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CHAPTER THREE: MORNING ROUTINE

STACEY

SEVEN YEARS LATER

I groan at the blaring alarm. Ugh. I don’t want to wake up yet. I was just having the best dream. Sebastian Stan was just ripping his clothes off because I accidentally spilled chocolate sauce on him. My alarm is persistent, and the shirtless image of chocolate covered abs slips away.

I slam my clock off, roll over, and throw my tangled mess of red hair out of my face. At the sound of little feet hurrying down the hallway toward my room, I grin sleepily.

Looking toward my door, I murmur, “Ten, nine, eight…”

Before I can finish my countdown, my rambunctious six-year-old bursts through the door, her red hair wild around her face and her blue eyes wide and bright. I feel a jolt in my heart at the sight of those blue eyes. It happens almost every time Millie looks at me. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but seeing his blue eyes peering up at me from my daughter’s face always jars me.

“Mommy!” she exclaims, jumping up onto the bed. “Good morning!”

“Good morning, Millie,” I say with a smile, wrapping her in my arms. “How’s my little snug-bug this morning?”

She giggles and wiggles out of my arms, then hops around the bed on her knees. She is pure joy wrapped up in an adorable little package, and I am so lucky to be her mother.

“Can we have pancakes for breakfast?” she asks.

How does she have so much energy so early in the morning? It’s barely 5 am.

Grinning, I gently boop her nose. “All right, sweetpea. Pick out your outfit for school, okay?”

She darts out of the room without a backward glance. I chuckle and shake my head, then get up. The morning proceeds as usual. I make breakfast and Millie comes rushing into the kitchen, dressed in a pink dress with a teddy bear on the front and matching pink leggings. While she eats, I work to tame her wild mane, spraying it with detangler and brushing through it before braiding it and tying it off with a pink scrunchy.

We’ve got this routine down to a science, but it hasn’t always been like this. I love Millie with all my heart, but being a single mom is no joke. Raising a baby when I was still basically a kid myself was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Thankfully, I had my Gram to help me until she had hip surgery last year and decided to go to an assisted living facility. As for Ow… I mean, he who shall not be named, he made it very clear what he thought of me, his child, and our relationship.

I quickly push any thoughts of him from my mind. It hurts too much to remember how he abandoned me.

Once Millie’s ready for school, I get myself ready for work. Midway through, just as I pull on my polo shirt with the Night Hawks’ Logo embroidered on the front, Millie comes running in again.

“Mommy, you’re going to make me late for school!”

I laugh. Millie really reminds me of Grace sometimes, with her Type A personality. She can’t stand being late, but since she’s six and can’t really tell time yet, she always just assumes that we’re falling behind.

“We won't be late, baby,” I assure her.

“But you’ve been up here for five hours!”

I tie my hair back into a ponytail.

“Honey, I’ve only been up here for about fifteen minutes.”

“But it feels like forever,” she whines, then stomps away. “Fiiiiine…”

I finish getting ready, knowing I have a limited amount of time before Millie’s patience runs out completely, and she starts getting restless. That would only lead to trouble. One morning, I took too long getting ready and when I got downstairs, she’d somehow managed to unplug every single electronic she could find and remove the batteries from all the remotes because she’d been bored. I found her building a tower out of the batteries in the middle of the living room floor with the satellite receiver box as its base.

Once I’m ready, I hurry downstairs and find Millie waiting for me with her shoes on and backpack secured around her shoulders. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, impatient.

“All right, all right, let’s go,” I say with a chuckle, ushering her out the front door. I lock it before heading down to the car, parked in the driveway. I’m lucky to have this house and this space—it’s Gram’s house, but she insisted that Millie and I stay here after she moved out. It’s been our home since Millie was born, and Gram didn’t want to take that from her.

We hit the road. I drive Millie to school, drop her off with a kiss, and head on my way; as much as I want to watch her walk into the building, I have to get to work. Once I’m pulling away from the elementary school, I dial up Lilah, her babysitter. She answers after two rings.

“Hey, Stacey,” she says in a chipper tone. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Lilah, I just wanted to confirm that you’re picking Millie up from school and watching her until I get home. I’m probably going to be a little late today.”

I still can hardly believe I was able to land this residency. I’ll forever be grateful to Grace for helping me get it through her connections with the team. Her brother and boyfriend are both players, and she’s the social media manager for her brother and several of his teammates. When I found out she was living in Denver, I’d wanted to reach out, but I was nervous. It’d been so long since we’d seen each other—what if she wasn’t the Grace I remembered? I finally gathered the courage to message her through social media a little over six months ago, and when we met up, it was like no time had passed at all. It was a huge relief, and I’ve loved having my friend back.

I’ve also loved everything about my physical therapy residency so far, even if it’s mainly consisted of organizing charts and preparing for the guys to arrive. Now, I’ve got a pile of checklists and paperwork waiting for me on my desk that needs to get done, plus I’ve got to get everyone on the team scheduled for the initial PT visit of the season. The next few weeks are going to be busy as we prepare for practices to officially start.

“Oh, yeah, meant to text you,” Lilah says and my shoulders tense. “I can pick Millie up, but I can’t watch her for very long today. Study group tonight.”

I suck in a deep breath.

“Is there no way you can reschedule, Lilah? I’m in a bit of a bind today.”

“Sorry, no can do. It’s a group project.”

My fingers tighten around the steering wheel. Lilah goes to a nearby community college, and she’s a wonderful babysitter… most of the time. Sometimes, she’s like this. She can be flighty and cancels work at the last minute because she forgot she had something else scheduled.

“All right, could you just bring her to the stadium, then? She can hang out in my office. Maybe even go skating. She likes to do that since the team isn’t around yet,”

“Cool, I can do that,” Lilah says. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Sounds good.”

I end the call, groaning. At least she’s good with Millie, who adores her. Whatever. It’s not the first time I’ve brought Millie to the stadium. Everyone loves her, and she knows how to behave.

Grace calls me a few minutes later.

“Good morning, gorgeous. How’s it going?”

“Oh, dandy,” Grace replies. “On your way to the stadium?”

“Yep, are you coming in today?”

“Not today. I’ve got meetings with a few brands for Carson to potentially rep during the season. However, I was thinking we could all get dinner together tonight with Skyler and the guys. You in?”

“I wish I could, but my babysitter bailed on me tonight. Maybe we could meet up sometime later this week?”

“Sure thing,” Grace agrees. “We’ll nail down the details later. Have a good day!”

I pull up to the stadium. The employee lot is barely half full since it’s still the off-season. Right before parking, I make one last call to Grandma. It’s early, but she’s always up practically at dawn, so I know I won’t be waking her.

“Good morning, Stacey,” Grandma says in her usual cheery voice when she answers the phone. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m fine, Gram,” I reply with a smile. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good. A little bit of indigestion this morning, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to bring you anything? I can be a little late for work…”

“No, no, no. You don’t need to be fussing over me, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. You focus on your work and on Millie. If I really need anything, I’ve got the staff here and my friends. I’m just fine.”

“Okay… if you’re sure.” I know she’s happy where she’s at. Her assisted living facility is lively and well kept, and she has a community of friends there. If I’m honest, I’m the one who doesn’t want her there because I miss her so much. Our house doesn’t feel like the same home without her around.

“Shouldn’t you be focused on your residency instead of this old lady? You’ve worked so hard to get this far, sweetheart.”

“I will always have time to worry about you, Gram.”

“I know, dear, but today, enjoy work and all the exciting things you get to do. Oh, and give Millie a kiss for me, okay? I know it’s her first day of school.”

I laugh. “Sure, Gram. I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, too.”

Despite her assurances, as we hang up, I feel guilty that I’m not doing more for her. I know if I pushed the issue, though, she’d just get stubborn and worked up, and I don’t want that either.

I lock the car and head inside. Making my way through the doors, I flash the security team my badge then continue on toward the PT offices. As I approach the therapy room, two huge figures rush to intercept me before I can go inside.

Jensen Reece and Carson Monroe grin like two teenagers with a juicy secret.

“Guess what, Stacey?” Jensen says, flashing his usual big, easygoing smile.

I tilt my head back to look up at both these giants who tower over my mere five feet four inches. “Okay, what are you two doing here? Especially so early on a Monday?”

Carson chuckles. “We wanted to get some skating in and hit the weight room. Gotta stay in fighting shape for the season, right?”

“Sure, sure, I get that,” I nod. “Okay, what’re you so excited about?”

“Just found out from Coach that we officially have a new guy to fill in Cruz’s spot,” Carson says. “They haven’t told us who he is yet, but supposedly he’s a real menace on the ice. He’ll be here in a month when practice starts.”

Jensen nods. “The suspense is killing us.”

I laugh.

“Oh, I heard about the transfer,” I assure the boys. “I’ll be doing his PT input paperwork and initial exam later.”

“You got any details you can tell us about him?” Jensen asks, nudging me with his elbow and giving me a teasing wink.

I roll my eyes with a grin. “You know I can’t give you any information I learn from medical records. Go get to the weight room, you dummies. I’ll see you later.”

Truth be told, I don’t know anything about the new guy either. I haven’t gotten his file yet.

They head toward the locker room, and I go into the therapy offices. Janet, the head PT, is already going over a few charts. She’s tall and thin, with long black hair she usually wears in a knot on the back of her head. Janet is an excellent mentor and we get along really well. Lately, she’s been hinting at the possibility of retirement, but she’s also been nudging me with the idea of staying on permanently and taking her place when my residency is up at the end of the year. I’m not going to lie, that would be pretty much a dream come true.

“Morning,” she says, handing me a small stack of player profiles the moment I walk through the door.

“Good morning,” I reply.

“We need to start making sure all the guys have their medical records in and up-to-date,” she tells me. “Go through the files, and if any are missing, let me know and I’ll get Coach on their asses, okay?”

I give her a firm nod. It feels good to know she’s confident in me.

As I sit behind my small wooden desk, I pause. There’s a satisfaction that settles over me, knowing I’m exactly where I worked so hard to be. It wasn’t easy getting here. I’m lucky that Millie is such an amazing kid and that I had Gram around to help take care of her whenever I needed to focus. Gram always told me there was no shame in getting help (even if my mom always thought otherwise) and that someday it’d all be worth it, and that Millie would see my hard work and determination and be inspired by me. She was right. I’m here, doing what I love. For her, my daughter, every lonely, sleepless night, every tear, every struggle…it was all worth it. It’s us against the world and I wouldn’t change a thing.

I grab my first file and get to work, prepared for whatever the day has in store.

Later that afternoon, just as I’m finishing checking the last of the medical files, the PT office door flies open and Millie comes barreling inside.

“Mommy!” she exclaims, rushing up to my desk. “Mommy! Guess what?”

Smiling, I reach down and wrap my arms around her in a tight hug.

“Just a second, baby,” I tell her before I look up at Lilah, who’s following closely behind Millie. Her pink hair is styled into a feathery mohawk and the sides of her head are shaved. Her make up is dark and heavy, especially around her eyes, and she’s got tattoos all over her arms and a nose ring. At first sight, Lilah is the last person a parent might trust with their kid, but she’s easily the best babysitter I’ve ever had…minus her occasional flightiness.

“Thanks for dropping her off,” I say.

“No problem,” Lilah replies. “Sorry again that I can’t watch her. I’ll be able to all next week, no problem.”

“Okay, that’ll be great,” I nod. Looking back down at Millie, I say, “Tell Lilah thank you for picking you up.”

“Thank you, Lilah!” Millie declares with a wide, toothy grin.

“I’ll see you later, kiddo,” Lilah grins before turning and strolling back out the door.

Once she’s gone, Millie turns back to me and asks, “Can I tell you what we did in school today now?”

“Yes, baby. Go ahead.” I sit back in my chair and make a show of giving her my full attention.

“Okay, so our teacher, Miss Sybil, wanted us all to get to know each other,” Millie begins. “So we had to go around and talk about ourselves and our families.”

“Oh, that sounds interesting.”

“Yeah! And when it was my turn, I talked about you and Gram, and everyone was really excited when I told them you work for the Night Hawks… but then they asked about my dad, and I didn’t know what to say. I told them I don’t have a dad, but all my classmates said I had to have one because you can’t be born without a dad. Is that true?”

My heart sinks as she gazes up at me in confusion. I should’ve seen something like this coming. Little kids have no filter, so of course her friends would ask questions about her dad.

“Sweetie, we’ve talked about this before,” I say, pulling her up onto my lap. “Of course you have a dad, but he’s not able to be with us. He lives far away, but that’s okay. Sometimes dads aren’t always around. Sometimes moms aren’t always around. You have me and Gram, and all your friends here with the Night Hawks. That’s pretty special, right?”

She purses her lips and appears thoughtful for a moment before she nods. “Yeah, that is special. It’d be nice to have a dad, but I like having you and Gram and everyone on the team, so that’s okay.”

She hops off my lap and hurries toward the door, her mind already somewhere else.

“Can I go skating now?” she asks, reaching for the door handle.

I have to swallow back the lump that rises up in my throat before I can reply. “Yeah, baby. Let me get your skates and we can go to the rink.”

Standing, I pull the tote bag I have her skates tucked away in from under my desk and follow her out the door. She skips down the corridor, chatting away about other aspects of her day, but I’m only half-listening. There’s a pang in my chest as I watch her, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have her father here with her. What if Owen had stuck around, or made any sort of effort to know her?

Not having her father around isn’t such a big deal to her now, but I know it’s going to become more important as she gets older, and I don’t know what I’ll tell her then. I can only hope that, when the real, hard hitting questions about her father are asked, that I have a better explanation than he abandoned us to go to Canada and never looked back.