Page 2

CHAPTER TWO

Carter

I stand up from my seat on my closed toilet, flushing it for good measure. The only break I get from Hallie and Charlotte’s nonstop questions is when I’m showering or sitting on the can. Do I come in here even when I don’t have to go? Yeah, so I can have a little bit of peace.

“There you are!” Hallie runs up to me as soon as I walk downstairs. “Uncle Carter, you poop a lot.”

“I eat lots of fiber.”

“What’s fiber?”

“It’s something healthy foods have.”

She grins, her toothy smile and brown curls reminding me of my sister when she was a kid. “I want some fiber. Can we have it for dinner?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

I order from DoorDash every night I’m home because I can’t cook. Suki has been cooking on the days she’s here, and she’s a damn good cook. Today’s a Sunday off for me, so the girls had some of Suki’s homemade granola bars for breakfast and I made them grilled cheese for lunch, which is about the extent of what I can handle cooking. We’ll order in for dinner.

“Will you color with me?” Hallie asks.

I sigh inwardly. I’ve already colored for more than two hours today. It’s hard to say no when she gives me those big, hopeful eyes, though.

“Sure. What are your sisters up to?”

She takes my hand and walks me into the kitchen. “Olivia’s watching a show with kissing and Charlotte’s doing her hair.”

Sounds innocent enough. Hallie sits down and I take the chair across from hers at the small table on one side of my kitchen.

It’s a damn good thing I bought a huge house when I got traded to Cleveland four years ago. I chose it so I could be in a secure, gated community after one of my old teammates had a crazed fan show up at his house with weapons after a game loss.

The house sat mostly empty until five weeks ago when I got a phone call telling me Rachel had passed away in her sleep from an undiagnosed heart condition at age thirty-six. She was only five years older than I am now. My aunt Rosie met me in San Diego, where we buried my sister, packed up three grieving little girls and came back here.

Aunt Rosie stayed for a week to help the girls get settled. She’s been like a second mom since my mom--her sister--died nine years ago. But unfortunately, she’s a busy tech exec in Silicon Valley who never had kids and couldn’t take on the responsibility of helping me any longer.

I’ll never know why Rachel left her daughters to me in her will. Surely she had friends who would’ve been better than me at this.

“What are you drawing, Uncle Carter?” Hallie asks me.

“This is more manifesting. It’s me holding up the championship cup at the end of the season.”

“That’s a big cup.”

“Yep. What are you drawing?”

“Mommy in heaven.”

Her small voice saying those words guts me. Rachel was a great mom and it’s so fucking unfair she won’t get to finish raising her daughters. I have perfunctory uncle holding his baby niece photos for each of them, but I never spent much time with them since we lived so far apart.

At least, that’s one of the excuses I gave myself every time I declined an invite to fly to San Diego for holidays or just to visit and spend time hanging out with my nieces.

It’s too far to travel. I’m too busy with hockey. I have to stay focused on my training to remain on top.

And now it’s too late. My sister will never call me again and try to sweet-talk me into coming for Thanksgiving with promises of making Mom’s oyster stuffing and pecan pie cheesecake. I’d give anything to get a call from her right now.

“Who’s that?” I ask Hallie, who’s drawing something small and brown next to the figure of Rachel with angel wings.

“A dog. Mommy and Charlotte are allergic to dogs, so we couldn’t have one, but Suki said there are no allergies in heaven, so I think Mommy plays with dogs all the time.”

This is fucking brutal. All three girls are trying to process the loss of Rachel, and not only am I hurting along with them, but I never know what to say. Even the nannies are better at comforting them than I am.

“I bet she is.”

“I’m going to draw her twenty dogs. Do you think that’s enough?”

“Yeah, I think petting twenty dogs would be enough to keep anyone pretty busy.”

I look up when I hear someone walk into the room and see ten-year-old Charlotte. Her hair makes me do a double take. Earlier, her light-brown hair hung halfway down her back and now it’s...gone.

“What the hell did you do?” The words fly out of my mouth as I take in the hatchet job on her hair. It’s cut jagged and uneven at the nape of her neck and her bangs are short, half-inch-long spikes.

She gives me an unbothered look. “I cut my hair.”

“I see that.” I stand up and walk over to her. “Did it go the way you wanted?”

She shrugs, walks over to the fridge and takes out a bottle of apple juice. “I didn’t want bangs anymore.”

I’m supposed to have an argument for that. Rachel would. But it seems logical to me. She didn’t want bangs so she cut off her bangs. And now she’s going to get teased by asshole kids at school over it. Hell, the school might even think this is somehow my fault. That’s the last thing I need as I’m trying to expedite the adoption process.

“Have you looked in a mirror?” I demand.

“Charlotte, no!” I’ve never seen the oldest of the girls, twelve-year-old Olivia, react so forcefully to anything. “What did you do?”

Olivia’s eyes fill with tears as she walks into the kitchen and sees her sister’s hair.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Charlotte says with an edge.

“You look so bad!”

“Not as bad as you.” Charlotte wrinkles her face in a sneer.

“Mom said we should never cut our own hair. You ruined it!”

I put a hand up. “Okay, girls. Let’s not fight about it. It’s already done.”

“Give me the scissors,” Olivia says sharply. “You don’t get to have them anymore.”

Charlotte slams her juice down on the kitchen island, liquid sloshing out of the bottle. “Stop trying to act like Mom!”

Olivia narrows her eyes and gives me a look. “Aren’t you going to do something?”

“Like what? I can’t put her hair back.”

She pinches her brows together in an expression that reminds me so much of my sister I feel a tug in my chest. “You can’t just do nothing! Take away the scissors! Punish her!”

Charlotte’s hands are fisted at her sides. “It’s not your business, Olivia! You’re the one who should be punished for watching an R-rated movie!”

Olivia’s cheeks turn pink. I give her my best stern look. “You were watching an R-rated movie?”

“You’re such a brat!” she yells at Charlotte.

“Me? I w--”

“That’s it, girls!” I look between them. “Not another word out of either one of you.”

Charlotte locks eyes with me, glowering. Olivia’s gaze is fixed on the floor, her arms crossed. But they both stay quiet.

“Charlotte, you need to bring me every pair of scissors you have. From now on, you need to ask me before you use them.”

Her mouth forms an indignant O . “What? That’s not fair.”

“I’m the law in this house, so I decide what’s fair.”

That’s what my dad used to say when Rachel and I were kids. I hated it then, but it makes a lot of sense when you’re standing on this side of an argument with a child.

I look at Olivia. “And you aren’t allowed to watch anything on a screen without getting my permission first.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very serious.”

Charlotte starts to stomp off, but I say, “You need to clean up your mess.”

She gets some paper towels and wipes up the juice, scowling. Olivia walks over to the fridge and opens it.

“What’s for dinner?” she asks.

“I’ll order something.” I look at the clock and see that it’s almost 4:30 p.m. “Do you guys want me to order now?”

“Can we get pizza?” Hallie asks, still coloring.

“We just had pizza last night,” Charlotte says. “I want Chinese food.”

“That’s not healthy,” Olivia says.

I grab a fresh piece of paper from the package of computer printer paper I bought for Hallie to color on. If only I could manifest peace between these girls. They can go from hugging to arguing in five seconds flat.

“What’s your idea, then?” Charlotte demands of Olivia.

“We should eat something with vegetables.”

“Chinese food has vegetables.”

“Well, it’s not healthy. We should eat something like Suki makes.”

“I want cheesy soup,” Hallie says to me.

One of the meals Suki made us last week was broccoli cheese soup, salad and bread, and it was great. All three girls had seconds. I wonder if I could convince Suki to come here and cook dinner on the weekends. With Chad, the girls’ deadbeat dad, making rumblings about challenging me for custody of them, I need to do everything I can to make it clear in court that my home is more stable. Home-cooked meals can only help.

“I’ll order from the Italian place,” I say, settling it. “They have pizza, pasta, sandwiches, salads. Everyone can get whatever they want.”

“Do they have Chinese food?” Charlotte asks.

Olivia rolls her eyes. “Of course not, you idiot. It’s Italian .”

“Don’t call names.” Hallie scolds Olivia from her seat at the table.

“Yeah.” Charlotte gives Olivia a dirty look. “Don’t call names.”

“What are you going to do about her hair?” Olivia asks me.

I pretend to be focused on my drawing for a couple of seconds because I don’t know what to say. But I have to sound like the authority figure. What the hell would Rachel do?

All three of them are looking at me expectantly. When I can’t stall anymore, I say, “There’s nothing I can do. She has to just grow it out.”

Olivia balks. “You could get her a wig.”

“I’m not wearing a wig!” Charlotte wails.

“At least it looks like normal hair.”

I pick up my phone and get up from the table. I’m counting the minutes until I get to go to practice in the morning. The guys can put me in goal with no pads if they want and I’ll happily take body shots. It would be better than mediating disputes between these bickering girls.

“Where are you going, Uncle Carter?” Hallie asks me.

I don’t even look back as I say, “To the bathroom.”