Page 38

THIRTY-SEVEN

JACK

DECEMBER

I heard Jace’s signature wail when I got out of the car in our garage. I braced, expecting to hear the accompanying frantic “it’s okay!” from Sydney, but it wasn’t there.

Instead, I heard Mara’s calm voice—and Jace actually listening to her.

“It can feel scary or embarrassing when we have accidents, can’t it?”

I froze, listening for Jace’s response. “I don’t like it,” he sniffled.

“I know, buddy. Accidents happen. It’s no big deal. Next time we’ll listen when our tummy starts talking, and we’ll make it to the potty on time. Let’s go get you cleaned up, and then do you want to practice letters with Asp and Harp?”

“Okay,” came his mumble.

I opened the door to find a peaceful scene despite Jace’s apparent accident, which I could still smell. Poor guy.

Aspen and Harper sat at their little table, drawing. Hazel ran at me as fast as her little toddler legs could carry her, wearing her bright smile.

“Hi, Hazey Mazey,” I said, picking her up and kissing her cheek. Her arms clung to me, her sweet little hug. “Hey, you two over there! Whatcha drawin’?”

I leaned to hug Aspen and Harper, then patted Hazel’s butt to find a soggy diaper. “Looks like somebody else needs a change too. Let’s go find your mama, eh?”

“Eh,” Hazel echoed, something she’d started doing. It made me realize just how often I sounded Canadian because anytime I said “eh,” a little red-headed parrot repeated me.

I got to the upstairs hallway just as Jace popped out of his room in what I assumed was a fresh outfit. “Hey, buddy. Lookin’ sharp!” I said, trying to keep him calm after his accident.

Mara’s face popped around the corner and she gave an overly bright, “Welcome home! Oh, shoot, does she need a change?”

“I got it,” I said. “You take care of you.”

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a plastic bag full of Jace’s soiled clothes and shaking it. “Going to go manage these.”

“Sorry,” I mouthed.

“It’s all good,” she said, walking past me. I caught her by the waist and pulled her close.

“Hi,” I cooed, looking down into her eyes.

“Hey,” she said, tipping her chin up. I gave her the requested kiss, then felt two wet lips on the side of my face. Mara turned to Hazel and gave her a kiss too. “Everybody gets a kiss. Dinner’s almost ready. Can you pack the hockey bags?”

“You got it,” I said, kissing her one more time before patting her butt to send her down the hall.

Mara took the steps slowly, and I couldn’t quite tell if it was from pain or just the pace she was choosing. I didn’t want her to strain herself, but she seemed to be handling the changes with surprising ease. While I changed Hazel’s diaper, I thought of how despite there being double the number of us I was used to, things were going pretty smoothly. Maybe it was just a honeymoon period, but I was kind of liking having the three of them with us under one roof.

Was this what normalcy felt like?

But then, there was the sex. And we were not being very normal about that. Because of my schedule, I was gone about half the time since we got married. Mara was wiped out at the end of each day, especially if I’d been gone. But unless I got home in the middle of the night, we ended our days with some kind of quiet sex. It usually started as touching under the covers and escalated. We weren’t constantly talking like our first time. We were just feeling each other and kissing, and occasionally I was begging her to let me come.

We never talked about it by the light of day. I didn’t know what that meant. Secretly, I wanted more. I wanted Mara calling me a good boy. I wanted her telling me what to do, using me for her pleasure.

When I first hinted that I liked Mara dominating me, she acted like it was no big deal. Did she not really want to do it? Had I read everything wrong? Was that just a short-term game, an experiment? Did I not behave well enough, and she decided not to do that with me?

I was in my head about it. I knew we had more in us, and it was kind of baffling why we weren’t getting as rowdy as we had before.

Right before sat down for dinner, Mara’s phone buzzed. She read the screen and her face fell before she put it face down on the counter.

“What was on your phone?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Mara said.

“Mar—”

“God, you’re demanding,” she said with a glare. “It was just a reminder to send Christmas cards. But I haven’t taken any pictures, and Bryce took my good camera when he left, and some people on the Christmas card list probably don’t even know about Bryce, and now it’s the three of us?—”

“The six of us,” I said firmly. “We’re a family now.”

“Right, well, is it an elopement announcement? Surprise, we added three more?”

“What’s e-lope-ment?” Aspen sounded out.

My jaw clenched. “I’m not ashamed of this family, or our decision, Mara.”

Mara rubbed her forehead. “I’m not, either. But it does look pretty strange from the outside.”

“So, just don’t send cards.” I shrugged and sank my fork into another piece of salmon. Really good salmon, actually. Mara was a hell of a cook.

And the hell of a cook burst into tears at the other end of the table.

I fucked up. “What did I do?”

Mara rolled her eyes and wiped under them. “You’re just not sentimental. I like to watch how the kids grow from year to year. I like to show people we don’t see often how we’re doing, to reflect on our year. It’s not just about the picture. It’s reflecting on life.”

“Okay. So, it’s important to you?”

“Just because you don’t think it’s important doesn’t make it stupid,” Mara snapped, her cheeks going red. She looked scary. I wondered if maybe I’d get punished later.

Do I want to get punished?

My head flopped back on my shoulders. “That’s not what I’m saying. If it’s important to you, which it sounds like it is, we’ll make it happen. Alright?”

Mara sulked. The kids looked worried.

“Are you guys fighting?” Harper asked.

I got why my kids especially were worried. Something like this would have escalated into Sydney screaming her head off, and probably me yelling back. There was damage to undo.

I sighed and reached out to rub her shoulder. “No. Just trying to understand each other. When you care about somebody, you try to understand the way they think.”

Mara’s gaze was tear-filled and with some effort, she stood and walked over to my chair. “Hug please?”

“Of course.” I stood and wrapped my arms around Mara. “What kind of camera was it?”

“It was an old Canon. I had a bunch of lenses too.”

I nodded. “One of those fancy ones?”

“Yes,” she said. “Thanks for trying to understand me.”

I kissed the top of her head. “Doing my best.”

“Corner, Harper!” I shouted, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. “When are they going to fucking get it?”

“Probably when they’re not five,” Sorrento chimed in. “Way to go, Alice!”

I stood with Sorrento and Romelski as we watched our kids scrimmage.

“Alice should have shot that fucking softball a few minutes ag—there you go, Aspen!” I clapped so hard my hands hurt, pride swelling as I’d watched him progress over the past few months.

My stepson.

I’m always proud of Harper, but there was something so special about seeing Aspen thrive when I knew he’d had a rough year. Kid deserved everything.

I held my breath, biting my knuckle as he got the puck again and had an open crack at the net. With a seamless wrister, he sank it at the back of the net.

I jumped and slammed the glass, losing my fucking mind for this child. “That’s my boy!” I shouted. Sorrento and Romelski celebrated with me, but what stopped me in my tracks was a man’s voice behind me.

“Go Aspen!”

I whipped around. Who the fuck would have known Aspen’s name? A man sat alone at the top of the seats with a baseball cap pulled low. He looked underdressed for the occasion, wearing a t-shirt and some sweatpants.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” I barked at Rome and Sorrento. “You ever see him before?”

“Stop staring at him, bro,” Rome said.

“How does he know my stepson’s name?” I said, my voice getting louder.

“Easy, Leroy,” Sorrento said. “Be cool.”

“Why, you fucking know him?”

“Well, no,” Sorrento tried.

“Then who. The fuck. Is he? Some child molester?”

The realization dawned on me as I watched the rink’s door swing shut. I took off running. He caught sight of me through the viewing windows and ran. That’s when I got a good look at his face to confirm my suspicions.

Bryce.

“Hey!” I yelled after him. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you!”

By the time I got to the hallway between the rink and the locker rooms, he was almost to the exit. He was stalled at the automatic doors, where they really needed to fix the one that dragged open.

“The fuck you think you’re doing here? This sure doesn’t look like fucking Nepal!”

He squeezed through the gap the second he could fit and ran into the parking lot. I was hot on his heels, but not fast enough. He was already unlocking a rental car, flinging open the driver’s door and jumping in.

“Were you actually going to speak to your son, or were you going to keep hiding like a chickenshit?”

I couldn’t even see straight, a blur of red and black. I ran at his car as he backed out and jumped on his bumper.

“I’m not done with you, you sick fuck!” I shouted, clinging onto the trunk and slamming the back window. “Have some fucking respect for your fucking family, and get back in there and talk to your son!”

His eyes hit the rearview just before he pounded the gas, sending me flying off the back. I landed on my hands and knees, and yeah, it fuckin’ hurt. I was going to have to cover it up at work the next day.

Rome and Sorrento appeared on either side of me. “I got his plate number,” Rome said, holding up his phone.

“Good. Because I think that was Aspen’s dad.”

I was shaken up after their practice. Not only was I having to pull my sleeves over my scraped-up hands, but I couldn’t decide what I should do.

That had to be Bryce. Why else would the guy have run?

What did he know? Did he know Mara and I got married? That I was acting as Aspen’s parent at that practice? Had he tried to go to their old house?

But none of it made sense. He called once a month, so he had Mara’s number.

Other things made me more pissed off. He could afford to rent a car, but he couldn’t afford to pay Mara’s child support? Money didn’t matter for her now, but it was the principle of it.

And the thing that made me the sickest was, what was I going to tell Mara? Could I tell her anything? Would it just upset her?

We said honesty. We said no secrets.

The protective asshole in me wanted to take care of it, and bring it to her as a solved problem. That was how I made myself useful. That was how I avoided being a fuck-up. I was used to relying on myself and nobody else and the urge to just manage it was strong.

It was late when we left practice, and I had another problem to solve: Mara’s upset with the Christmas card stuff.

“Are you guys falling asleep?” I looked in the rearview mirror to try to see the whites of the kids’ eyes in the dark.

“No,” came their unison chime.

“Can we make a little pit stop on the way home then?”

I couldn’t see the whites of Harper’s eyes, but I saw the gleam of her teeth. “For a Frosty.”

I nodded. “We can do Frosties. But you’ve gotta be cool when we stop. Deal?”

“Deal!”