Chapter 16

I step into the furniture store, scanning the displays with a sense of mission: find the perfect additions for my soon-to-be new room at Ty's place.

As I wander the aisles, a twinge of doubt creeps in. Am I investing too much time and emotion into this? Lyric insisted last night that it's logical, since I'll be spending lots of time there until we find a nanny—she's skeptical that will even happen before the season ends. Jude desperately hopes I'll stay at least until June, when he's convinced the Sasquatches will win the Cup.

My poor brother thinks that they can go all the way. This has been his dream since he started playing hockey—maybe not exactly the way he originally envisioned. Since he can't play anymore, he wants to do it through his players. If living vicariously through his players keeps Jude's own dashed hopes from poisoning the next generation, I guess that's the lesser of two evils.

Keith suggested I look into an au pair agency. He dated one when he lived in New York. He can't remember where she was from—but she had a sexy accent. My cousin can only think about two things: music and the people he finds attractive enough to fuck.

The point he tried to make last night was that most au pairs live-in with the host family. I didn't really understand the arrangements well, but I made a note to research more later. Ty only wants the nanny to stay overnight when he's not home. I'm not sure if he'd be comfortable having someone live permanently in his house . . . and if we hired her, would she stay long-term?

I brush the thought aside for now, and research that early next week. I also have to check in with Ty but only if I feel it'll be good for Myra. Her earlier words about wanting a family are back on my mind. I still wonder about Ty's mom. If any of us needed someone to look after our children, Mom would drop everything to be with them. She even does it for our cousins.

As I wander through the aisles looking at the furniture and thinking about the Brynes and their family dynamic, my phone buzzes. I wonder if it's Teddy texting me her discount code or . . . I check and it's actually Ty.

Ty: I received an email from Teddy with the list of activities we could do this weekend. Myra wants to go on a ferry ride. Would you want to go to Luna Harbor with us?

I should tell him that Silverthorne is more fun today and we could stay the night at the Luna Harbor Inn. And though the idea is great, I use it to get rid of my brunch invite for tomorrow.

Indie: I wish I could, but I'm swamped today. I can help you by giving you not only suggestions but an itinerary. Let me gather some links.

Ty: I thought you were going to buy furniture. We can wait until you're done.

Indie: I'm at the furniture store already, but there are a lot more things I have to do in order to be free next week for Myra. I'll take a seat on this plush sage green sofa and prepare this for you.

Ty: Why are you looking at a sofa? I have a perfectly good one here, no need to replace it.

Indie: I can still look at things even when I don't buy them. This one is soft and plushy and . . . it invites you to sit in with a good book and a blanket.

Ty: Would you like me to leave you alone with the couch, seems like you two are having a . . . moment.

Indie: Ha, you're not funny. Okay, I just sent you the links and what I think you should do there.

Ty: You want me to stay overnight in Luna Harbor?

Indie: That's better than coming back to Seattle and then having to drive there.

Ty: What happened to brunch?

Indie: We can move it to whenever you have a free weekend. I'm saving you a four-hour drive—think about Monday's game.

Ty: True, I'll deal with Myra.

Indie: Tell her about the lavender farm—she can harvest her own lavender or prepare soap or . . . It'll be so much fun.

Ty: Is it safe?

Indie: Of course it is. Do you think they'd let children participate in something unsafe?

Ty: I trust you.

Indie: Perfect. If you can bring me some lemon-lavender tea, I'll appreciate it.

Ty: You got it. So Silverthorne first, then Luna Harbor. Got it.

Indie: Have fun.

Ty: You too, just make sure not to add unnecessary things to the room, please. It's just temporary and I won't be having guests after you.

Indie: Where did the nanny stay when she was working for you?

Ty: Gemma and Myra came to every away game with me—unless Myra was sick or there was an issue. If she had to stay at my place, she would use the sofa bed I have in the living room. And we planned to continue doing exactly the same.

Indie: Why not a bedroom?

Ty: When we were in Florida, I lived in a two-bedroom townhome. I'm used to that.

Indie: But you live in Seattle and have plenty of rooms.

Ty: I didn't think about it. We had a routine. I honestly didn't see the point in buying a bed. I don't like to spend money on frivolous objects.

Somehow, the idea of making him spend money on furnishing and decorating the room now feels wrong. What if I'm imposing? I would hate to be that person.

Indie: If you need me to sleep on that couch, I can try.

Ty: No, I want you to get the room set up and make it comfortable for you. Maybe that's something I should've done before we moved in. All my life I've lived on a tight budget—spending money unnecessarily makes me anxious. What if tomorrow I lose my ability to skate or play hockey? I need to know I'll have enough put away to support Myra no matter what happens. But that doesn't mean basic things like furnishing a room and providing a decent place for you to sleep is going to bankrupt me. It's just . . . I don't know, it makes me extremely anxious to think that I'll lose everything I've built. I'm not sure if there's a word for what I feel, but it's sometimes hard to handle.

Indie: Trauma. It's called trauma. You should try a therapist. I'm not saying that your spending should change, but having anxiety for it is not good for your physical or emotional health.

Ty: Sorry, I didn't mean to dump all that on you. Please make sure you set up the space the way you feel is best. We're going to get ready to leave. Can you send a list of what Myra should wear and what she should pack, please?

Indie: Why?

Ty: Because you're from here, and you know better than either one of us.

Indie: So, you don't want to fight with her and it's best if you blame me when she tells you the sparkly sandals are perfect for today?

Ty: Exactly.

Indie: She needs waterproof boots. I'll send you the address of a store in Silverthorne where you can get them. They have sparkly ones—that will be a great substitute for those fabulous sandals.

Ty: Did I make a mistake by moving here?

Indie: Why would you ask that?

Ty: Myra keeps wanting to move back to Florida. She doesn't seem very happy here.

Indie: Adjusting will take time—for both of you. I suggest you just show her that she has her dad who adores her and show her how amazing it is to live here. I'm thinking that today's trip will help you both.

Ty: I hope you're right.

Indie: I think I am and . . . I'll make sure to schedule a playdate with my niece Cora. She's around Myra's age.

Ty: Thank you.

Indie: No worries. Now, I'm going to send a picture of this couch to Teddy. Maybe we can make it fit in my room.

Ty: :rolling-eyes: emoji

After reading Ty's last message, I snap a picture of the couch, sending it to Teddy with a quick, "What do you think? Would it fit?"

Her reply is almost instantaneous.

Indie: Love it. :smiling cat face with heart-eyes: emoji Do they have a smaller size, like a lounge chair or a love seat? What about a bookcase? I ordered the bed. It'll arrive tomorrow at Ty's house.

I send the pictures of the bookcases I saw earlier. I get another enthusiastic approval from Teddy. She sends me to another store to check out the light fixtures. My cousin wasn't kidding when she said she'd have me going around to several stores before we had the perfect room.

But does it need to be perfect?

I'm not sure, but this isn't a room just for me, but maybe for the next person who'll be staying with Myra, hopefully for several years. After my text exchange with Ty I believe that she needs a lot more than just a person to look after her, but someone who'll agree to be there for the long run. I'll make sure we'll get her that even if I have to stay until next year.