Page 69

LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT

Tyler

“A dog walk?” I ask my mother on the phone when she calls after morning skate on Saturday.

“Yes, that thing where you put leashes on pooches and they bark at every other dog that dares to pass by.”

I heave a sigh as I trudge down the corridor toward the players’ lot, a few paces behind my brother. “I know what a dog walk is.”

“Are you sure? You seemed confused.”

“Because you don’t usually call me to join you on a dog walk.”

“Do you have something against dogs?”

“Mom. No. Obviously,” I say, exasperated, even though it’s only been a short call.

“And you’re free today since Elle has the kids,” she adds.

My mother knows everything. Is she a superhero? Well, probably. “She has them all weekend,” I admit.

“Perfect. Then your brother knows where to meet me. ”

“Miles knows?”

As if on cue, Miles spins around and flashes me a smile and a thumbs-up.

I groan as I near the door. “Why do I have the feeling I’m walking into an ambush?”

My mother laughs. “Sweetheart, you’re the one who reached out to us on Saturday.”

“And we never met for lunch,” I point out with a grumble, because I’m feeling grumbly.

“Because you cancelled,” she says, matter-of-factly.

Right. Because what was the point? I’d originally planned to meet with them to talk about next steps with Sabrina, and, well, those became clear as day. “So you changed it to a dog walk?”

I’m pushing back because I know my mom. The woman is always ten steps ahead of me.

“Yes. Charlie has to work, but like I said, your brother knows where to meet me. Bye!”

She hangs up right as Miles reaches the door, swinging it open. “Good thing I drove us today.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You trapped me, dude.”

“Did I?” he asks with a smirk.

“You fucking did.”

He claps my shoulder as we stride across the lot to his car. “Maybe you need to be trapped.”

The long-haired Boppity leads the pack of Chihuahua rescue mutts.

She’s tiny—maybe seven pounds, but she’s the biggest dog in the world in her mind, so she barks her presence to any mammal that enters her fifty-foot pack radius.

My mom holds her leash and Boo’s as well.

I’ve got Cindy while Miles has Bippity as we walk the fearsome foursome along Marina Green, the Golden Gate Bridge rising majestically in a clear blue January sky.

“So, why did you cancel with us the other day? Does it have something to do with the…” Mom pauses, adjusting her sunglasses so she can look at me over the tops of the big cheetah shades, “breakup?”

This superpower of hers is hard to keep up with. “How did you find out about that?” I shoot my gaze toward Miles. He must have told her.

My brother holds up his hands in surrender. “Not me.”

“Had to have been you,” I say.

My mom cackles. “I figured it out. You’ve been a grumpy turd, and when I picked the kids up from school yesterday they said you and Sabrina were acting, and I quote, weird . Then they told me about a certain presentation last weekend,” she says. “And I put it all together.”

There you go. Secrets and my family don’t co-exist. “Okay, and?”

“And, young man, why are you being so surly with your mother?”

“And your brother?” Miles pipes in.

“Are you here to echo her?” I snap to Miles.

He slows his pace and stares straight at me. “And are you going to be a big dick?”

Ouch. “I’m not being a dick.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been a surly, sullen bastard since Sunday night. You were like an ogre on our Los Angeles trip,” he says, mentioning our quick midweek road trip down the state.

“It’s my old hometown,” I say, like that justifies my mood.

“Boys!” My mother cuts in with a sharp and clear order. She doesn’t yell, since she doesn’t have to. But we all stop. Including the four dogs. They turn their snouts to Mom, waiting for an order from on high. Miles and I look at her, chastened .

Well, I do. I’m mostly the chastened one, because I’m the asshole.

“Stop this snipping. Now, let’s talk,” Mom says, with authority and love. “I understand you prefer to grunt like a caveman. But I’m not going to let you swing your arms and scratch your chest. Why did you break up with a woman you clearly care so deeply about?”

I consider the question for about two seconds, then jump in with the cold, unvarnished truth.

“The kids asked us to get married. Married! She practically choked when they said that. Her eyes popped and she bolted from the room. So yeah, I did the right thing. Because she doesn’t need more stress in her life.

She doesn’t need a guy with two kids. She doesn’t need a boss who’s also a boyfriend.

She doesn’t need to have her job in question.

Don’t you two get it?” I ask, exasperated all over again.

Miles nods, nice and long, then strokes his chin. “So you assumed you knew what was best for her. How’d that go for you?”

My chest tightens, like someone’s tied a belt around it. “She shut down. She didn’t even fight me on it. Hell, she was probably glad.”

My mother stares at me, like she can’t believe I’m selling this line. Boppity does the same. She’s so over me. “Tyler, do you really believe that?” my mom asks. “That she was probably glad ?”

“Yes!” I shout, doubling down.

“Why?” she asks. Boppity barks. Cindy barks louder.

“Because of how she was acting,” I say, annoyed I have to rehash this hurt all over again, but rehash it I do, letting them know what went down the night my heart splintered into pieces.

When I finish with how Sabrina was just petting the kitten at the end, Miles stares at me with ferocity in his expression.

“Did it ever occur to you, even once, even at all, that maybe she wasn’t shutting you out because she didn’t care?

Maybe she shut down because she was already dealing with enough from her father? ”

Mom gives me a sympathetic look. “Sweetheart, that has to be so hard for her,” she says, and her words are a jolt.

They’re jumper cables restarting my engine. “Wait,” I sputter. “You’re saying she just went along with it?”

Boppity lifts her chin and barks again at me. It sounds like you idiot in canine.

“Listen to your fur sister,” Mom says.

Miles chuckles under his breath, then mutters, “Yeah, Little Falcon.”

“Tyler, her father showed up that morning,” my mom says. “Do you think maybe that threw her off? Maybe it sent her spinning? Maybe it made her feel like her world had tipped upside down. From what you’ve said, he’s never supported her.”

“It’s so much worse than that,” I hiss out, the venom back in my voice. “He puts her down. He blames her. He twists everything. He accused her of having an affair with me before she almost married that tool.”

“That’s my point, sweetheart,” Mom says, reaching up to ruffle my hair. “She must have been hurting so much.”

Miles clears his throat. “And then, let me see if I’ve got this straight. Right after she has a run-in with the man who makes her feel worthless, she pulls back from you just a little. Maybe out of self-protection. And you assume that means she doesn’t want you,” Miles adds, pulling no punches.

How did I miss it? “Shit,” I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot.

She was robotic, yes. But she was also overperforming.

She was making a million dishes at dinner.

She was telling me every little thing she did for the kids.

She was—a stark realization slams into me—making a spoken list for me of every damn thing she’d done.

Like she used to do to track her skating performance.

And she was in full skater mode Sunday night.

I didn’t connect the dots. She was protecting herself because of him. She was trying to be perfect for me because he’d been horrible to her. And then I proceeded to presume it was all about me—but it was all about her and him.

My heart aches horribly with all the hurt she must carry over that man.

And I didn’t even connect the dots. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot,” I mutter.

Miles holds his arms out wide. “At last, he learns!” Cindy twirls around Miles in a little doggie victory dance.

“Seriously. I am,” I add as my stomach drops and I replay how quiet she was when she told me about his visit. Like she could only get out a few words, here and there. She wasn’t holding back from me. She was holding in a dam of hurt, while clutching a kitten like a shield.

I should have been her shield. Not a little baby cat.

“What do I do now?” I ask, feeling utterly helpless, like I did when Parker was sick and I was hundreds of miles away.

My mother comes closer, squeezes my arm. “If you want to be a good dad, teach your kids what it means to stay. Don’t show them how to run.”

With that final blow, I’m knocked dead.

But it’s time to pick myself up from the ground and start over. I check my watch. It’s noon. It’s a game day. And a VIP night. We have warmups, and also a couple quick photo opps as some VIPs tour the arena before the game against the Vegas Sabers.

The game where Sabrina’s performing tonight. She’ll arrive early, knowing her. Probably five-ish, to be safe. To stretch. Get in her costume. Take some pics.

I need to talk to her before she heads to the arena. I grab my phone like I’m an Old West gunslinger. Call her right away. But it goes to voicemail.

She’s probably practicing her routine a few more times before tonight. She’d want to be one hundred ten percent ready.

I make a promise to myself to find her as soon as I can. And somehow I’ll need to prove to her I can be the man she deserves. A man she can depend on, no matter what.

An idea lands in my head. “I need to talk to Leighton,” I say to Miles.

But that’s just the start of my busy afternoon. Especially since it ends with another idea, bright and shiny, shortly before I head into work.