No wonder she’d handled the change so well. She’d never truly accepted that Jess wasn’t coming back.
Words failed me. No matter what I said to her, it was going to hurt, and she’d been hurt so damn much that I wasn’t sure I could inflict another wound. But maybe that was really the heart of parenting, teaching her truth while doing the least amount of damage possible.
I set her on the floor and then dropped to my knees before her.
“Hannah, she’s not coming. I wish she was, baby. I do. And you are the best daughter ever to have done this for her, but she’s not going to be here.” I said it as softly, as carefully as possible, hoping she heard the truth in my voice, that I wouldn’t have to say it again.
Her brow puckered. “It’s mother’s day. I’m her little girl. She’ll come.”
My heart shattered at her certainty—her faith.
“Honey, I wish that were true, but even I don’t know where she is.” It had been two months, and still no news. “I would give anything to not hurt you. To not say this to you. She’s not coming.”
“You don’t know that!” she screamed. “You don’t know anything! She loves me!”
Her rage was finally coming to the surface, and I couldn’t blame her. I was only surprised it had taken this long to happen.
“She does love you. You are the best thing about her whole life, Hannah. Never think anything else. And I bet she misses you so much. But she left you with me because she knew she couldn’t take care of you. Baby, I don’t think that’s going to change.”
“She’ll come back! She always comes back! You’ll see! I even made her a present at school last week. She’ll show up!” Her little body shook with anger as her clenched fists tortured the fabric of her dress.
“Hannah—”
“No! Stop! She’ll show you. She said when she left me that I might stay with you, but that she’d always be my mommy. It’s Mother’s Day, and she’ll be here!”
Her logic was sound.
Her trust was simply placed in the wrong person.
And there was nothing I could do that would gently break that trust. No matter what, the minute the truth hit her, it would shred her, and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t soften it. I couldn't protect her from it.
I had to let it happen because there was simply no other alternative.
“Okay,” I said gently. “If this is what you truly believe—”
“It is,” she declared, putting her trembling chin in the air.
“Then how about I order brunch from Nine’s for delivery, so you can have sparkle juice.”
“And we’ll wait here for Mommy?” She started to settle down.
“We’ll wait as long as you want to, and as long as you know that I don’t think she’ll come, but I’m willing to be with you, to wait with you, because I want you to be right, ok, Banana?”
Her little chest heaved once, and she wiped a hand under her nose as she nodded with a sniff. “She’ll come,” she said over my head.
I’d almost forgotten Ivy was standing behind me.
“I hope she does, Hannah,” Ivy answered, her voice kind, but soaked in sadness.
Hannah nodded, then turned away from me, climbing into her seat and folding her arms. She really was going to sit there and wait.
I’d never hated my sister more than at this moment.
Two hours later, Hannah sipped her sparkle juice and had demolished her banana-stuffed French toast, but she refused to remove the milk or cereal from the table.
I sat next to Ivy on the steps, watching Hannah as she looked out the window.
“I don’t know what to say to her.”
“I don’t think there’s anything you can.” Ivy took my hand, and I felt a little less...alone. “And I don’t think it’s about saying anything as much as it is just being here.”
She was right. Every once in a while, Hannah looked back at me for a second, like she was making sure I hadn’t left. Then she went right back to staring out the window.
I made her mac and cheese, one of her favorites, for lunch, but the bowl still sat untouched by two pm.
By three, she’d told me that she hated me, and it was my fault for moving, that I’d made it so Jess couldn’t find us. I calmly told her that I’d left our forwarding information at the front desk of my old apartment building, but it was okay if she hated me.
Right now, I hated me, too.
By four, her pretty braids were fraying from rubbing her head against the chair back.
By five, every game we’d tried to engage her in had failed.
By six, she refused pizza for dinner, even when I’d ordered from the place she always begged me for and got the pineapple she loved.
By seven, it was time for her bath, but I wasn’t sure I had the heart to tell her that the day was over. To take away the last shred of hope in her heart.
But I was now her parent—or the closest thing she had to one.
“Hannah, love. It’s time for your bath,” I told her gently. “But we’ll be able to hear the doorbell upstairs, ok? You can come right back down afterward.”
She turned her head slightly but didn’t look at me.
Instead, she slid down from the chair and walked past me soundlessly. I followed her up the stairs, my hand squeezing Ivy’s so tight I thought I might have cut off her circulation.
Hannah tore at her dress as soon as she got to her bathroom, popping the highest button off.
“Do you want me to help get your braids out?” Ivy asked.
Hannah stilled, then nodded.
Ivy nodded toward the door, and I took the hint, leaving the girls alone. Then I leaned against the wall just outside the door.
The water started.
“I know it’s not the same,” Ivy said gently. “But my mommy died when I was about your age, and Mother’s Day was always really tough because I missed her so much.” She paused, but Hannah didn’t reply. “So Pepper and I played a kind of game every Mother’s Day. We would sit in our rooms, right before bed, and we would tell each other everything we wanted to tell our mom, everything we would say if she walked in the door.”
My head hit the wall, imagining what it must have been like for them to lose their mother so long.
“And it helped, but it didn’t make me miss her less.”
I heard the sounds of Hannah getting into the tub as Ivy shut the water off.
“You know, I still miss her hands. She had these long, beautiful fingers that were perfect for piano, and her nails were always so pretty, and round. She had this laugh that felt like Christmas morning and the best hugs. I really miss her hugs.”
“But she left you.”
That tiny voice sent me sliding down the wall until my ass hit the ground.
“Yeah, she did, but I still love her. It’s okay to love the people who leave you. It just means you have a really big heart.”
The sounds of bathtime filled the hallway, but I didn’t budge.
“I like my mama’s fingernails. They’re usually pink, or purple, and always shiny. I like how she would paint mine, too.”
“I bet they are the best, shiniest nails ever,” Ivy agreed.
“I would tell her about the new house, and my sparkle wall, and the hockey games, and Jenny—she lives next door and goes to my school. And I would tell her about our pool, and how I have all my art supplies lined up by color.”
“Those are all great things,” Ivy told her.
I heard splashing sounds like she was getting out.
“And I would tell her about you,” Hannah said quietly.
“I would tell my mom about you, too, Hannah. You and your Uncle Connor.”
Fuck. I loved her. I wasn’t falling; I had fallen, period. Gone.
Hannah padded out of the bathroom, wrapped in a giant, fluffy towel.
Her big green eyes met mine, and she swallowed. “Will you put me to bed?” she whispered.
I almost fucking cried, but it wasn’t what she
needed. “Yeah, of course, I will.”
I stood, gathered her into my arms and walked the short distance to her room. Once she was in her jammies, teeth brushed and hair cared for, she climbed into her bed.
The edge gave a little as I sat beside her. “I love you, you know that, right?”
She nodded. “I don’t hate you. That was mean.”
I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Sometimes we say mean things when our hearts hurt. Thank you for apologizing. I knew you didn’t really hate me.”
She looked up at me, and her eyes shone, then filled, then overflowed, giant tears falling down her cheeks.
“I just. I thought she’d come. She didn’t. She’s not coming is she? Ever?”
My throat tightened, and it was a few moments before I could get a sound out.
“I don’t know about ever,” I told her as I brushed her tears away. “But I know that this is your home. This will always be your home. I will always be here. I will never leave you. Not ever. Do you understand?”
How could she? I was a grown man, and I still couldn’t comprehend what my sister had done.
She nodded as a flood of tears took her over, shaking her little body. They weren’t the little tiny tears of anger or tantrums. These were gut-wrenching, life-altering.
I laid down next to her and wrapped her in my arms, letting her cry all she wanted. I couldn’t blame her. It hurt like hell to have your faith ripped from your soul.
“I will never leave you,” I promised her over and over.
And long after she fell asleep, I lay with her, curled around her little frame, and made one more promise, this one to myself.
I would protect her from the possibility of this ever happening to her again.
Chapter 14
Connor
Two home games and one away later, we won the third round.
We were Western Conference Champions with a five-day break until the Stanley Cup Finals.
I was on top of the world, and under scrutiny from Shea Lansing, Hannah’s social worker, as we sat in my living room.
“The house really is lovely,” she said, not looking up from her clipboard. She was maybe five and a half feet tall in six-inch heels, but damn if she didn’t make me feel like I was the short one.
“Thank you,” I said because that’s what you said when someone complimented your new house and I was afraid of babbling.
“You have her enrolled in school still?” She pushed a pair of glasses up her nose, making her look like she was fifty when I knew she couldn’t be older than I was.
“Absolutely. She goes to the preschool about a mile away. They usually age out at five but took pity on her seeing as she’ll have to start kindergarten next year since Jessica didn’t enroll her this year. Plus donations help.” I gave her a smile.
She frowned.
“Right. It’s a great school district. Pool precautions still in place since my last visit?”
“Yep. Alarms on the door and surface monitor. She can swim like a fish, but they’re there just in case.”
“Good. And you asked those closest to her, who might have to provide care in case you need a sitter, to submit background checks?”
“Yep. I know you already have Bailey’s, and Ivy’s and Faith’s. Those are the only people who babysit for Hannah, but I also have these,” I pushed a large manilla envelope across the table, overflowing with papers.
“Those are?” Her forehead puckered.
“Copies of the background checks for about three-quarters of the Seattle Sharks, seeing as she does spend quite a bit of time at the rink. These were the guys who asked to get checked out for her.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not.”
She took the envelope and smiled. Holy shit, she could actually smile. “Never thought a bunch of overgrown macho men would sign up to hang out with a kid.”
“Hey, we’re not all that bad. Some of them even do that Big Brother program.”
She laughed. “Okay, okay, I get the point. So, have you heard from Hannah’s mother?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t heard anything, and the private investigator has come up empty, too.”
“Well, that’s a shame. Not for you, but it would be nice if we could locate her and get her to sign over her rights. It would be easier for you and better legally for her. I haven’t received anything back from your mother, either, which means she’s not going to contest.”
A giant sigh of relief smacked me in the chest.
“So what do we do now?”
“Now we file for a termination of parental rights in about two weeks. It’s faster than normal since the court has already found that Hannah’s been abandoned due to the note she left you and Jessica’s lack of contact. In fact, she’s probably going to face some criminal charges of abandonment.”
“Does this happen a lot?” I asked, needing to know if it was just the women in my family who fucked up their kids.
“Unfortunately. We see a lot more dads leave, honestly. Hell, it even happened to me.” She shook her head. “Sorry, that was personal.”
“Personal is okay. Honestly, I can’t figure out how old you are, and it’s driving me nuts. I’m usually pretty good at that stuff.”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “At gaging the ages of women?”
“Well...yeah.” Her skin was flawless, and she didn’t have an age line anywhere, but her eyes and her tone of voice were all just...old.
“Twenty-six,” she answered, shocking the shit out of me.
“But Barnes said he’d been working with you for years.”
“At his law office. That’s how I put myself through grad school. Anyway, we’ll get everything rolling in two weeks, but it would be great if we could find your sister. A lot simpler.”
“Yeah, well, Jessica isn’t one for doing it the easy way.”
“As long as we do it the right way, it won’t matter. Don’t worry.”
I thought about what she’d said the entire drive to the rink. The right way. I was doing it the right way...right?
Hannah was safe, and loved and cared for, and had me, and Ivy.
Ivy.
Ivy, who I loved, but hadn’t told. Who I was still “sneaking” around with even though most of the roster knew what was happening.
Everyone except the person who deserved to know.
I gathered my courage, wished I had a bullet-proof vest, and walked into Coach Harris’s office a half hour later.
“Coach?”
“Bridgerton, what can I do for you?” he asked from the other side of his desk, looking at a collection of papers.
I shut the door behind me and ripped the baseball cap I’d been wearing off my head. It was now or never.
“Sir, I’m in love with your daughter.”
His eyebrows rose, but his eyes didn’t. “Well, her husband might have something to say about that,” he remarked, flipping the page on what looked like reports of some kind.
“Ivy, Sir. I’m in love with Ivy.”
His head popped up, his eyes wide.
“I just wanted to be upfront and honest, instead of you finding out some other way.” God, I was five years old again, in the principal's office for punching Tommy King. My heart had never been so sure, or beat so fast in my life.
“Okay.” He wasn’t exactly giving me much to go on.
“Right. I love her. She’s smart, and funny, and strong, and keeps me on my toes, and she’s so great with Hannah.”
“I don’t need to know my daughter’s finer qualities, Bridgerton, I raised her.” He leaned forward.
“Of course. I just wanted to tell you that I love her. And I know it would have been better to wait until after finals, but if I have to face the same consequences that Crosby did, then I’m okay with that. I’ll choose her. I’ll choose her every day.”
A smile flashed across his face and was gone just as soon. “I appreciate you telling me, but I told my girls I
was done interfering in their love lives. You can keep your job and date my daughter, it’s none of my business, and if she finds you acceptable, then I do, too.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Coach.”
“You break her heart, and I’ll break your face,” he said with complete and utter seriousness.
“Right, Sir.”
“You can leave.”
I nodded and turned, almost sprinting for the door.
“Bridgerton, when it’s time, I’d better see you back here, ready to ask, because if you pull that elopement crap that Eric did, I’ll lose my shit. Understand?”
I grinned, imagining this guy as my father-in-law. “Yes, Sir.”
I shut the door, pretty much running for my life.
It was okay. Ivy and I could be as public as we wanted.
“Hey, Bridgerton,” Walt, one of the security guys called as I made my way toward the locker room.
“Yeah?”
“There’s some woman making a scene that she has to see you? She’s at the security desk right now, and it’s all we can do to keep her there.”
Well, that narrowed it down. I’d pissed off half the female population of Seattle at some point in my life. “Okay? Fan?”
“I don’t think so. She’s got long hair and keeps raving about Hannah.”
Jess.
“Holy shit.”
I took off at a dead run through the arena, taking the steps two at a time up to the level where the security desk was. Pushing through the doors, I slid across the tile floor before starting the run again, coming by the concession stands—
No.
“There he is!” She shouted.
“What are you doing here?” I growled.
She cocked her head to the side, her hair long, stringy, and bottle-dyed fire engine red.
“Now, Connor. Is that any way to speak to your mother?”
I ignored the blatant looks of shock from the security guards.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped, repeating the demand.
She waved a paper in the air. “I’m here to tell you that I’m taking custody of my granddaughter, of course.”
Skater Page 17