Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Niko

" Blyat'! " I hiss in a breath as the razor nicks my skin and blood beads to the surface in my reflection. These fucking porkchop sideburns. Shaving these down is the one and only benefit of losing in the conference finals this past week. It feels like I have been wearing earmuffs on my face.

All hockey players have superstitions, some more than others. Dan-O, our captain, wears the same underwear every game day–much to his wife Sara's horror. Monkowski, known to all as Money, kisses his skates before putting them on. I tap my stick on the ice in sets of three and talk to my posts before each game. I also have an entire gameday routine that never changes. I get out of bed on the left side, both feet touching the floor at the exact same time. Then I do one hundred pushups and one hundred sit-ups before leaving the bedroom. Next is a breakfast of black coffee, three hard-boiled eggs, whole-grain toast with peanut butter, and a banana. It never varies, no matter what. On the road, I even make certain the night before that the hotel can accommodate my breakfast order.

So, I understand superstitions more than anyone. That does not mean I enjoy looking like a nineteen seventies television cop with these bushy sideburns Benny declared we had to grow during playoffs. It messed with the beard style I usually wear.

I wipe my face with a towel, inspecting my trim job. I would have gladly kept the awful style through the finals, but it was not meant to be this year. Since next season is my last, I must impress upon my teammates the importance of another Stanley Cup win at every practice. But, for now, it is time to breathe–and switch my entire focus to Ayana.

With that in mind, I exit the bathroom, grabbing my phone as I go to the kitchen for coffee. Strakh opens one eye from a dead sleep next to his food bowl. I tired him out with a run earlier, and he has been dead to the world since. My assistant walks him when I am out of town, but she is not a runner like me.

"Rest up, little one. We see Ayana today," I tell him as I put in my earbuds to call my lawyer. He doesn't move, apart from a quirk of his eyebrows.

Before I can place the call, a new text alert pops up from Safiya.

Safiya: Did Katya call you?

I quickly type out my reply.

Me: Of course not. I called her.

As it turns out, Katya's cancer did not return; she was just running herself ragged and not eating enough, something she eventually confessed to her doctor. Since then, I have arranged for a weekly delivery service of fresh food to keep her stocked up and save her the errand.

Safiya: [laughing face emoji] Not even sure why I asked.

Me: The doctor is pleased.

Katya's bi-annual blood tests came back yesterday showing healthy numbers, something I found out when I called her earlier–after waiting fruitlessly for her promised call all night.

Safiya: Just wanted to make sure you heard. Talk to you later!

I scroll to my lawyer's contact and press it.

"Niko," Jane greets me once her assistant puts me through. Her tone is upbeat, which I hope spells good things.

I do not mess with pleasantries. "Any news?" I pull the coffee canister from the cupboard and set it by the machine.

"As a matter of fact, I just got off the phone with Peyton's lawyer. Since the court date has been bumped again , they've agreed to a two-week visitation in the meantime."

I freeze in place. "Two weeks?" I am unsure I trust my ears. The most extended stretches I have ever had with Ayana were one week, which is very seldom. It is usually the odd weekend or weekday here and there.

"Two weeks, big guy." I can hear the smile in my lawyer's voice.

"When? When can she come? My calendar is empty..." I begin to pace the tile floor of my kitchen, coffee forgotten. Two weeks with my Ayana. It is a dream.

"You and Peyton can discuss it and come up with some dates."

I jab my fingers through my hair, mind racing. "I am picking Ayana up in an hour for the afternoon, so I will speak with Peyton then." This is fantastic news.

"Sounds good. Continue keeping good records like you have been, and stay the course as the choir boy so we don't give them anything to use against us. Chin up, Niko. I'm confident the judge will see things our way."

"If we are ever allowed to see him." My voice does not carry its normal despair this time.

Jane does not directly respond to my comment, instead saying, "Give your girl a squeeze from me, and I'll be in touch."

I quickly make coffee and inhale a sandwich before packing supplies in a backpack and hustling Strakh to my Land Rover. The puppy seems to prefer car rides to anything else, and Ayana insisted I buy him a seatbelt harness to keep him safe. So, of course, I did. The drive to Peyton's Mediterranean-style home is thirty minutes, but I know the route so well, I hardly pay attention. I am lucky she remained in the Tampa area after our divorce, but she has a vast network of friends nearby—even if she lacks a job keeping her local.

That is not to say she does not work. But she appears to change jobs more often than Benny changes sticks. I believe she currently works as a model and actress in local advertisements. I saw her in an ad for a car dealership last week.

I pull into the driveway, noticing the grass needs a trim. I will have to hire a new company to take care of it since it is clear Peyton is not tending to it, as she promised. Ayana needs grass to play on—not weeds to carry mosquitoes.

But the grass is forgotten when Ayana bursts out the front door and down the two steps, her gorgeous bright smile aimed at me. "Dad!"

Strakh barks, straining against his seatbelt and pawing at one of the back doors, but I am claiming my daughter's first hug. Too bad, furry one .

I round the hood of the vehicle and lift Ayana into the air. "Ms. Drugov, you have grown two inches!"

"I've been eating tofu," she announces, circling her little arms around my neck. "And I lost another tooth. See." She widens her mouth in a grimace, showing off a new gap along her bottom gums.

"You will have to leave it for the tooth mouse so you will grow a strong tooth in its place."

"Mom says it's the tooth fairy , not the tooth mouse ." She eyes me earnestly. "I'm going with the fairy since she deals in cash."

I have no chance to respond since Strakh has reached his limit as his barking escalates. Ayana drops from my arms and races to the backseat to greet her dog.

"So, that's the famous Paul, huh?"

I turn to see Peyton in her front doorway. She looks beautiful, as always, her wavy blond hair catching the sun, and her body encased in form fitting workout gear that leaves very little to the imagination.

I step closer so we can speak without Ayana overhearing. "We are still working on the name," I tell her before getting down to business. "My lawyer says you are giving me two weeks."

She nods, her eyes still on our daughter. "I have some plans, so I thought you could take her while I'm busy."

"I am always happy to take her. You know this."

Her gaze finally shifts to me, and she does a quick sweep of my body and face. "You look good, Niko."

I cannot discern her tone, but I am automatically on alert. It is not like her to hand out compliments, much less make it easy for me to see Ayana. I can only hope she is turning over a new leaf and not hatching a new scheme.

I settle on, "You too," as my response, keeping my eyes only on her face. "I was thinking...there is a wedding in the Bahamas in a few weeks. Roman's." She knows my former teammate and captain from the old days. "I thought Ayana might like to come. You know how she loves the beach."

Peyton's eyebrows spike. "The Bahamas?" But she does not immediately shoot me down, instead bobbing her head from side to side for a few moments. "Let me think about it, okay?"

I nod, pleased enough that she will consider it. "So, when are these plans you have?" My entire summer is clear, so it matters little to me.

"The last two weeks of this month."

"Done." I nod again. "And I will send a new lawn crew over to start caring for the lawn." I do not understand why she fired the last crew I hired. Then again, I do not understand most of what Peyton does.

I am surprised again when she agrees. "Okay. I meant to get to it. I've just been...busy."

"Bye, Mom!" Ayana yells from the backseat. I turn to see Strakh sitting on her lap and licking her chin.

"Bye, baby!" Peyton waves, and I turn to go. "Back before five, Niko. She has dance," she instructs me, her tone returning to a more familiar one. This Peyton, I know how to deal with.

"No problem," I respond before jogging to the driver's side, anxious to squeeze in as much time with my kid as possible. But I have two weeks on the horizon, and I cannot wait.