sure of it. As for her mom, she liked Coach Luc, too. Why else would she turn red whenever he was around? She also combed her hair and put on lip gloss before hockey practice, and she’d never done anything like that back in Boston.
Maybe she and her mom could help Coach Luc with that sadness her grandma talked about. She had to forget about Jared without a last name and think about what she might be able to have, not what she didn’t.
When her mom had gone back to tapping on the computer, Amy pulled out her list again. She added two more things. Must play hockey. She glanced from Bingley, who dozed on her lap, his deep throaty purr a comforting vibration against her stomach, to Darcy, who was still curled up under her mom’s desk. And like cats.
Chapter Nine
Two rows back from center ice, Cat shifted on one of the arena’s wooden bleachers and raised a hand to her mouth to cover another jaw-cracking yawn. Why had Luc and Scott added this extra practice Friday after school? All week, night after night, she’d lain awake until the rosy light of the winter dawn had slipped through the slats in her bedroom blinds, the quiet pressing in on her. Thanks to the questions Amy had asked about the man who’d fathered her, the feelings Cat had locked away long ago had come tumbling out like the mythic evils from Pandora’s box.
“Hey, Muppet.” The bleacher creaked as Nick sat beside her.
“Hey, yourself. What are you doing here?” Cat huddled into her coat. The arena was like a walk-in freezer. Why would anybody be here unless they had to?
Nick handed her a thermal mug. “I got out of court early, so I thought I’d drop by and watch hockey practice. I haven’t seen Amy in action for a while, and if I’m going to help out with that new girls’ team someday, I figured I better refresh my memory of what it’s all about.”
Cat eased the lid off the mug and inhaled the scent of steaming, maple-cinnamon latte. “How did you know I needed this?”
“Because you’ve been looking bad the past few days.” His eyes narrowed. “Please tell me you’re not working nights.”
“You do.” In his own way, her brother was as driven as she was.
“Did.” Nick’s smile was both loving and smug. “Thanks to Mia, I’m a reformed man. I’m even thinking about giving up my work for the firm in New York to go full-time at McGuire and Pelletier. Although I’d have to take a pay cut, it’s not fair on Mia to single parent when I’m gone. Besides, I miss a lot during the weeks I’m in the city.”
If her mouth hadn’t already been open for another yawn, Cat’s jaw would have dropped. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother? When did you become happy with the life of a small-town attorney?”
“When I became happy, period.” Nick handed Cat one of her favorite cheddar and apple muffins in a paper bag from the Daily Bread Bakery. “There are more important things in life than work, but I only recognized that when I stepped off the fast track for a while.”
Cat flinched as a player bigger than any twelve-year-old boy should be crashed into the boards in front of them.
“Amy wasn’t even near him.” Nick patted her arm.
“Not this time.” Each and every time her baby girl skated onto the ice, Cat wanted to haul her back, but she couldn’t. She had to respect Amy’s choices like her mom had respected hers.
“Relax. Luc won’t let her get hurt.”
“Amy’s more than capable of getting into trouble all by herself. The instant she puts on her skates, she’s fearless. She’s so competitive, too.” Cat wrapped her hands around the warm mug to stop her fingers from trembling.
“She’s a lot like you.” Nick’s voice was even. “Didn’t you always go after what you wanted?”
Cat’s heart gave a sickening bump. She had and, except for once, it had worked out just like she’d planned. Although she’d wanted Amy’s dad, he hadn’t wanted her back. Getting her into bed had been a game to him, nothing more than a bet with his friends. For a smart girl, she’d been stupid, and Amy was the result.
“Hockey’s different. It’s so rough.” Her gaze drifted to the ice. Luc stood at the far end, by one of the goal nets, with Amy and two other players. The hockey moms clustered near the boards watched his every move like fluttery Regency debutantes.
“It’s also a world you don’t know much about, isn’t it?” Nick covered her hand with his. “I get it. I haven’t been a dad for long, but now that I’ve got Mia’s girls and Kylie in my life, it seems like there’s danger everywhere I look. As for teenage boys, don’t get me started.” He gave a wry laugh. “Mom says it’s payback time for the hell I put her through in high school.”
“Amy’s all I have.” Cat gulped a mouthful of latte and the hot liquid burned her tongue. “If she’d chosen swimming or ballet or even soccer, I could understand it more, but hockey… it…” She pressed a hand to her throat.
“Did Amy’s dad play hockey?” Nick’s voice was carefully neutral.
Cat started. First Amy and now Nick. Her brother had never asked her about Jared before. Even her mom hadn’t. Nobody in her family had judged or questioned her when she’d announced she was going to be a single mom. They’d respected her privacy then, so moving back to Firefly Lake didn’t mean her life was all of a sudden an open book.
“He played college hockey.” Her breathing got short and she clenched her hands. “And I don’t want to talk about it.” If he hadn’t gotten himself pinned beneath his uncle’s tractor, Jared had been on his way to the NHL. And as she’d found out way before the day that irrevocable blue line had appeared on the pregnancy test, he’d also been on his way to a big, white wedding with a fiancée who wasn’t her.
“Fair enough, but being with Mia has shown me it helps to let things out.” Nick’s tone was warm. “If you ever want to talk, I’ll try my best to listen.”
“Thanks.” Cat’s eyes smarted and her throat got thick.
“So, what’s with you and Luc?” Her brother’s voice changed, and the warmth was replaced with a razor-sharp edge that reminded Cat why he was such a good attorney.
“Nothing.” Cat gave what she hoped was an unconcerned shrug. It was true. Her feelings for Luc were nothing more than the remnants of that crush she’d never really outgrown.
“He was flirting with you at dinner last weekend.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Cat focused on the ice to avoid her brother’s way-too-intent gaze.
“Mom, Mia, and I all imagined what was going on?” Nick’s voice roughened. “Luc’s a good guy, but we don’t want you to get h
urt.”
“No chance of that.” Cat tried to laugh, even as her gaze was drawn once again to Luc. Now she knew exactly what his powerful arms felt like wrapped around her and the strength in the sheltering curve of his broad shoulders. She shivered, but this time not from the arena’s arctic chill. “I don’t need a man in my life right now.”
“Sure you do, Muppet. You just don’t know it yet.” Nick got to his feet. “I have to get home. Mia’s school choir’s singing at some party at the curling club tonight, so I’m in charge of dinner.” He studied her for several endless seconds. “Give Amy a hug for me. Tell her she looks good out there.”
“I will.” Cat stood beside him and gulped a lungful of cold air. “Thanks for the coffee and the muffin.”
“No problem.” Still Nick studied her. He looked like their dad as she remembered him, but, unlike her father, her brother had never let her down. She laid one hand on his back and pulled him into a hug.
He hugged her back, and her eyes got damp. Then he clattered down the bleachers, and her gaze met Luc’s across the arena and held. Her heart lurched, and her body shook with an unfamiliar emotion, a soul-searing sense of connection to this man that was new.
She looked away first and fumbled with her bag. Her life back in Boston was stressful, sure, and she’d never had enough hours in the day, but it had never been this confusing mix of uncertainty, excitement, hope, fear, and everything in between. She’d known who she was and what she wanted, and her life had stretched out before her in a linear path. But now, and although she’d only been back in Firefly Lake a little over a month, her world had turned topsy-turvy and that life path bent and twisted.
Luc skated over to the boards and gestured to her, and the hockey moms turned as one to stare.
Avoiding the other women, she moved toward him on legs that were like rubber. She wanted a permanent university job. She needed that security for herself and Amy. That was why she was working so hard on her book. And, along with Amy, that was why she couldn’t let herself get distracted by Luc or anything else. “What’s up?”