37. Jett

Chapter 37

I slept like shit. I tossed and turned all fucking night, and by seven I can't lay down for a second longer. With a kiss to Wyla's head and a quick peek in Stevie's room, I at least find a little solace in the fact that they are getting some sleep.

Poppy follows me out of Stevie's room so I let her out and sit on the swing on the front porch. You want to know what makes all of this suck even more? I'm supposed to get back on a plane tonight for another week's worth of games.

I know there are several players on our team with families and they make it work, but I'm not entirely sure I'm cut out for it. With everything that I've missed with Wyla and Stevie… I just don't think I can handle missing anymore .

With all my self-loathing going on and zero yelling from Wyla, I think the universe said, "Let's correct this shall we," and has sent Wyla's dad over bright and early at seven fucking thirty.

"You look like shit," he says, walking up with a cup carrier holding two coffees and a brown bag from Crossroads.

"I feel like shit."

He takes the seat next to me and hands me a cup of coffee. No way that was originally intended for me. "I'm not going to steal your coffee."

"It's for you, Jett. Take it."

Not entirely sure that's true but I'm so fucking exhausted. "Thanks. The girls are still asleep, but I imagine they'll be up soon."

"Probably so." He reaches in the bag. "Strawberry or that banana chocolate one?"

"What?"

He sighs. "What kind of muffin, strawberry or banana? I got a bag full of the girls' favorite muffins. I imagine they're not on a pro athlete's meal plan, but like I said, you look like shit. So, drink the coffee and eat something, for fuck's sake."

"Strawberry," I answer. Isn't this the man who refused to speak to me for the first week I was here?

He tosses one of the Saran wrapped muffins to me then leans back on the swing. "You know, as a cop, there were hundreds of things I missed with the girls. The chief before me didn't believe in work-life balance or the importance of making it to your daughter's ballerina recital."

"Wyla did ballet?" That thought brings a bit of a smile to my face. I bet she hated it.

"For one year, and man, did she hate it. But missing it didn't make me a bad dad, and yesterday doesn't make you one either."

"I fucking feel like one. And flying back out tonight definitely supports that theory."

He chuckles and pulls out his phone. "A bad dad and a bad partner wouldn't call their girlfriend's dad and leave this voicemail."

He turns his phone on speaker. "Hi Mr. Bennett, it's Jett. I just dropped the girls off at the airport and there's something you should know. I've asked Wyla to move here with me to Seattle. I know I'm not your favorite person and I'm probably shooting myself in the foot on that chance you're giving me, but I love your daughter. Of course I love Stevie too, but I fell in love with Wyla first. Being with her is all I've thought about for the past five years. This would all sound a hell of a lot better in person, or not to your voicemail, but I want you to know I'm going to take care of them."

He clicks it off and slides his phone back in his pocket. "That guy, he's not a bad dad and he's definitely good enough for my daughter. You might miss some stuff with your career, but where you make up for it is being present with your family when you're not doing your job."

"I've just missed so much already. I don't think I can handle missing anymore. Good or bad, I want to be there. I thought them moving to Seattle was the answer but it would have made this situation a million times worse."

"Well, that's your call, Jett. But despite how it all started, you're family now. So, if you need any help, just holler."

"Thank you." I shake his hand as the front door opens.

"Jett?" Wyla steps out onto the porch. "Oh. Hey, Dad, what are you doing here?"

A second later, Stevie jumps out the door in front of Wyla then screams, "Papaw!"

Mr. Bennett scoops her up. "Hey there, Stevie. I thought you guys could use some breakfast." He sets her back down and hands her the bag. "Here you go, Stevie, why don't you take those inside."

Stevie squeals, delighted and races back inside.

Wyla shakes her head. "Thank you. What flavors did you get? "

Without hesitation, he says, "Peach."

I nearly spit my coffee out. Wyla is not amused in the slightest. "Dad, that's not funny."

He pulls her in a hug. "Wyla, your sister wouldn't let a peach enter her store even if a customer brought it in. I got your favorites."

A small crash comes from inside. "Mommy! I made a mess."

I chuckle, and stand to go help but Wyla pulls back from her dad. "It's okay, Stevie. Papaw's coming to clean it up."

He laughs and points at her. "There's my girl."

She rolls her eyes to me as her dad makes his way inside to Stevie. "What were you doing up so early? I thought I was the pro at sneaking out of rooms."

"I didn't realize this was a family that makes trauma jokes."

For the first time since everything happened, Wyla smiles. Her nose scrunches slightly, her dimples show, and every question I've had about what to do next is completely answered.