Page 131 of Goal Line

Her brows furrow and she looks almost like she’s pouting. “But do youlikeit?”

I do like it. But even more importantly, my wife likes it. So I squeeze her hand and tell her, “I love it.”

Chapter Fifty-One

LUKE

“There 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 changeand 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 yourfeelingsfor each other, Ididdoubt your timeline.”