Will
A week passed in a tornado of hockey and home.
I showed up at our home game the next day more focused than ever, Aleks smirking at me like he knew before I said a word that I’d taken his advice. He didn’t ask, just patted me on the helmet on our way out for our morning skate with a muttered, “Atta boy.”
The team was on fire. We smoked our opponents that night, three to zero. Our next two games were away — one in Toronto and one in Buffalo. We lost the first in overtime, but showed out in the next, and returned home with a determination to finish out the season strong and play our asses off for the Stanley Cup.
When I wasn’t with the team, I was all in on Ava and Chloe.
Ava was a champ with her injury, doing what we asked her to do in terms of recovery without whining or complaining one bit. She was better every day, and our biggest challenge was convincing her she wasn’t ready to go back to playing as hard as she was used to.
“You would be back on the ice if it were you,” she’d shot at me one night in argument, and Chloe and I had battled back laughter.
The little shit was right, and unfortunately for me, she was just like her Pops.
Chloe had been sleeping in the pool house, but she was slowly moving things inside — including the cats, who now roamed freely throughout any room they desired. She’d been busy with school, the year picking up after spring break as summer drew closer and closer.
Now, it was another home game day, and in-between my post-morning-skate nap and my report time at the arena — Chloe and I were telling Ava about us.
Where I wore my nerves on my sleeve as we gathered her at the dining room table, Chloe looked calm as ever. She smirked at me, squeezing my wrist with one comforting hand before she started talking.
Ava was dressed and ready for the game, excited to be able to attend since it was a Saturday night. It was also the first time she’d been able to wear her hockey jersey since she got injured. It made my heart squeeze to see her in my number, to feel the excitement radiating off her.
I knew once I got her into hockey this summer, I’d never get her out of it.
I hoped she’d find a home in it just like I had, that I could bear witness to her playing in a women’s league down the line.
She and Chloe were chatting away about the game, how Ava couldn’t wait to get popcorn and throw her stuffed animal on the ice when we won. Chloe told her she’d have to explain the rules to her like always, and Ava was groaning and pretending it was an inconvenience when I knew she secretly loved it.
Eventually, Chloe turned to me, arching a brow with an encouraging dip of her chin. “Well, I’m going to use the restroom before we leave. I’ll be right back.”
She squeezed my shoulder as she left the room. We’d both decided that it would be better for me to tell Ava alone first, to give her a moment to process between the two of us.
But with Chloe gone now, I was as scared as ever. That woman really had become a lifeline to me.
I took a deep breath, leaning my elbows onto the table. “Before Daddy goes to the rink, there’s something we want to talk to you about.”
Ava was kicking her feet under the table, but they stopped swinging at that, her little eyes flicking to mine. It was wild, how kids could pick up energy like that. She knew what I had to say was big, that this wasn’t normal for us.
“Okay,” she said tentatively.
“You know how Chloe has been living out in the pool house? How we hired her to be your nanny back in January?”
Ava nodded with a wide grin. “It’s been the best.”
“It has been,” I agreed. “And we’ve all been hanging out a lot, haven’t we?”
“Mm-hmm,” Ava said. “We’re best friends!”
My heart squeezed, and I looked up at the ceiling a moment before bringing my gaze back to hers. “We sure are.”
I watched my daughter for a long moment, praying what I said next would bring her comfort and happiness and nothing else. But this was all foreign territory to me.
“What would you think about Daddy and Chloe maybe being more than friends?”
Ava frowned a bit, and I realized that wasn’t the best terminology. How the heck would my five-year-old daughter know what I meant when I said that?
Fortunately for me, Chloe slid back into the room then, leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.
“You know how we watched Tangled together, and how much you loved it?” she said, crossing the room to sit next to Ava again. Ava nodded excitedly, and Chloe smiled. “Well, your dad and I are like Rapunzel and Flynn.”
Ava’s eyes widened a bit, her gaze floating to me before she smiled and hid her face. “You mean you two like to kiss?!”
“Maybe,” Chloe teased, tickling Ava, who squirmed and laughed and finally dropped her hands from her face to look at us again.
“Do you love her, Daddy?”
My heart nearly burst out of my chest, and I blew out a long breath, reaching over to grab Chloe’s hand in mine. “I do,” I whispered. “Very much.”
Ava smiled, looking between us, and then she shrugged, kicking her feet. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I asked.
“Do you have any questions for us?” Chloe added. “Anything you want to know?”
“Does this mean you’re going to stay forever?”
Chloe smiled, running a hand through my daughter’s hair. “I think it means that’s a possibility, yes. And for now, I’m at least going to move into the house with you guys. Would that be okay?”
“Into my room?!” Ava clapped.
“No,” Chloe said on a laugh. “Into your dad’s room, but I’ll be up there every night with you to play and read before bed. Deal?”
“Deal.”
We talked for a while longer, Chloe knowing what questions to ask better than I did. But in the end, Ava was just excited. I knew one day she might have more questions — especially when it came to her mother. But I also knew that with Chloe by my side, we could handle it.
We could handle anything that came our way.
When it was time for me to head to the arena, I kissed Ava on the forehead, and then I brought Chloe into my arms, a little nervous to kiss her for the first time in front of Ava. But I did it, savoring each kiss like it was the first and the last and promising I’d find them after the game in the family lounge.
“Go get ’em,” she said, squeezing my arm when I released her.
But before I could walk out the door, Ava screamed, “Wait!”
She tugged at Chloe’s phone peeking out of her jean pocket — I couldn’t stare too long, because this woman in fucking jeans was apparently my ultimate undoing. She had gone on some shopping trip with Maven, Livia, and Grace last weekend, and if I thought seeing her in the custom-created dresses she made was torture, it was nothing compared to a well-fitted pair of denim.
Ava turned to me. “Before you go, can we take a family picture?”
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, emotion strangling my next breath. All I could do was nod, and then she was running to get Chef Patel from where she was cleaning up in the kitchen after making me my pre-game meal.
Ava dragged Chef into the room and handed her the phone, and then Chloe was tucking herself under my arm, and I hiked Ava up in the other, and we leaned together for our first photo together.
“Say hockey!” Chef said.
“Hockey!” we all chimed together.
Arushi smiled as she clicked a few photos, and I swore I felt another smile, one that wasn’t in the room with us, but rather watching from somewhere above. I knew I’d never get the chance to hear her say it, to know for sure… but my heart told me Jenny would be happy to see us all together.
She’d be happy I was introducing our daughter to her, happy with who our daughter was becoming.
Happy that I had somehow found my own happiness, too.
As soon as the photo was taken, Ava was calling Chef in to join us, not taking no for an answer. I held Chloe’s phone in my hand as far out as I could to capture us all in one selfie, the smile on my face so foreign and yet so right.
Ava was clawing at my arm to see the photos as soon as we dispersed, and I lowered my hand so she could see, swiping through each one.
“Wow,” she breathed on a little smile. “We really are doing our best.”
When I handed Chloe her phone back, I kissed my girls one last time before heading out the door.
And I made a vow to learn my lesson.
I made a vow to print and frame those photos tomorrow, and to paint every wall in this house with the memories of us.
