Page 70 of Goal Line (Boston Rebels #4)

Chapter Fifty-One

LUKE

“ T here are our girls,” my dad bellows as he walks into the hospital room with my mom and Eva’s parents. Making a beeline to the hospital bed where Eva is cradling Gigi in her arms, he asks, “How’s my perfect little granddaughter doing today?”

“She’s good,” Eva says, stroking our daughter’s cheek. She sleeps most of the day, but the nurses assure us that’s normal for preemies because they require more rest for growth and development than full-term babies. But right now, Gigi’s eyes are open and she’s semi-alert.

Mom had texted earlier to make sure it was okay for all four of them to show up together. It’s the first time we’ve had this many visitors at a time.

Gigi spent the first seventy-two hours after her birth in the NICU before she was moved to the special care nursery, but she’s doing well enough now that the nurses can bring her to Eva’s room for a few hours at a time.

It’s a nice change and means that Eva doesn’t have to go to the nursery every time Gigi needs to nurse.

We’re settling into a nice routine here at the hospital, but Eva and I are both looking forward to bringing Gigi home.

Eva’s blood pressure hasn’t come down enough for her to be discharged yet, but it’s close. At least she can shower and move about normally, and now that her dietary restrictions are lifted, she’s thrilled that I can bring her food so she doesn’t have to eat the hospital meals.

Eva hands Gigi to her mom, and our parents settle in and take turns holding and fawning over their first grandchild. I turn and gaze at my wife, sitting cross-legged on her bed. Although I can tell that she’s tired, she looks as happy as I’ve ever seen her.

And what’s more, each time her parents have visited, the tension between Eva and her mom has lessened. Knowing that her mother meant what she said about doing the work to improve their relationship is a huge relief.

After Eva’s parents had left the other night, she looked at me and said, “I didn’t realize how reactive I always used to be around my mom.

It’s like I expected her to be a bitch and jumped on every single thing she said or did, no matter how minor, as evidence to support that narrative.

Now that I’ve accepted that she’s trying hard to change, I can see a lot more good in her. ”

My mom tears herself away from her granddaughter to ask Eva how she’s feeling.

“Great, actually. My blood pressure is almost totally normal now, and the doctor said I might be able to go home in a couple days.”

“What about Gigi? ”

“She should be able to come home soon, too. They’re actually going to let her sleep here in my room tonight. She’ll still be monitored, but if she does okay for a couple nights, we’ll be able to go home at the same time.”

“You both must be looking forward to that,” Helene says, looking up from where she sits on the sofa with Gigi in her arms.

“So much,” I tell her, at the same time Eva says, “God, yes.”

We chat for a few more minutes before Eva asks me to refill her water bottle. As I step out into the hallway, my dad follows.

“So, I got a bill from the lawyers the other day,” he says, and I freeze mid-stride, turning to look at him.

“I . . . thought they’d bill me directly.”

“They’re on retainer for the family,” Dad reminds me. “Everything comes through me.”

It hadn’t occurred to me to ask the lawyers to keep my father in the dark about our meeting. But they probably wouldn’t have agreed anyway. Dad is where he is in life because he’s always been keenly aware of everything that’s happening around him—both personally and professionally.

“You going to tell me why you needed to meet with them early on a Saturday morning?” he asks when I fail to say anything.

I consider my options here. I could refuse and just tell him to send me the bill.

But I worry that could harm our relationship.

On the other hand, if I tell him the truth, he’ll know that Gigi isn’t my biological daughter.

My name is on her birth certificate and her last name is Hartmann. Hans is permanently out of our lives.

Is it worth telling him everything at this point ?

I think about all the secrets, lies, and misunderstandings that have brought us to this point, and how heavy it’s been to carry them.

So I steer my dad toward the alcove that contains the ice and water dispensers.

Once we’re tucked away, where I hope no one can overhear, I quietly tell him the whole story, going back to even before Game 7, when I first learned Eva was pregnant.

When I finish, he just nods and says, “I’m glad you came clean. Finally.”

“What do you mean, finally?”

“I know you, and if you’d been dating Eva secretly for months, there’s no way you could have hidden that from everyone. How you felt about her has always been crystal clear to everyone but her. So yes, even though I didn’t doubt your feelings for each other, I did doubt your timeline.”

“Do you think anyone else is suspicious?”

He chuckles. “Preston definitely was at first, but Tucker and Tristan convinced him that, of course, you’d been secretly dating the whole time because you’re, and I quote, ‘whipped enough to go along with whatever Eva wants.’”

I cough out a laugh, then wash it down with a sip of water from Eva’s water bottle. They’re not wrong about the last part.

“I’m sorry you had to learn the truth this way, though,” I say.

“I understand why you kept this to yourself. The old adage is true: two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead.”

My lips creep up at one corner. “So who’s killing who in this scenario?”

Dad just shakes his head at me, his pink cheeks rounding as he smiles. “I’m old enough to keep your secret until I actually go to my grave.”

“Well that’s fucking morbid, Dad.” My whole body tenses at the thought. Dad’s old, yes, but he’s a giant of a man, metaphorically speaking at least, and it’s impossible to imagine our family without him.

“I’m not getting any younger, so I’m glad to see you settled before I go.” He pauses and then says, “And for the record, Eva is family. As far as I’m concerned, you are the only father that Gigi has or will ever have.”

I nod and feel some tension that I didn’t realize I was holding release.

“I’m glad you leaned on your brothers for help with this,” he tells me. “And I’m glad you told me the whole truth.”

“You don’t mind keeping it to yourself, though, right? We’re not planning on sharing that story with anyone else.”

“You’d be shocked at the things I know and have kept to myself over the years. Speaking of keeping things to yourself,” he says, “let’s go back to your story and address what you overheard in AJ’s office.”

“I know,” I say, shaking my head. “I should have said something right away.”

“How in the ever-loving hell could you think that I didn’t want you on the Rebels because you weren’t good enough? How could you think it was anything other than what it was: me wanting to be your dad, and not your boss?”

“Dad, you’re everyone’s boss. Did you ever regret having Preston, Tristan, or Tucker working for you?”

“Working for me and playing for me are two very different things.”

“How so? ”

“Because if I want to influence the decisions they make in their role, I just do it. If I need them to do things differently, I tell them. Hockey—and the Rebels franchise—is different. I have no power over how good you are at your job, nor can I do anything to help you improve. And unlike Hartmann Enterprises, which isn’t a publicly traded company and therefore not subject to stockholders’ whims, the decisions made for and about the Rebels players are mostly out of my hands.

That’s AJ’s realm of expertise. She handles hiring, trading, firing, and pretty much everything in between.

I didn’t want it to look like the Rebels acquired you—or kept you on if you underperformed—because of nepotism. ”

“But it wasn’t you who asked for me to be traded to the Rebels.”

“Outside the organization, I’m sure most people assume you were acquired because you’re my son. And I never wanted my role as your father and owner of that team to come into conflict.”

“I appreciate that, actually. And I’m sorry that I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

“Remember how your mom always used to say eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves?” Dad teases, lightening the mood.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, and once I heard my name, I hightailed it out of there.”

“Thus not getting the whole story.”

“What would I have heard had I stayed, or announced myself?” I ask curiously.

“Exactly what I just told you, because that’s what I told AJ. You should have at least asked your brother if you didn’t want to talk to me about it,” Dad says. “The fact that you didn’t feel like you could come to your family about this...”

I can feel my cheeks heat under his gaze. “I was embarrassed. I was already a wreck over how I’d played in Game 7, I felt like I’d let everyone down—the fans, my team, and, worst of all, my family.”

“Son, there’s nothing you could do that would make me love you less. You know that, right?”

I swallow the lump that rises in my throat when I hear the words that my dad used to say all the time when I was a kid. If I ever got in trouble, got a bad grade, lost a game, his response was always the same.

“Yeah, Dad, I do. I just...I got in my own head about it all.”

“Next time, come talk to me first—before you make assumptions about our family, and before you make big decisions. I’m happy to be a sounding board, voice of reason, or shoulder to cry on. And always remember that I am, first and foremost, your father.”

My whole body relaxes. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

“We should probably get back before they all start to wonder why it took so long to fill a water bottle,” Dad says, motioning me back into the hallway, where we run into Christopher, accompanied by a tall brunette.

I introduce him to my dad, and he introduces us to his girlfriend, Jenn.

Based on what Eva told me about Christopher, I’m initially surprised he’s already labeled their relationship.

But when I think about it, Eva and I have gotten married and had a baby in the same amount of time, so I suppose that’s long enough for him to go from meeting someone to calling her his girlfriend .

We bring them back to Eva’s room, and our parents say their goodbyes as they head out for a dinner reservation.

“I feel so bad that the first time I’m meeting you is in the hospital,” Jenn says to Eva, as she and Christopher take a seat. Gigi is now asleep in my arms, swaddled in her blanket after Eva fed her while Dad and I were conversing in the hallway.

“Please,” Eva says with a smile. “We’re the ones who had to keep canceling on you guys.”

“With good reason,” Christopher says, as he gently rubs Jenn’s back. He hasn’t taken his hands off her in the few minutes they’ve been in this room.

“Do either of you want to hold her?” I ask.

Jenn’s eyebrows lift. “Really? Oh my god, yes. I love babies.”

I set Gigi in her arms, smiling as Jenn coos about “her perfect little nose . . . those eyelashes . . . her little Cupid’s bow.”

Eva’s still alert and sitting up in bed, but I know she’s also exhausted. She makes me go home every night to sleep because “at least one of us should be well rested,” but she’s up every few hours nursing Gigi, and that’s got to take a toll.

Once we’re all back home, I plan to get up whenever Gigi wakes.

Although Eva will have to do the actual nursing, I can burp and rock her back to sleep, so that my wife can catch a few more moments of rest. I’ve also been looking into the possibility of hiring a newborn care specialist for the nights, once my season starts up again and I’m back to traveling.

In the meantime, I’m determined to make this a quick visit so that she can get some sleep.

“So the doctors say I can start going for walks to rebuild my stamina as soon as I’m out of the hospital,” Eva tells Christopher while Jenn whispers to Gigi.

“They also said in another week or two, I can get back on skates, but literally just skating in circles, nothing strenuous until six weeks postpartum. Given that I gave birth over a month early, it’ll mean we have even more time to train before the competition. ”

Although I know Eva is excited to get back on the ice, it sounds a little like she’s trying to reassure Christopher that she’ll be able to carry her weight as soon as possible.

“Hey,” he says, tilting his chin and lifting an eyebrow, “slow down. You just had a baby. Give yourself some time to recover. We’ll work it out.”

I’ve never liked him more than I do at this moment, knowing that he’s got Eva’s best interests at heart. Maybe it’s time to change his name in my contacts to remove the expletive.

“I know,” she says with a sigh, “but my mind just keeps going to how it’s going to work out. How soon I can start lifting weights and rebuilding my muscles, how soon we can start training.”

“Sounds like the doctor’s already told you, six weeks postpartum. We’ll work out a plan with Lynette once you’re back home. I know she’s dying to meet the baby, too.”

“Maybe we can meet up at the rink in a few weeks. Luke’s setting up some interviews with nannies once I’m home.

After we’ve found someone and picked a start date, I’d love to come back to the ice.

” She pauses when she notices the uncertain look in Christopher’s eyes.

“Just to skate around a bit, nothing more. No spins, no jumps...nothing strenuous, I promise.”

“You want to hold her?” Jenn asks Christopher, and he looks so damn uncomfortable. The old me would have insisted he hold her and asked him if he wanted kids, just to mess with him. But I’m no longer interested in being a dick to my wife’s skating partner. So, I rescue him.

“I think Gigi needs to go back to the special care nursery, actually. They want to monitor her for a while before she comes back here to sleep tonight. You want to walk her back with me?” I ask Jenn.

“Sure,” she says, standing with Gigi and laying her in the bassinet.

As we wheel my daughter out of the room, I’m reassured to hear Christopher reminding Eva, again, not to rush back to the rink. Nothing about Gigi’s premature birth was ideal, but them having six weeks longer than expected to train before the qualifiers is at least a silver lining.