19. Tate

Tenley and Mallory stop speaking. I look up, eyes wide with embarrassment, which I know must make me look guilty as hell. “Sorry.”

Mallory looks away and immediately goes back to the contents of the box on the island, turning her back to me. Tenley glares with the heat of a thousand suns. I bolt all the way upstairs until I”m alone in my new bedroom. I close the door, tip my head back, and close my eyes. That was a nightmare.

Fuck, I can”t believe that happened in front of my sister, and right after Mallory basically asked me if we”re exclusive. And I didn”t really answer. Double fuck.

I open my eyes and look around the room. It”s all my stuff but it doesn”t feel like it. My bed, my dresser, and my night tables all look ridiculously tiny, like doll furniture, because this room is way bigger than my other bedroom. The bed is against a false wall, facing the bifold doors that open onto the balcony that overlooks the canal. Behind the false wall is a closet which you walk through to get to the massive slate and stone bathroom.

I walk over toss my phone on the charging pad on the nightstand and drop onto the bed. At least it feels familiar. The California sun is spilling into the room, illuminating everything. It”s great but not when I”m supposed to nap. I roll over to get up but I see the little remote on the other night table, grab it, and hit the button marked close. There”s a hum and black-out blinds slowly descend on the windows.

Once the room is submerged in darkness I peel out of everything and slip under the sheets. Sleep evades me for way too long because all I can think about is that blunder. I finally doze off but it doesn”t last long because I”m suddenly being shoved awake.

I know that shove all too well. I remember it from childhood. The rough shake on my shoulder on Christmas mornings or school days when I slept through my alarm. And it’s always followed by a small but hard smack to the side of my head.

I lift my arm, blocking the impending slap with my forearm. “Tenley get the fuck out of my room.”

“Nope.”

“Oh my God, why didn’t Mom and Dad stop with one kid?” I groan and sit up. I’m groggy and grumpy. “I have a game to play tonight. Come on. You know better than to be a menace on game night.”

“You were watching sexting videos in front of Mallory and your son!” Tenley announces in a hiss and then she shoves my shoulder again. I don’t expect it and kind of rock, almost tipping over in the bed.

“It was an accident.”

I reach for the remote for the blackout blinds. I need light to defend myself. As the blinds slowly raise her angry face comes into view and she takes in my naked torso with the covers bunched at my waist. “Are you naked?”

“Yes. It’s my bedroom and I sleep naked.”

Tenley steps back from the bed and spins to face the wall. “Gross. Get up. Put on something so I can yell at you.”

“How about you get the fuck out of my room,” I growl. “Game day, Ten. Damnit!”

I grab the pants I dropped to the floor earlier and tug them on without underwear. Tenley, still facing the wall, says, “In all seriousness Tate, I don’t know who you are anymore and I don’t like it.”

“What the hell does that mean? Why don’t you think you know me?” I question. “You can turn around.”

She faces me again, pushing her long blonde hair back over her shoulders before folding her arms over her chest, which is covered in a black t-shirt with simple white lettering that says Not Photoshopped. “You aren’t going to beat Dad’s record, are you?”

I sigh and walk into the closet so I can find a suit that Christine will approve of. I don’t know what my ‘best suit’ is. “I have no idea how it’s going to go, Ten.”

She appears in my closet. “I think you do. I saw the way you averted your eyes when the topic came up and the vague answer. This is all you’ve wanted since you picked up a damn hockey stick as a toddler. To beat Daddy.”

I make a face. “Don’t call him Daddy. That’s so fucking weird.”

“You’re not even going to try to score anymore, are you?” Tenley looks furious. Like this is some kind of personal offense. “Because you’re trying to hide Dylan?”

“Tenley just shut up and mind your own business for once!” I bark.

“He’s my nephew. He is my business!” she snaps. “I may never have kids, okay? You having some one day was my only hope.”

Whoa. I did not expect that to come out of her mouth or for her eyes to start filling with tears. Tenley turns away from me, wiping at her eyes, but she continues talking. “I didn’t expect you to have one now, while I was in college, and you still have the emotional intelligence of a potato, but hey. Whatever. Dylan is here and Mom and Dad will love him, like I do. To pieces. The whole family will if you fucking let them!”

“I just need the paternity results, Ten. And then to tell the coach and PR.”

“He’s had more trauma than any kid should have already, so don’t make it worse by hiding him from the world and being a dad who fails on purpose,” Tenley barks at me, hands on her tiny hips. “What the fuck, Tate. You’re a Garrison. We don’t fail. Especially not on purpose.”

“Stop with your melodramatics.” I sigh. “For the record, you constantly on my ass about everything is not helping.”

“Are you going to stop trying to score? Are you going to miss the net on purpose?”

I stare at my perfectly hung suits. “Yes. Okay? If the lawyer can’t get the birth certificate sorted before the end of the season, then yes.”

“Why?”

I sigh, close my eyes, and turn to face her. She”s standing by the built-in dresser. Her glare has softened and she just looks confused more than irate. ”They want to do this big ceremony, even if I just tie the stupid record and bring Mom and Dad here and it will be a thing. I can”t risk that so… I can”t break the record.”

”I know. Someone named Christine already contacted me about it all,” Tenley replies. ”She wants me at the last game of the season. I called Mom and they”ve been invited too. It”s supposed to be a surprise.”

“What?” I shake my head. “No. No. I said fucking no!”

“Deep breaths,” Tenley reaches out and grips my bare shoulders firmly. “You should have the DNA results soon and then the lawyer can work overtime to get the new birth certificate. And besides, Tate, Mom and Dad aren’t going to care about all that shit.”

“Fuck. I have to tell the coach tonight.” I start to pace. “And Christine or Adam, her boss. Both. Probably both. She is the one who sent me the video by the way.”

“You’re sleeping with a Quake employee?” Tenley asks. “Even I know that’s not smart.”

“I’m not. I haven’t in a while, but we don’t have a fraternization policy so it’s not like it’s wrong,” I reply. “Ten, can you leave now? I have a lot to deal with.”

She hesitates but turns and starts to leave. I grab the pieces of my favorite suit, a charcoal and navy one with muted checks, a white shirt, and a navy tie. When I move back into the bedroom to lay it out before my shower, Tenley is still standing by the door. I’m about to bark at her to leave again, but she levels me with a serious stare. “She’s not one of your bed buddies, Tate. She may be playing the part but she wants more than that. And if you break her heart, you’re a total asshole.”

And then she leaves before I can ask what the hell she’s going on about. But the fact is, I know. It’s Mallory. But Mallory knows what we’re doing. We’ve talked about it and she’s been a willing participant.

Well, I’ll add having a talk with Mal to my long list of uncomfortable things I need to do. And I’m sure it will be as painful as missing the net on purpose, which I’ll also have to do tonight if someone slides me the puck on a power play.

I head into the shower filled with stress and a little rage. Why are things getting worse instead of better?

* * *

I”m late so the glare from Christine isn”t unexpected. The ESPN crew is looking a little miffed too. I give them all a sheepish smile. ”Sorry. There was an accident on the 10 so I had to take surface streets.”

Total lie but this is a sports station, not a news station. They”re not going to know. Christine”s frown lessens a little as I immediately drop onto the stool they have set up for me. ”Where”s the interviewer?”

I glance around. We’re doing this in the hallway, halfway between the home and visitor locker rooms, and if we don’t get to it, the teams will be arriving and we won’t get the quiet we need. “He went to the bathroom. He’ll be here in a minute. Let’s do a lighting and sound test, okay?”

I nod at the guy talking and he walks over and mics me up. Usually, the interviewer just holds a big mic for these things, but they”re putting a tiny one on my lapel instead. It doesn”t raise a red flag but there”s a weird look on the camera guy”s face when a moment later he says. ”So I”m gonna shoot some footage, just to get the angles and the lighting right. You can ignore me.”

Okay… I do. I pull out my phone and send Mallory a text. When I got downstairs after my shower I found a note that she was on a grocery run and would be back. I waited as long as I could for her to return, and then even took the long way here, driving by the closest Trader Joe’s and the closest Ralph’s to see if I could see the new SUV in the parking lot. I was fully ready to stop and run into the store and talk to her, even if it meant I was super late. But I didn’t see the car.

Hey. I need to explain that video. And I will. Don’t worry.

Please wait up for me tonight. I want to see you.

I close my WhatsApp and a picture of Dylan fills my screen. He”s standing in the old townhouse. Well, standing is a stretch. He”s holding himself up by gripping the edge of the sofa but the smile on his face is so big and proud. Mallory says he may start walking any day now. I hope I”m home for it.

“So, Tater Tot Garrison, how does it feel to be on the verge of crushing your dad’s ego?”

The voice is deep, jovial, confident, and one I’ve been hearing as long as I’ve heard my own parents’ voices. My head snaps up and walking toward me is my uncle Devin.

He”s dressed in a light gray suit with a mic clipped to his lapel too. I stand up, dropping my phone onto the chair and trying not to let my jaw hit the concrete floor. The floor feels like it’s wobbling because my knees are on the verge of buckling from surprise—and fear.

He doesn’t notice and, grinning, pulls me into a bear hug. I wrap my arms around him too, because what the hell else can I do? Faint? Yeah, that feels like something I want to do, but I can’t. I shoot a glare at Christine over Uncle Devin’s shoulder. “Hey! Wow!” I say, hoping my voice isn’t as clogged with terror as my heart is. “If I’d known you were the one doing the interview I would have been later, and I wouldn’t have bothered with my best suit.”

“If that’s your best, then you need a new stylist,” Devin jokes and ruffles my hair like I’m six again. I swat his hand away good naturally and he hugs me again.

Oh God. Oh fuck. I step back from the hug and mentally give my head a shake. It’s fine. It’s just an interview. I can handle this. Devin grins. “When they asked me to do this, I couldn’t wait. You know your dad still gloats about that record but when we were playing together it was his constant dig. He knew I was horrible at killing power plays, so it was the one record that I wouldn’t be able to beat.”

“Well, you did pretty good being the Barons’ Captain and getting your name on the Cup three times,” I remind him.

He grins. “You think you might be the next Garrison to add your name to that trophy?”

He moves toward the chairs and so I follow beside him. The cameras are rolling and have been since before he walked down the hall. I realize the ‘test’ was them setting up this little surprise. I wonder, irrationally, if they could see my screen while I was typing.

“I’m not the only Garrison who is going to be in the playoffs,” I remind my uncle AKA the ESPN reporter, as I reach for my phone, which I carelessly put on his stool not my own. “Conner, Grady, and Theo will also probably be in the first round this year.”

“You’ll have to face Grady in the first round,” Devin grabs my phone before I can. He passes it to me, casually, like it’s no big deal. But he looks down and sees Dylan’s photo. His eyes fly up to mine and he grins. “Wait… do you have your own baby picture as your screen saver?”

Oh fuck.

I swallow but my throat is closing like I’m in some kind of anaphylactic shock. I cough a little. Devin laughs. “I haven’t seen this one. It’s adorable, but I’m surprised there isn’t a hockey stick in it. You used to carry around this plastic one everywhere you went.”

He starts to hold it up toward the camera. I try and grab it from his hand, but he still has quick reflexes and manages to keep it from me. So I plaster a wooden smile on my face. “No one needs to see my goofy baby face.”

”Want to? They need to!” Devin grins and I want to punch him, which is unfair. He”s a great uncle and he”s just doing his job. He starts to turn my phone to the screen again but I manage to grab it this time, covering it with my palm ripping it from his grip, and sliding it into my pocket.

I turn to the camera “You better be splashing a picture of baby Grady on national television too if you interview him. Maybe that will throw him off his game if we face him in round one.”

I watch my uncle”s hazel eyes flicker with something that breaks through his sportscaster face, but it”s gone before anyone registers it. He motions for us to both finally sit down. ”I know before we all ended up on the same team it was a mixed bag of emotions when I had to face your dad or your Uncle Luc. I wanted to win, but I hated to beat them. Is it the same with your cousins?”

I nod. “Yeah, I mean, ultimately I want us all to have our names on the Cup. I know they feel the same, but… one of us has to be first. Might as well be me.”

Devin laughs. Hell, the whole crew and even Christine laugh. The interview is back on track. It goes on for another ten minutes, and we talk about the short-handed goals record and growing up with my dad playing, and pond hockey with the cousins. It’s a perfect interview, on the outside. Fans love the family dynasty thing and Devin is a charismatic interviewer.

But every moment is a vortex of misery for me because all I can think about is that picture of Dylan on national television. How clear was it? Who will see it? I mean, my family will because I”d bet all I own that they”re all watching. They all knew about this surprise interview before I did. Maybe not Tenley. She wouldn”t have hidden this from me, but my uncles and aunts would have known. And my parents.

Finally, Devin wraps it up, wishing me luck for the shorty record and the impending playoffs and we hug instead of shaking hands. ”Cut!” the cameraman calls out.

Devin turns to him. “You guys get that footage straight to head office. They want to run it tonight after the game.”

“Can you cut the baby photo stuff out?”

“No! It was adorable!” Christine argues and her bright red lips are parted in a grin. “Can I see the photo again? We can put it on our website when we link to the piece. In fact, it gave me an idea to do a whole baby photo thing with the entire team.”

“I wish Conner played for you guys. I have a great one of him covered in birthday cake,” Devin chuckles.

“I’ll send you a copy or something,” I mutter to Christine. I grab my uncle’s arm. “Can we talk? Do you have a second? Alone.”

He nods and we start down the hall. The problem is we aren”t in a private area. The guys on both teams have started wandering in so there are people at both ends of the curving hallway. I walk to the medical room. It”s used when someone gets a hit to the head during the game as the concussion protocol space. Or if someone needs stitches. I pull Devin into the room and close the door.

“You can’t show that photo.”

He blinks and really looks at me. I can feel him taking in my panic and agitation. He cocks his head to one side. “Okay. Why?”

“Because.”

“Tate. I don’t have any control over the back end of interviews,” Devin tells me.

“Uncle Devin, please. You can’t. It’s not me,” I finally confess.

Something feels inherently, intensely wrong about telling my uncle before my parents. Like this will just make the whole situation worse. He narrows his eyes and then he gets this look of understanding, and he smiles. ”Was that Tenley? You guys did almost look like twins as kids. You were a blond too for the first couple of years.”

”What? No. We didn”t.” It”s my automatic reaction anytime someone says I look like my sister. But I realize he”s given me an out on this and I have to take it. ”I mean, if you all thought it was me, I guess we did. Thankfully we don”t anymore.”

He makes a face like I’m an idiot. “Why do you have a pic of your sister as your wallpaper?”

“Because it annoys her,” I say like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

Devin laughs. “I am so happy that there is no sibling rivalry between Liv, Mae, and Conner. You and Tenley have enough for the entire family anyway.”

”Yeah. We do,” I mutter. ”Can you have them cut it? If not, my life will be hell from now until the end of time.”

Uncle Devin shoots me a sympathetic smile and squeezes my shoulder. “Should be doable. But that PR lady seems to have her own ideas now.”

“I can give her a real baby photo and she can do what she wants on the Quake site,” I promise him and he nods.

I open the door, because I have to get to the locker room and change now. “Tater, we’re all cheering you on. Even your dad.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“Maybe rejoin the family group chat and acknowledge our existence once in a while?” Uncle Devin gently suggests and I nod.

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m still there, just muted you guys,” I admit with a sheepish grin.

“Conner is the muter, not you.”

“Fine. I’ll pop in this week and say something to piss you all off, so you know I’m doing fine,” I joke and he laughs.

I wave goodbye and bolt into the locker room. I want to believe I dodged a bullet, but I”m shaky and almost nauseous as I change into my gear. It still feels like there”s a bullet with my name on it.