9. Tate

No one sits next to me on the flight to Seattle, and I don’t blame them. By the time I left for the arena, for the eleven a.m. skate, Mallory hadn’t come back from her walk. And when I got home after the skate to grab my luggage, she and Dylan were in her bedroom with the door shut so I never even got to smooth things over with her or say goodbye to him. Now I was angry at her too.

I wanted to say goodbye to Dylan. He would probably screech at me but I still wanted to see him before I left for four days. He was mine. My brain was finally starting to wrap itself around that fact, and every day I saw him I started to feel more and more for him. It was nuts. The fear and confusion I felt when I looked at him has faded and now it’s being replaced with a warm, tight feeling in my chest. Love? Awe? Pride? Probably all of that.

The plane taxis to the gate and most of the guys are already out of their seats grabbing their carry-on stuff. I unclip my seat belt and take my phone out of the seat pocket in front of me. I turn it on and feel a pinch of disappointment that there isn’t a text from Mallory. Dylan would be having dinner now. I would love an update. A picture. She said she’d send them while I was on road trips.

“She’s being unfair,” I growl to myself but a head pops up over the seat in front of me. It’s Nash.

“Who is being what?”

”This woman… I”m…” Oh shit. What do I say? ”I”m involved with is being unfair. About something. We”re fighting. It”s a long story.”

Nash smiles. “Gee, Garrison you seem like you’re great at communication. I have no idea why this woman would have a problem with you.”

“Ha. Ha.” I roll my eyes as his brother pops up next to Nash, and rests his thick, inked forearms on the back of his seat.

“Do not tell me you’re in a relationship,” Crew says, the disgust in his expression is matched only by the disgust in his tone. “You promised me you’d be here for my single era. All of it.”

“I am here for it,” I promise and rise myself, slipping into the aisle and yanking my Tumi leather travel bag from the overhead. “Bachelor for life, amigo. This is just… someone I’m involved with for, like business reasons. And she’s being unreasonable and I’m pissed off. But yeah, single for life bro. Or at least until this career is over.”

”Well, thankfully you had your shit together at morning skate so the career isn”t on the chopping block just yet,” Crew jokes, and Nash snickers.

“You two are fucking comedians,” I mutter as we all start to file off the plane.

I’m hit with a gust of frigid air, which reminds me that it’s barely spring. It’s hard to keep track of seasons in LA because they don’t have any. March feels like January or November. It’s not any different. Although Tenley jokes that they do have seasons in Los Angeles. They have drought and fire instead of summer and winter.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I yank it out hoping to see Mallory’s name. But it’s not. It’s Tenley. I swear she’s a witch and she knows when her name is thought or uttered anywhere in the world.

Hope you landed safely so that you can read this text and know I still think you’re a dick.

I said I”d rent you any listing on Air BnB as a replacement. I”m trying Ten. Fuck.

I had forgotten I promised to let my sister and her friends use my apartment while I was away on this road trip. Tenley is in her final year of year of Film and Television at UCLA and she and her classmates wanted to shoot a big chunk of their final project at my place. It didn’t seem like a big deal two months ago when I agreed, but I hadn’t anticipated having a baby hiding out there.

So when she called today to confirm, I had to lie and tell her a teammate’s house had a pipe burst and I’d agreed to let his wife and kids stay at mine while we were away. I had no idea how good I was at lying and I’m kind of bummed I know now. Lies suck. Liars suck and I’m one of them. And I’ve made Mallory one of them too.

”You haven”t stopped scowling for more than three seconds the entire flight and now you”re doing it again,” Duke Hendrix tells me. He”s our backup goalie and one of the guys I”m closest to on the team besides Nash and Crew.

“Yeah. Not a great day.” I growl and the lighthearted look on his face grows serious. “I’ll be fine.”

“Have you met with the sports psychologist yet?” Duke’s question almost makes me stumble. “I’m related to the coach, remember? It was my aunt Winnie’s birthday last week and they’re in town from Maine so we all went to dinner and Jude… Coach Braddock mentioned it. Before you get all pissy, know that I’ve been seeing a sports psychologist since I was sixteen, and a regular therapist since I was six. I had a deadbeat dad and a mom who grew up with some serious emotional trauma. She was pro-active and it was the best thing ever.”

“I’ve lined up a private one. Not the team’s shrink,” I tell him because even though I think they have some oath where they can’t share my personal info, I don’t trust this guy on the Quake’s payroll to keep my baby news to himself. “Gonna talk to the one my cousins use. Can we keep this between us, though?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Duke shrugs as we walk through the small private jet terminal. “You still hung up on that bullshit stereotype the world feeds us that men can’t have emotions or get help for them?”

I glare at him but that just makes him smile. “I’m not some kind of caveman. I’m cool with feelings and mental health. My cousin Conner is basically living with a psychiatrist, remember? She’s family even if they aren’t married yet. I just… don’t want a bunch of questions from the guys. Or my family. I know you’re friends with Grady but can you maybe not mention me or this to him if you guys hang this trip?”

“Dude, you don’t have to ask. I don’t talk teammates with Grady,” Duke replies. “We don’t talk hockey at all.”

Grady and Duke were on the Winterhawks together last year, but then Duke got traded here. It was great for Grady because my cousin got moved up from backup goalie to the starter, but Duke, who is older and on the backend of his career became our backup, which isn”t so great for him but also not unexpected since he”s pushing thirty-four.

We all get on the private bus that will take us to our hotel in downtown Seattle. Duke sits next to me and is blissfully quiet. I lean my head against the window and start checking my emails. There’s a notification from Amazon and I click on it. Someone has gifted me a book. I recognized Mallory’s email as the sender. She’s had the same one since high school.

The e-book she sent me is called Conscious Parenting; Creating Positive Bonds and Raising Emotionally Secure Children by Laurel Rody. No note. No explanation, but one isn’t needed. I need help and she may be mad at me but she’s still trying to help me. I really need to fix things with her before she takes off. I’ve let my friendship with Mallory be fucked for many reasons for far too long. And yeah, I am still wildly attracted to her, but she’s right. We have to restrain ourselves because getting naked together won’t do anything to improve our friendship. And in the end, that’s the most I can ever be to her. For her. At least for the foreseeable future.

* * *

Forty minutes after we get to the hotel, I’m flat on my back on my bed in team sweats reading the book Mallory gifted me. I’m two chapters in and so overwhelmed I’m making notes on the hotel stationery. I had no idea all the intellectual and emotional thought involved in raising a child. I know that sounds insane, and now I have a new respect for all parents—especially mine. They did all of this without me even realizing it.

I decide to call my mom. I would normally just text her if I had something to say or video call her. As Conner pointed out I”m the Garrison who uses his phone for everything but calls. Right now, though, I need to hear her voice and I also know if she sees my face, she”ll know something big is up. So a good old-fashioned voice call is the only option. Sitting up with my back against the headboard I hit her personal cell on my list of contacts. When she answers she sounds pleasantly surprised.

“Hi Tater Tot!” Her calm, melodious voice instantly relaxes me. “What a surprise. I was just talking to Auntie Callie about you.”

”Oh. You”re with Auntie C?” I say, and immediately want to hang up. My aunt Callie, my mom”s middle sister, is also married to my dad”s older brother. She”s an aunt twice over to me, technically, and I love her dearly, but she”s intense and couldn”t spell the word boundaries with a dictionary in her hand. She is like a drug-sniffing dog at an airport when it comes to problems and secrets. She finds them without even trying. So I have to be guarded on this call. ”Well, I just wanted to say hi. So hi. I”ll let you get back to whatever it is you”re doing.”

“We’re just having donuts after the gym,” Mom says with a small, guilty giggle.

”It”s all about balance, Tater. You could use some donuts!” my aunt calls out, and Mom shushes her.

I smile. I do love my family. And that’s why this situation is even harder. I care what they think more than anything. If I see looks of disappointment on their faces when they find out about Dylan, I will literally wither and die inside.

“What’s up with my favorite son?” Mom asks lightly. I’m her only son, by the way, so it’s not a hard title to earn.

“I just… wanted to say thanks,” I say and feel a knot in my throat. “You and Dad are awesome.”

“We are,” she agrees but then her voice drops an octave. “Why are you finally noticing?”

I laugh but the sound comes out like a choked gargle. “I’ve always noticed, I just never bothered telling you.”

“Good to know we’re appreciated,” she says. “I don’t need to hear it, but thank you. I love you. Now what’s going on?”

“I’ve just been…” I close my eyes. I can’t tell her. Not over the phone with Aunt Callie right there and not Dad. I should tell them together. In person. “Under a lot of pressure recently and it’s got me thinking deep thoughts. Not a big deal, I promise. I mean nothing I can’t handle but I’ve been thinking a lot about you and Dad and my childhood and how lucky I was without even knowing it.”

“Tate,” she says my name softly. I can picture her auburn eyebrows pinching together and her wide mouth falling flat with concern.

“Is he okay?” Callie’s voice, also heavy with concern, filters through the phone.

“A minute,” Mom says to her sister and then. “Seriously Cal. Give me a second.”

”Mom, don”t be freaking out. Don”t let Auntie C freak out. This is not some kind of crisis.” I open my eyes and stare at the cream-colored ceiling. I realize Dylan must stare at the ceilings a lot. It’s just plain old white in the guest room. I should change that. “Can’t a guy just have an adult moment of clarity without everyone freaking out?”

”I”m outside the donut shop now. Alone,” Mom tells me. ”Did you know we got another foot of snow yesterday? It”s all white and pretty but it”s way too cold. I could use some warmth and vitamin D. I think maybe your dad and I should come to LA.”

“No!” I say it so loud and forcefully that even I realize it’s a red flag. Fuck. “I mean, I’m not even there, Mom. Road trip. And with playoffs looming Coach already has us on lockdown so I can’t do much outside of workout, play, and sleep.”

“Ah yeah, lockdown.” She lets out a small sigh. “I don’t miss the slog of the playoffs, being a player’s wife. It was like being a single parent who lived with a grumpy, distracted polar bear.”

“So Dad wasn’t exactly a hands-on parent when he was a player?” I mean, I sort of remember. My dad retired when I was twelve. But his last few years his team didn’t make the playoffs and before that, well, I was too busy being a kid to notice who was tucking me in at night or reading me a story. I remember Dad doing things, though, but maybe they stick out in my head because it was so rare.

“He was there for the big stuff,” Mom replies. “He even blew off a practice the morning of a Game 7 when Tenley spiked a fever and needed to go to the emergency room. The coach was not sympathetic because it was just an ear infection, and we kind of guessed it at the time too, but Tenley was just inconsolable and I had you to handle too. You used to cry when she cried, over anything. It was the cutest thing. It was like you were trying to back her up or had sympathy pains or something.”

I bite back a smile at that. It’s hard to believe I ever felt that close to Tenley. I mean, I love my sister, but we are so different and tend to bicker a lot now. Mom keeps reminiscing. “He got benched for two whole periods for that, but he never bitched to me or the coach. But yeah, for the most part, in playoffs your dad kept his own schedule. Slept in the guest room so he wasn”t disturbed by me or you guys. If they went deep into the playoffs the coach put the team in a hotel, like every day was a road trip, to keep them in the right mindset. That pissed me off, but even when he was home he ate his own meals because his diet got so strict. He kept his own hours. You kids would see him maybe two hours a day. Sometimes I took you to the practices with the other wives and kids just so you could have a glimpse of him. It was tough, but I knew what I signed on for when I married him and I regret none of it.”

“But how do single parents handle it?”

“You know any single dads in the league?” she asks.

“Mmm… I don’t know any single parent players personally but there’re divorced players who have a kid or two.”

“And I would bet it all that they aren’t the primary custodian,” Mom replies. “Which means the ex does all the heavy lifting when they’re on the road or in playoffs or whatever. Ask your ex-Aunt Ashleigh. She divorced your Uncle Devin but she couldn’t divorce the lifestyle. Even after Devin married Callie, Ashleigh had to stay in New York because of the shared custody agreement. Before Devin married Callie, Ashleigh took Conner every road trip. You can leave the player but not the lifestyle. Not if there’s a baby involved.”

“Right,” I sigh. “So you basically just can’t be a single dad and a professional hockey player. At all. It’s impossible.”

“I mean, you can. You can do anything but…” Mom pauses and it sends the fear of God into me. She’s thinking about what I’m saying and trying to figure out why I’m saying it. “Why are we talking about single dads and hockey?”

”A guy on my team might be…” Oh God, here we go with the lies again. ”Might be having a kid with someone who… he thinks won”t stick around so he”d have to do it on his own.”

”As a hockey player?” Mom sounds skeptical. ”Then he needs to get himself a very good nanny because, for nine months of the year, his kid is going to be raised by one, sadly. Unless he has family close by.”

He doesn’t. Except a sister even younger than him. But he does have a great nanny, for now.

“Is this fellow player young like you?” Mom asks and I hear wind rustling into the phone mic. I know Silver Bay wind in spring can be bitingly cold. “I don’t envy a young single parent. Babies are not for the faint of heart. Now, why did you call? For real. Be honest. I am starting to freak out a little with this conversation.”

“I’m fine,” I lie and try to sound bright and chipper, which is probably another red flag because I’m not a bright chipper person. I’m more of an even-toned, snarky person. “I just really want to break Dad’s record and I haven’t been playing my best lately so it might not happen. And we have playoffs coming and we could actually win the Cup and I’m…”

“Upset about Diana Hutchens?”

“What?”

“I heard she was in an accident in London and died,” Mom informs me. “I know you must know. And I don’t know how close you two really were, but I do know you spent enough time together that this should be a little upsetting, to say the least.”

“Yeah. It is,” I admit. “More than I care to admit.”

“Did you have deeper feelings for her than you thought, Tater?”

“Not like… nothing heavy or anything,” I admit and that wave of guilt washes over me again. Because I wish I had been madly in love with her, for Dylan’s sake. “But I liked her as a person. We were friends above all else. I just… it shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know. That’s why they call it an accident,” Mom replies and then I hear Aunt C again.

“Get your butt in here before you freeze!”

Right. My mom is outside in the cold in Silver Bay, Maine. “Mom, thanks for the talk, but go inside and get warm. I’ll be fine.”

“You call me anytime, for any reason Tate,” she says and the worry in her voice is amplified by the fact she said my real name and not my nickname.

“I always do, Mom.”

“You can tell me anything, honey,” she says and oh how I wish that were true at the moment, but it isn’t. I need to settle his custody and make him like me before I announce this to my parents. I need them to see I have it handled. It’s going to be okay.

“Love you and love to Dad and Auntie C.” I hang up the phone, toss it across the bed, and stare at the ceiling again.

Eventually, I continue reading the book Mallory sent, adding notes to the hotel stationery. I finally break down, reach for my cell again, and text her.

Hope he settled okay tonight. Thanks for the book. Already started it.

I can tell she’s read the message almost instantly but all I get as a response is a thumbs up. So I text again.

I hate fighting with you.

It’s not eloquent but it’s honest.

She texts me a picture of Dylan. He’s asleep, sucking his thumb.

I miss him. And you. Have a good night.

I really do miss him, which is crazy because a few weeks ago I didn’t know he existed. I need to get my shit together. For him. This is my new reality and I need to adapt to it as fast and as well as possible. I scroll through my contacts to the number Conner sent me and I call the sports psychologist.