Chapter Six

Zack

“One more period, boys,” Matthew says, getting up and heading for the ice. “Let’s get some pucks to the net.” I follow him to the ice as the third period starts. I’m on the ice when the puck drops, and Matthew wins the face-off, knocking it to me in the back. I skate down the side of the ice with the puck. Dallas’s forward tries to pick up my stick, but I’ve already passed the puck to Nathan, who passes it to Max at the blue line. I skate in, waiting at the blue line and watching them set up plays. My eyes follow the puck while it’s passed to Max, then Matthew, and then Phil. They make a box, trying to get inside the box that the other team has made.

When the puck is poke checked from Dallas and goes to Nathan, I skate in a bit of what I call my sweet spot. I see him with control of the puck, and he sends it my way, so I wind up my stick and slap it to the goalie. It slips under his pad, hitting the back of the net. I point at Nathan, who smiles and comes over. “Nice pass,” I tell him when he hits my head with his glove.

Max comes over. “Welcome to the team.” He laughs as we skate back to the bench to high-five everyone.

Matthew skates in behind me. “Glad you’re on my team,” he says, and I go to sit on the bench, squeezing water in my mouth as the announcer says my name. We end up winning the game. I walk to the back and find the reporters waiting around to talk to me.

“So how does it feel to wear different colors?” one of them asks me, and I just look at him with a smile.

“It feels the same,” I tell him. “The Stingers are a great organization, and I’m happy to be part of the team,” I answer, taking a sip of water.

“Is it true that you took a pay cut just to get out of Arizona?” a female reporter I’ve never seen before asks me.

“Like I said, the Stingers are a great organization, and I’m lucky to be here.” I smirk at her while she just almost glares at me.

I answer a couple of more question till Coach tells them everyone out. I grab my things and finally head to the shower. I’m one of the last ones on the bus, wearing a beanie hat on my head. Olivier comes over and hands me my phone, and I nod at him.

“Nothing to report,” he says. I look down to check my messages and see that Sarah messaged me.

He was really tired tonight and went to bed as soon as we got home. He wanted to sleep in your bed for when you come home. He has lots of stories to tell you.

She sends me a picture of Jack sleeping in my big king-size bed, pillows all around him, wearing Paw Patrol pjs with one foot on top of the blanket and one under.

When I get in after two a.m., I dump my bag at the door and walk upstairs quietly. I get into bed with him, trying not to wake him, but he wakes anyway.

“Daddy,” he says quietly, and I pull him to my chest, wrapping my arms around him.

“I’m home.” I kiss his head, feeling his little whiskers. “Sleep,” I tell him, and soon, his soft snores fill the room, and I follow him.

I’m at the stove wearing my shorts the next morning. Sarah just left for the day and will be back tomorrow afternoon when we have a game. Jack sits at the island coloring another picture; this time for Mallory.

He told me all about his trip to the hospital and how he didn’t cry.

I place his sunny-side up eggs on the plate with two slices of toast cut into strips so he can dip it.

“Here you go.” I smile at him and place two eggs on my own plate, sitting down next to him.

“We need to make a toast,” he says, grabbing a piece of toast and holding it up in front of him. “To me getting better,” he says, and I grab my toast and hold it up as he taps his piece on mine, then dips it in his egg yolk. I shake my head.

“Where did you learn that?”

“Dr. Denise,” he tells me while he chews. “We did it with french fries.”

“Did you?” I laugh, and he says we should do it again. And again and again until nothing is left on his plate.

“What do you want to do today?” I ask him.

“Can we go to the park?” he asks, and I look down at him. He used to love the park. He would beg to go there until the bruising got so bad we said no more. “I’ll be careful,” he says, and I nod my head.

“Yeah, why don’t we walk around the neighborhood and see where there is one?”

“Yeah.” He celebrates, throwing his hands up in the air.

I place the dishes in the sink, and my phone rings, showing me it’s Chantal.

“Hello,” I say.

“I can’t believe you,” she says, and I look over at Jack. Putting my hand on the microphone, I tell Jack to go upstairs and get dressed.

“What can I help you with?”

“I just got served divorce papers,” she says loudly, “at the fucking gym. In front of everybody.” I understand now why she’s pissed. She wants everyone to think she’s got everything going on for her. “Do you know how embarrassed I was?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I smile. “Jack’s doing okay, thanks for asking.”

“Ugh,” she says, “I know he’s fine or you would have called and guilt-tripped me into coming and seeing him.”

I shake my head. “You’re unreal,” I tell her. “You never have to see him again. I’ll add that to the divorce decree.”

“I want the house,” she says, “and everything inside it.”

“Take it,” I say to her. If it will get me Jack without her, she can have it.

“I also want alimony. You got me used to a lifestyle, and it shouldn’t change just because we aren’t together,” she huffs.

Now, I really laugh. “You’re right; your life shouldn’t change just because we are getting divorced or because your son is sick.”

“Oh, please,” she says, and I imagine her rolling her eyes. “I wanted us to do this peacefully.”

“I’ll have my lawyer contact yours.”

“I don’t have a lawyer,” she says.

“Ask Colton; you could use the one he used when he divorced his second wife.”

“You’re an asshole,” she seethes.

“This has been fun,” I tell her. “Take care.” I hang up and then call my lawyer.

“Mr. Morrow,” she answers right away. “She’s been served.”

“I know. I had the pleasure of her calling me.”

“Good,” she says, “that’s what I wanted. Did she ask for Jack?”

“No,” I tell her, “she wants the house and alimony.”

“What do you want me to do?” she asks me. “I know what I want to do, but it’s not my call.”

“She can have the house and everything inside. I packed up everything I wanted when we left.”

“What about alimony?” she asks, and I inform her of a fact that Chantal doesn’t even know.

“I took a pay cut coming to New York. Will that help?” It is only for one year, then they will renegotiate the terms, but Chantal doesn’t need to know that.

“Yes,” she says, “I’ll see if her lawyer reaches out.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, and I hang up.

“I’m ready.” I hear Jack yell from somewhere in the house. I walk up the stairs, going to his room next door to mine and find his clothes all on the floor.

“What is this mess?” I ask him, and he looks at me and then around at the mess.

“I found my shirt,” he says, flattening the shirt with the Stingers logo on it. “It’s like Michael’s,” he says, and I nod at him.

“Now clean up the rest of the room while I go get dressed.” He walks around the room, bending and picking up things. When we walk out of the house twenty minutes later, we are both bundled up in our spring jackets, black Stingers beanies, and rubber boots for Jack and booties for me.

We walk down the street hand in hand as he points out the different places he wants to go to. The corner store, he wants to eat steak tonight, he says, walking in front of the butcher’s shop, and then he sees the flowers.

“We should buy Dr. Denise some flowers,” he says to me. “We could bring some to the hospital. There are lots of kids there,” he says as he skips next to me, swinging. “We can bring flowers to everyone, so they smile.”

“I don’t think we can bring them flowers, buddy, but,” I say, looking in the store and seeing handblown glass flowers. Each flower has a green stem and the top in different vibrant colors. A dark red, a light orange, a couple are pale yellow, a bright purple—the colors just pop. “You really want to bring everyone flowers?” I ask him, and he nods his head, smiling. “Let’s do it.”

We walk inside the store and grab all twenty-four of the flowers that they have. We get into a cab and make our way over to the hospital.

“She’s on floor three,” Jack tells me as we get into the elevator, and I press three.

“It’s here,” he says with glee when the elevator pings, and we walk out. “Ms. Mallory,” he says, jumping. “It’s me, Jumping Jack; I brought you flowers,” he says, pointing at me.

“Did you now?” she says, smiling.

“I’m Zack.” I smile at her, handing her one of the flowers. “I guess this is for you,” I tell her, and she leans down and kisses Jack on the cheek.

“Come and see Evie,” he says, walking down the hallway as if he’s at home.

He knocks on the door, and a little girl looks up from her bed. Her mother looks up also. “Evie, I brought flowers,” he says to her, walking in.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I tell the mother who looks at Jack with a huge smile.

“She has been asking for him all day,” she says, looking at me. “I’m Janet.”

“I’m Zack,” I tell her, and then Jack interrupts us.

“Look, Dad,” he says, taking his hat off. “We have the same head.” He smiles.

“You do.” I smile at him as he leaves his hat off. “We have to go deliver more flowers,” Jack tells Evie, who just closes her eyes.

“She’s not having that great of a day,” Janet says. “My husband is trying to get in today to visit, but he’s been working two jobs,” she says with a tired smile.

“Jack, let’s let Evie rest,” I tell him and then smile at Janet. “We will see you later. I’ll have Jack come back and say goodbye before we leave.”

We continue walking down the hall and most of the nurses have already heard about Jumping Jack when we come face-to-face with Denise.

“Dr. Denise,” Jack says, running to her. She smiles and grabs him in her arms. I watch her, and I’m in awe of her. She doesn’t have a stitch of makeup on, her hair is piled on her top of her head, and she is wearing jeans with flat shoes.

“Hey there,” I say when I get closer to them. She looks at me and smiles a genuine smile, and she looks beautiful.

“Hey there yourself.” She looks at the flowers in my hand. “What is all that?”

“Jack thought we could cheer people up, so we brought flowers,” I tell her, and she turns back to Jack.

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest little boy ever.” She turns to kiss his cheek.

“And strong,” he reminds her as his hand plays with the hair on the side of her head that has fallen loose.

She leans in and whispers to him, “The strongest I have ever met.”

He nods his head at her as she continues to tell him how brave he is and how special he is, and my son just eats it up. And if I’m honest, he isn’t the only one.