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Chapter Fifteen

Adeline

The Sunny Side Up Diner was a Riverbrook stalwart, and where our dad used to take us as kids every Sunday for brunch.

(They’d named an omelet after him that was still on the menu, so he considered it his duty to give them his custom forever.) It had feta in it, which made me think of Greece, so I avoided that and went for French toast, which made me think of Paris in the spring and eating banana and Nutella crepes with Rosie while strolling the streets of Montmartre.

Perfect. Hatch ordered a Theo, Belgian waffles, and a double stack of blueberry pancakes.

“So how are things? Settling in with your new team?”

“I feel like I know them already because of Dad. So that’s made the transition smooth.”

“Cool, cool.”

He eyed me over his coffee cup. “What?”

“You tell me. You’ve been a touch moody of late. You should be on top of the world, but maybe you’re feeling some pressure being on the same team as the Theo Kershaw.”

“It’s a lot to live up to.” For a brief moment, I saw the strain in his expression. “But we don’t play the same position, so there aren’t the same comparisons. I can handle the old man. The press and fans are a different story, and they’re going gaga with this Nyquist baby story.”

His gaze sharpened, and for a moment I thought he’d heard about my crush on Lars and was worried it had the potential to make waves during this important year. But no. Looking up, I saw Dash and Summer taking seats at the counter. Summer spotted us and bounced over.

“Everyone’s got brunch on their mind, I guess!” She leaned over to kiss my cheek, then nodded at Hatch. “Hey, Dino Boy.”

My usually good-natured brother scowled at her. “No one calls me that.”

Dash had come up behind Summer and circled her waist. “Dude, everyone calls you that now that O’Malley has filled us in.”

Summer slipped his grip and hunkered down to rub Mabel’s tummy. “Aw, aren’t you adorable?”

Her fiancé rolled his eyes. “What did I say? Not even hitched yet and she’s got baby fever.”

Hatch hadn’t let up on the glower, only now it was directed at Dash.

“How’s the wedding planning coming along?” I asked to break the tension.

Summer’s smile was tentative. “I actually wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Me?”

“She’s down a bridesmaid.” Dash rolled his eyes like this was a ridiculous “bride” problem. “You’re next on deck.”

Summer nudged him in the ribs. “Dash! I’d like to have set the scene first.”

“Uh, everyone wants to be in our wedding party, babe. Nuptials of the century, or so my mom says.”

A visibly miffed Summer turned to me, mouthing an apology. “Could I call you later?”

“Of course!”

They took their leave back to the counter.

“I can’t quite put my finger on those two.” I shook my head. “Dash is kind of?—”

“A jerk?” my brother offered without hesitation.

“I was going to say condescending. I wonder what Summer sees in him.”

“His ginormous salary and even bigger trust fund.”

Kind of harsh and not my impression of Summer at all. Dash was heir to a huge hotel fortune, though. We were talking billions. “You know this how?”

“He treats her like shit, and she puts up with it. Why else would she do that if she wasn’t holding out for the payday?”

“Maybe she thinks she can change him.” Though they’d been together for close to five years, and her sunny influence had yet to produce observable results. “Or maybe we don’t know what happens behind closed doors. He could be a total sweetheart to her in private.”

“You’re not going to be her bridesmaid, are you?”

“If she asks, sure. Rosie’s already in.”

Hatch blew out an annoyed breath. “Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. But never mind that. How about you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Just watching this little one.” I checked in on Mabel who was happily munching on a strawberry-apple-spinach rice wafer. “And thinking about next steps.”

“More college?”

“God, no. I liked the business classes but I’m not sure how to apply it.”

“You were a big help to Mom when Tilly was born. Is that something you’d be interested in as a career?”

“I don’t think so. I’m just helping until Lars finds a nanny he clicks with.”

“So Nyquist is being respectful, right?”

Sure. Says my name when he comes. Real respectful.

“Do you think Mom and Dad would be okay with me there if they didn’t trust him?”

“Right, but …” He tapped the table with his index finger. Waited. Squinted.

Awareness dawned. “Rosie said something!”

“She might have mentioned a certain crush. This information had to be shared, Addy!”

I covered my heating cheeks with my hands. “It was harmless and is now ancient history. Absolutely forgotten. We talked it out and we’re fine.”

Hatch looked skeptical. “You discussed this crush with your crush and he’s fine with it?”

“There are more important things than ridiculous crushes, H. The man’s world has just blown up with a baby, not that long after the father with whom he had a notoriously strained relationship passed away in painful circumstances.

Believe me, he’s not thinking about how I liked him once in the distant past.”

“Good. ’Cause his life is a mess. He’s probably feeling vulnerable right now.”

And I wasn’t? Still, I preferred Hatch’s take on it, that poor Lars needed protection from my wiles.

“Plus, look at how it all came about. Banging a married chick in a bathroom, a one-night stand. Not so different from his dad.”

“Since when are you so judgmental? Have you forgotten that you were the result of a one-night stand?”

“But Mom and Pop got together soon after because they were fated. The Great Love Story, Trademark. I’m the reason you’re even here!” This argument was as old as the hills. “Besides, you shouldn’t be dating any hockey players. They’re all assholes.”

“Don’t I know it,” I said with feeling.

Satisfied he’d done his big brother duty, he stood. “I’m heading to the john. Don’t eat my bacon.”

“Yes, sir.” I helped myself to a strip right under his nose, then texted Rosie.

Can’t believe you blabbed about L to my brother!

Rosie

Sorry!!! We were bonding and I felt the need to keep the good times rolling with hot goss. Is he being a jerk?

Me

Actually, he seems to think Lars needs protection from my claws at this difficult time.

Rosie

LOL. Finally, you’re a maneater!

Another text came in from an unknown number.

It was nice to meet you today.

This is Rowan, btw.

Hmm.

How did you get this number?

Unknown

I have my ways. So, would you like to hang sometime?

Straight to it. I wasn’t sure I liked that. I wasn’t sure I was even attracted to Rowan. My experience was that people were usually interested in me because I was a Kershaw first, a woman a distant second.

Hatch had told me to stay away from hockey player assholes. Even Rosie thought the idea of me being a maneater was hilarious. No one gave me much credit, that was for sure. But neither did I like the idea of dating someone to prove something.

Me

I’m pretty swamped these days.

Unknown

I hear you. Let me know if your schedule opens up.

Lars

For consistency’s sake, we had reworked the schedule so Adeline stayed over even on my nights off. I needed sleep and I couldn’t get much if I had to attend to Mabel’s every whim. And yeah, I knew she was a baby and that whims were her brand.

Only sleep was near to impossible because this woman was in the next room with my daughter.

I turned over, noting the time on my phone: 2:06 a.m. Punched the pillow.

Considered a silent jerk-off, which usually did wonders to send me asleep.

But now I couldn’t because the woman I dreamed of was next door and I’d promised her—and myself—that I was drawing a line under it.

I stared up at the ceiling, making out shapes, turning them into plays on the ice.

Defensemen didn’t usually think too hard about plays, but sometimes I liked running the lines in my head, like counting sheep.

It usually helped keep thoughts of Sven at bay, yet my surprise fatherhood meant he was on my mind of late.

I was trying to remember good things, but I could only focus on the negative.

My father once gave a TV interview about five years after he’d been banned from the league, so a good ten years ago.

His trophies filled the background, his softening body filled a leather chair.

He’d aged twenty years in five and was still as bitter as the day he was kicked out of professional hockey.

“Do you regret your decision to gamble away your career?” the interviewer had asked.

“What’s the point in regrets?” he’d said, his thick Finnish accent making him sound like a Bond villain. “It happened. I cannot turn back time.”

“And what about your son Lars? How’s your relationship with him?”

Sven’s palpable disgust leeched through the screen. “Nolla.”

Null. Zero. Nothing.

I couldn’t forgive him. He saw nothing worth forgiving. Nolla was right.

My eyes fluttered closed as sleep got the better of me. But then they snapped wide open. I’d heard a noise.

Downstairs? No. Closer. I sat up, quieting my heartbeat, straining to listen.

There it was again. A whimper. Perhaps Mabel was awake.

I padded toward the door and into the corridor. The sound came again, louder, more distressed. The guest room door was ajar. I pushed it a few inches wider and poked my head in. The room wasn’t completely dark. Moonlight filtered through the blinds, illuminating a sleeping Mabel in stripes.

Movement in the bed caught my eye. Adeline shifted, turned, and cried out. Mabel stirred but didn’t wake.

Adeline was having a nightmare. I recalled that first night I came home early, how she’d reacted as if I was an intruder. I didn’t want to scare her again, but if I let this go on, she might wake Mabel.

Cautiously, I stepped forward just as Adeline thrashed again. That decided it. I sat on the bed, figuring that would be less intimidating than being caught looming over her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, I gently shook.

“Adeline.”