Jackson cradled his cell phone between his ear and his shoulder as he laced his skates two weeks later. “What’s going on with the team? Taylor said she hasn’t played a game since I left and neither has Dani,” he asked Darryl above the noise in the locker room in the arena. Their game against the Alaska Aces was starting in fifteen minutes, but he’d just gotten off the phone with a tearful Taylor, and that wasn’t like his niece. He needed to know what was going on back home.
“Oh, man, I hate to tell you this—you’ve got enough to be focused on…” his friend said.
“Tell me. It’s worse if I don’t know.” Not that he could do anything about the situation. Even though he was only two hours away, he may as well be on a different planet. Coming in late to the season didn’t give him an excuse not to pull his weight with the team, and he had more to prove than the other guys. He trained and practiced before everyone else, and later than everyone else. Admittedly, it was taking his almost thirty-year-old body a lot longer to adjust to the grueling early morning workouts, practice, drills, and then game schedule than it had when he was twenty-two. But then, he hadn’t expected this to be easy. Being selected for the team among the group of twenty-somethings who had shown up that day—all eager, all motivated, all driven to make it—had shocked the hell out of him.
And now he was working hard to prove they’d made the right decision bringing him back.
If only he could quiet the persistent nagging in the back of his mind that asked whether or not he had made the right one.
Staying busy and draining himself physically and emotionally also helped him keep his mind off Abby. She’d sent her congratulations through Taylor, but that was the last he’d heard from her.
“I couldn’t take over the team, the school sport programs are taking up so much of my time, so Kurt Miller stepped up, and he hasn’t played the girls at all. He has no intention of playing them. Obviously he’s hoping they’ll quit.”
Jackson clenched his jaw. He’d been worried the league would replace him with Kurt, and they had. “Have you tried talking to him about it?”
“Of course, man. He’s not hearing a word I say. Sorry, Jackson, but with you not here, the team isn’t doing so well. Even Dex is frustrated and not playing his best anymore.”
“That’s because Kurt’s not playing the girls,” he said a little too loudly, earning looks from the other players. He sighed. “I’ll see if I can make some calls tomorrow, try to get him replaced.” He’d been a coach for the league for a long time. He hoped he could have some influence over the issue.
“That’s not going to help Dex,” Darryl said.
No, it wouldn’t. The poor kid had talent. It was a shame his father was an asshole. “Well, what do I do?”
“Jackson, I know you care about this team and those kids, but you’re not the coach anymore. You’re moving on to your own goals. Focus on those and forget about all of this back here. Otherwise you’ll drive yourself crazy, man. There’s nothing you can do; that’s why I didn’t tell you about all of this myself.”
He sighed as he disconnected the call a moment later, knowing his buddy was right but feeling terrible and helpless. He hadn’t expected this odd sense of homesickness he was experiencing or the longing he felt to hear a familiar voice or see a familiar face.
One in particular.
“All right, game time,” Coach Turner said, coming into the locker room.
As he reached for his jersey and pulled it down over his head, Jackson forced the Atom team out of his mind and chased away images of Abby. None of that would help him win the game. And right now, this game against Alaska was the only thing he had any control over.
* * *
His feet had been in his skates for over nine hours. Sweat pooled on his lower back under his jersey, and his legs were moving on autopilot. He hadn’t slept more than four hours a night in weeks, and his joints creaked and felt stiff when he tried to get up every morning.
But it was all worth it, he told himself. After all, this shot meant everything to him, didn’t it?
“Westmore, Coach Turner wants to see you in his office,” the assistant coach said, sticking his head into the crowded locker room after the game.
All his teammates stopped talking, stopped moving, probably stopped breathing based on the dead silence that fell over the room. All eyes stared at him.
“Okay, I’ll just hit the showers…”
“He needs to see you now.”
He swallowed hard, placing his hands on his knees to push his seizing muscles to a standing position. They’d won eight games straight. He’d assisted in nine of the fourteen goals, and he’d done his job protecting the goalie. If the coach was finally realizing he had recruited an almost thirty-year-old player, at least Jackson had had a good run. “Okay,” he said, trying to hide what a struggle it was just to walk to the other side of the arena to Coach Turner’s office.
He knocked once and the coach nodded him in. His cell was cradled against his shoulder and ear while he typed furiously. “Yes. Sending it all to you now. Tomorrow…Phoenix…Okay.” He disconnected the call. “You’re being sent up.”
He what? He stood there staring at that man, wondering if he’d heard him right.
“Don’t thank me or anything,” Coach Turner said in the silence.
Shit. He hadn’t actually said anything. “Sorry, um, thank you…I mean, I…Can I sit?” His legs had decided not to support him anymore.
Coach Turner, a thin man who’d always looked old, even when he was young, nodded his balding head. “For like thirty seconds, then you need to get to the airport.”
Airport? That night? So much for the next two days off. He’d been planning on going home. After that call from Taylor and the talk with Darryl, he wanted to check in on the team, talk to the head of the minor leagues.
“Westmore, you hearing any of this?”
He blinked. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re going to play in Phoenix under Coach Foster. They just had their best defensive player taken out with a stick to the shin—broken in three places. They asked if I had an experienced player they could use as a third line if needed tomorrow night. You’re it.”
He still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what the coach was saying. Maybe because he still believed getting this far had been a fluke or some weird obligation the organization felt to the Westmore name. “Okay…Yes…Thank you,” he said.
“Westmore, snap out of it! You’re going to play an NHL game.”
Was he? Or would he sit on the sidelines again—so close to the action, and not getting a chance to prove himself. He’d been in this position before and it had broken him. Could he really survive the disappointment again if things didn’t work out? Especially while his heart was still aching for another dream that had been within reach. “I’m just…”
“Surprised? Confused? Exhausted? Hoping they don’t bench you again?”
“Yes.”
“Well, add rested and focused to that before tomorrow night. This is your shot, man. You’re not a kid anymore—make the best of it. Now go before I change my mind. Truth is, I don’t want to lose you from my team,” he grumbled, indeed looking as though he might change his mind about sending him any second.
He nodded as he stood, no longer even feeling his body. “Yes sir, Coach. Thank you. I won’t let you down,” he said.
“Westmore.”
He paused and turned back.
“Don’t let yourself down.”
* * *
When the text message from Becky arrived, Abigail was surrounded by Christmas presents, wrapping paper, bows, and ribbons, in the middle of her bedroom floor, trying to get an early start to her holiday preparations. Christmas was three weeks away, and she wanted this year to be extra special. But after reading Baby on the way! she’d stuffed everything back into the walk-in closet and had woken Dani, and the two were on their way to the hospital within minutes.
“How is she?” she asked Neil when they saw him pacing the hallway.
“Trying to suffer through without the epidural.”
Good God, why? She’d gladly accepted the needle to the spine when the contractions on Dani had been at their worst. “She’s a superstar,” she said, glancing at Taylor, who’d come out of the room, looking slightly green.
“You okay?” she asked the little girl whose eyes were wide.
“I’m not going back in there,” she said.
Abigail laughed. “I’ll take a shift with her if you guys need a break.”
Neil held up the back of his right hand to show four nail-shaped flesh wounds. “Don’t let her hold your hand.”
“Thanks for the warning,” she said with a smile. “Dani, do you want to go in and say hi?”
Taylor was shaking her head. “Don’t do it, Dani.”
Dani laughed. “I’ll stay out here.”
“Okay.” She walked down the quiet, nearly empty hospital corridor and went into the room. “Hi.”
“Oh thank God you’re here,” Becky said as she sat on a stability ball, rolling it around in front of the bed. She clutched the sheets in front of her as another contraction started, and she panted through it. “Remind me again why I’m doing this.”
Abigail just smiled, and two hours later, Becky held the reminder—a beautiful baby girl—in her arms wrapped in a pink blanket, the wool hat too big for her tiny head, as Abigail reentered the room after waiting out the final moments in the waiting area with the girls while Neil helped his wife through the delivery.
Also on Becky’s lap was her laptop, and Abigail stopped short of approaching when she heard Jackson’s voice coming from the screen. “She’s perfect, sis.”
Her heart raced at the sound she hadn’t realized she’d missed so much until that moment.
“It’s Jackson Skyping in from Phoenix,” Becky explained, glancing up at her. “He got called up and couldn’t be here.”
Called up? Already? Wow. “That’s incredible,” she said, hoping she sounded sincere. Praying her further breaking heart wasn’t evident in her voice. “Tell him congratulations.” She forced her attention to the baby girl in her friend’s arms and not the screen on her lap. Jackson was in Phoenix, playing for the NHL…His dream was coming true. So why did it feel as though hers were falling apart? She had to pull it together and start moving on.
He was.
“Tell him congratulations yourself,” Becky said with an evil grin as she turned the computer monitor toward her.
Panic rose in her chest as she glanced at the old sweatshirt she wore and quickly smoothed her hair behind her ears. No makeup on, and she was about to see the man she was in love with for the first time in a month. Perfect. Thanks, Becky.
“Hi,” he said, smiling nervously as she accepted the laptop from Becky. Of course he looked amazing, if tired, in a white T-shirt, the hotel room in the background reminding her of all of the important times in her past when she’d had to Skype with Dean, while he was in a faraway hotel room, instead of there with them.
She swallowed hard. “Hi. Congratulations—Arizona—that’s wonderful.”
“Thanks, we won last night.”
“Well, congratulations again…” She felt like a moron. There was so much she longed to say to him, so much she longed to hear him say, but here they were at a standstill. He had his life to live, she had hers, and she wasn’t sure they could meet in some cyberspace middle.
“They’re keeping me up for one more game for sure. It’s tomorrow night against Colorado.”
Her heart stopped. He would be in Denver the following evening, playing in the NHL?
“If I reserve you tickets, would you and Dani be there with Taylor?” he asked, sounding unsure. “I mean, Becky won’t be able to go and I…I’d really love it if you could be there.”
Oh no. How was she supposed to go to his game? Watch the man she loved doing what he loved, knowing his decision to do it meant no chance at a future together. “I don’t…”
“I miss you, Abby,” he said, staring straight at her through the monitor.
In the bed, pretending not to listen while she cuddled her baby girl, Becky shot her a look.
She wanted to tell him she missed him, too. That she loved him. That maybe she was ready to figure out a way to make things work. The desperate feeling of wanting to say all of that, of wanting to hold him, kiss him, be with him was so strong…The realization that once again she could be in a situation where she felt like this while he was always out of reach, faraway in some hotel room, made her hold back the words. “Dani would never forgive me if I didn’t take her to your game. So, yes, we will be there.”
He looked disappointed, as though he’d been expecting more, hoping for more, but he smiled as he nodded. “Great. I look forward to seeing you…both.”
“Okay, I’ll pass you back to Becky now,” she said, handing her friend the laptop, and in exchange accepting the little pink bundle. Settling into the chair next to the bed, she cuddled the little girl into her chest and smiled down at the sleeping precious child as tears gathered in her eyes.
Thank God for little babies. They could easily be blamed for tears.
* * *
Turning off Dani’s bedroom light a few hours later, Abigail stared at her own little girl, wondering where the time had gone. It seemed like not so long ago that Dani had been a baby girl in her arms…She sniffed as she turned to go.
“You okay, Mom?” Dani asked, sitting up, wiping her tired eyes.
It had been a long, exciting night. “Yes, I’m great, sweetheart.”
“Thanks for agreeing to take Taylor and me to the game tomorrow night. I know it’s probably hard for you to go,” she said quietly.
Abigail went back into the room and sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m happy for Jackson. This is a wonderful opportunity.”
Her daughter nodded. “You know, Mom, if you wanted to move to Phoenix, that would be okay with me. I mean, I’d miss Taylor and Grandma and Grandpa, but if you love Coach Westmore, then it’s okay.”
Abigail hugged her daughter tightly. “I love you,” she said, kissing her forehead. “Now, try to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” She tucked her daughter back in, noticing the wooden jewelry box Jackson had made for her on Dani’s bedside table. “Where did you find that?” She’d assumed her mother had put it away, knowing it held the wedding rings.
“It was in one of my boxes. I found it while I was unpacking, and Grandma said maybe I should just keep it in my room,” Dani said.
Abigail picked it up and opened it. The rings caught the light of the moon coming through the open curtains, and she took them out of the box. “The rings are yours—they’ll probably pay for college,” she said with a soft smile, “but I think I’ll keep the jewelry box, if that’s okay.”
Her daughter nodded sleepily. “He must have loved you to make you something so pretty,” she mumbled, rolling over and closing her eyes.
Abigail held the jewelry box to her chest. Her daughter didn’t know just how right she was.