Chapter 28

Foster

It’s almost three a.m. when I quietly enter the house from the garage. I put my gear bag on the counter, shed my jacket that has my tie already crumpled up in the pocket, and toss it over a chair back. Normally coming home from an away game where we fly back right after, I’d stumble my way to bed because I’d be so exhausted.

Not this morning though.

I am pissed and even though it’s been nearly twelve hours since Mazzy called me with the police at my house because Sandra attempted to take Bowie Jane, my blood pressure has not receded in the slightest.

I know Mazzy hated to make that call but she did the right thing. I was already at the Toronto arena with my team, doing some bike warm-ups when my cell phone rang. I knew right away something was wrong because Mazzy wouldn’t call while I was in game mode unless it was crucial. She might text a nonurgent question or send me a good-luck GIF, but a phone call meant she had to talk to me right then.

I was on a stationary bike and I hopped off to move away from Bain and Penn who were on the other two—all of us slowly warming up our legs. I was braced for bad news but I was not prepared for Mazzy’s incredulous story of Sandra showing up unannounced, packing a bag and attempting to leave with Bowie Jane.

“I’m so sorry I let her in the house, Foster,” Mazzy said, and I could hear the quaver in her voice. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Of course you should have,” I reassured her without a moment’s doubt. “Sandra is her mother. She made a trip to see her. The house should’ve been a safe place for her to visit. Are you okay?”

Mazzy glossed over the physical altercation, merely claiming she had to physically stop Sandra from going up the stairs.

“I’m fine,” she replied and her voice sounded stronger. “But I need to go to Bowie Jane and that’s why I called you. You need to talk to her about this. She needs your reassurance.”

Christ, I was so thankful for her forward thinking. She called me not to advise me what was going on but so I could be present to help settle Bowie Jane, who, thank fuck, had been sequestered away through the ugly stuff.

And so Mazzy switched me over to FaceTime and went up into Bowie Jane’s room. It was a brutal fucking call, one I had to navigate carefully with my daughter. I had to balance the fact that her mom did something very wrong (and could be in serious trouble) with a modicum of patience so I don’t poison Bowie Jane against her. Although, given how Sandra tried to forcefully remove her from the house, I was confident what little trust Bowie Jane had in her mother had been obliterated.

It was made more difficult by the fact that as I spoke to Bowie Jane, Sandra was outside my house talking to the police, and I absolutely fucking hated that I had to let my daughter know that it was necessary to call the cops on her mother.

It was Mazzy who actually downplayed it, adding, “Things just got a little heated and when people have arguments they can’t resolve, sometimes the police will help them work through it.”

I could see that resonated with Bowie Jane, her screwed-up face of anxiety relaxing somewhat. Mazzy left soon after that to give me private time to talk to Bowie Jane. I didn’t need it because there isn’t anything I would say that Mazzy couldn’t hear, but I let Bowie Jane ask all the questions she wanted.

Will Mom get in trouble?I don’t know.

Will I have to go to Singapore with Mom?No. I won’t let that happen.

Why is Mom doing this?I wish I knew, baby.

I think she was okay by the time we were done and I had to hang up to start dressing for the game. Of note, I played like shit because I could not fucking focus. Coach and my mates knew what was going on as I advised them and they even offered me the option of not dressing so I could catch a flight home.

But I declined because Mazzy knew all the right things to say and she would clearly defend my daughter, even if it meant putting herself in harm’s way.

After that call, Mazzy sent me updates via text. I know she intentionally kept them short with only the necessary information to ease my mind so I wouldn’t dwell.

By the time the game started, I knew that Sandra was gone from the property and advised not to return again unless she had my permission. Bowie Jane seemed settled and she and Mazzy went about their business as usual the rest of the evening, including homework, guitar practice, bath and reading.

That should’ve quelled my anger, at least a little, but I’m still so worked up by the audacity of Sandra—or maybe it’s insanity—that I can’t go to bed. I’m too wired, so I make coffee and sit in the living room in the dark, contemplating all the things I need to do today to further protect Bowie Jane, and Mazzy for that matter. It’s a long, brutal wait for the sun to come up, and I battle with the urge to go into Bowie Jane’s room to watch her sleep, to make sure she’s not having nightmares.

I also battle against the aching need to go into Mazzy’s room and kiss her, then make love to her, then hold her tight in gratitude.

But I wait for them to wake up at six thirty to start their day.

Mazzy is first down the stairs, shocked to see me in the kitchen where I’d moved to rinse out my coffee cup. In the predawn gloom as well as the under-cabinet lighting, I can see she looks rumpled and sleep-deprived but still beautiful. She clearly tossed and turned.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” she says as she moves my way. I don’t think it’s to me but rather the coffee pot.

It’s close enough though that I’m able to reach for her and pull her into a hard hug. Her arms go around my back and I whisper to her, “Thank you for everything you did.”

“It was nothing—”

I tighten my embrace, cutting off her words. “It was everything.”

I don’t want to relinquish my hold on her, knowing that Bowie Jane won’t come down until she’s dressed for school so I have a minute or so more.

Pulling back so I can really look her in the eyes to make sure she’s okay, my entire body tightens as I see a faint bruise on her cheek. I lift a hand but decide not to touch it, not wanting to cause her pain to satisfy my curiosity. “She’s going to pay for that,” I snarl.

Mazzy pushes my hand away. “It’s fine.”

“Did she hit you?” I ask incredulously, because she didn’t tell me the details.

She doesn’t reply, turning to the coffee pot. I reach for one of the light switches beside the stove and turn on the recessed lighting. Taking Mazzy by the shoulders, I turn her to me so I can let my eyes roam over her. I don’t see anything else but that doesn’t mean there’s not something under her clothes. “I want to know exactly what she did and don’t think to try to keep it from me or undersell it. I’ll go to the damn police officer and ask if I have to.”

With a heavy sigh, Mazzy says, “She started up the stairs for Bowie Jane. I grabbed her to stop her and she punched me. She then pushed me hard and I fell on my ass. That was it. I immediately told her I was calling the police and I did, and that stopped her from going up the stairs. It worked out fine and Bowie Jane didn’t see any of that, so you don’t have to worry—”

“I’m not worried about Bowie Jane at the moment,” I growl, dropping my hands from her shoulders to throw them out wide. “Did they arrest her? That’s assault.”

Guilt floods Mazzy’s eyes. “I told them I wouldn’t press charges, so no, they didn’t arrest her. They just made her leave.”

“Jesus Christ, Mazzy. She attacked you. She should have been arrested.”

“It was the heat of the moment—”

“Bullshit,” I hiss at her, not wanting to raise my voice for Bowie Jane to hear if she comes down the stairs. “She committed a crime, and she should face consequences. You can still press charges—”

“Absolutely not,” she snaps, eyes going hot with anger. “It’s my decision and it’s done. Now, whatever you decide to do with Sandra, that’s your business, but it’s mine what I do with her. I don’t want to make this any harder on Bowie Jane and her mom getting arrested would have been awful for her, no matter if she deserved it or not.”

That sort of shuts me up because those are noble reasons, but I don’t like that Mazzy has to bear the hurt while Sandra walks away without any repercussions.

Except… that’s hopefully not true because I’m going to use this incident to tighten up the custody reins. I’ve already left a message with my attorney and I plan to go see him this morning.

“Daddy,” I hear from the hall and then Bowie Jane runs like an Olympic sprinter toward me.

I move to the side of the island just as she reaches me and leaps into my arms. She clings like a koala bear as I hug her tightly. I’m afraid to let go because I don’t know what I’m going to see.

But I do have to let her down because she has to get to school and I need to make sure she’s okay to do so. I didn’t have a chance to talk to her again last night as she was already asleep by the time the game was over. I didn’t call Mazzy either as I had hoped she too would be sleeping.

I lean back slightly to look at my kid. “How’d you sleep last night?”

“Good,” she says and then looks over her shoulder at Mazzy. “Can I have some yogurt and fruit for breakfast?”

Mazzy smiles, pulling a cup of coffee for herself from the machine. “Sure, kiddo. Want anything, Foster?”

I’m still a little irritated that she didn’t have Sandra arrested but I have to respect her decision. I shake my head. “I’m good. I’ll take Bowie Jane to school.”

“Sounds good,” she says as she pours cream into her cup. “I’ll head up and shower.”

“But I’d like to talk after I get back,” I say, and she glances at me. Her expression is unreadable, but she nods.

She knows it just as well as I do.

We have a lot to talk about.