23. Mallory

Ifeel a little lost. I haven’t had a free afternoon since I got here. But Mr. and Mrs. Garrison insisted I take the afternoon and do things for myself. They wanted some time with Dylan. I couldn’t say no. They were handling this better than I’d expected and if they wanted to bond with their grandson, I would let them. So although I had no idea what to do, I left the house. I could stick around, but it was still a little weird.

I had never really spoken much to either of Tate”s parents. My family and their family were forced together at town events because everyone wanted to see the famous hockey players together, but my family and Tate”s liked to pretend the other didn”t exist. I remember being about ten at the grocery store with my mom and she literally got out of a short line and into a very long one just to avoid standing directly behind Jessie Garrison.

But for me personally, I”ve never had any reason to dislike Jordan or Jessie Garrison. Because I”ve never really met them until today. And the way they accepted Dylan so openly, and were ready to accept me when they thought I was his mom, definitely doesn”t make me hate them. They seem like good people.

But now that they know I”m not the mom, and they”ve been told I”m the girlfriend, there”s a slight shift in the dynamic. They”re cordial with me, but thank God we have Dylan as a distraction. Otherwise, we would be struggling to make small talk all day and ignoring the elephant in the room, which is whatever the hell went down between them and my parents when they were my age.

So now, I’m walking leisurely through the Third Street promenade in Santa Monica. I have an iced caramel latte in my hand and a shopping bag in the other. I spent forty minutes in a store convincing myself to buy a new outfit for my first official date with Tate. It’s a pretty, snug cocktail dress in a dark jewel-tone green. It”s like nothing I”ve ever owned before and I”m probably insane for buying it, and the two hundred dollar heels the sales clerk said were the only shoes in the world that went with it, but… this is a big deal for me.

I”m dating my dream man. I should splurge on something pretty. And lord knows I have the money. Tate”s been paying me and I don”t have a single living expense. My phone starts to buzz in my purse so I dig it out and take a seat on a bench facing one of the dinosaur topiaries that pepper the outdoor walkways. My brother Beckett”s name is on the screen and for the first time in a long time, I smile when looking at it. He”s called me at least once a week since I got here, but I”ve started to avoid his calls. He is digging for information for my parents, who still want me to come home.

”Hi, Beck.”

“Hey yourself,” he replies. “You sound… happy?”

I smile. “Yeah. You could say that. How are you? How’s the wedding planning coming?”

“I don’t know. Ask Heather. She’s the one handling everything,” he replies and there’s a tension in his voice that I know well. “And before you give me attitude like Ma does for not helping organize this debacle, I’ll tell you she won’t let me do a thing. She says I will fuck it up and waste time.”

He sounded like that all through high school too. I thought it was because he was stressed out trying to get the grades to get into a good school. After all, he knew even then that he wanted to be a doctor. Or maybe the pressure from our dad to keep playing hockey, which he gave up in junior year. But now I know it was dating Heather that stressed him out. He didn”t sound like this after they broke up. Not when he was in college or when he was dating Mackenzie Larue.

“Brides will be brides, I guess,” I say because what do I know? I’m not a bride. Tate flashes through my brain, in one of his fancy suits, standing at the edge of Silver Bay Lake, in front of an archway of wildflowers and a minister, with Dylan in a teeny suit by his side.

Whoa. Chill out brain. We are so not there yet.

“Mal? Hello!”

“Sorry. What?”

”I said when are you coming back?” he barks, a little annoyed I zoned out. ”Heather is worried you”ll bail on the wedding. Mom and Dad are worried you met some granola-eating hippie in Oregon or joined a cult.”

I laugh so loud passersby glance over. I quiet down and take a sip of my latte. “Let me guess, Dad is worried about the hippie, Mom about the cult.”

“Yes,” Beckett replies. “And I’m worried about you. How are you supporting yourself? How are your injuries? And your mental health?”

”I”m healing both mentally and physically.” I stare out at the busy promenade and up at the blue skies above. The gentle ocean breeze dances through my hair. ”I”m happy like you said. And I”m going to be okay. I will be home for the wedding but… I think this is where I”m going to stay. For a while.”

”In Oregon?” He says it like it”s a steaming pile of dog poo.

”I have to go, Beck,” I tell him. ”I have a date tonight. But don”t worry you can tell Mom and Dad it”s not with a granola-eating hippie or a cult member.”

“Well who is it?—”

“Bye Beck!”

I hit end on the call and shove the phone back in my purse. I get up. Obviously Mr. and Mrs. Garrison know how to take care of a toddler but I still feel like I’ve been gone long enough. I should go home and make sure everything is okay.

I stand up and start toward the parking garage off Third Street where I left the new Mercedes SUV Tate bought for Dylan and me to use. I wonder how his meeting with management is going. I know it’s going to be a weird conversation, but I’m glad that Dylan won’t be a secret anymore. If Tate actually wins the Cup this year, I want Dylan there with him.

“Mal?”

I stop walking.

“Mallory?”

I know that voice. I turn around and there, in front of the Gap Store, is my younger brother Emmett and two guys I don’t know. I can tell by their hulking size they’re likely also hockey players from his team. Emmett lumbers over with a friendly but surprised grin. He pulls me into a hug. “What are you doing in California? Mom and Dad said you were in Oregon.”

I’m on vacation. I am visiting a friend. I’m not Mallory, I must just look like your sister sorry strange man, have a good day. All of these lies run through my head but none of them come out of my mouth. Emmett is the sibling I’m closest to, but that doesn’t mean much. Still, I really don’t have a reason to keep lying. Tate is talking to his team right now. His parents know. Dylan’s birth certificate, with Tate’s name on it, is being processed.

“I live here.”

Emmett pulls back from the hug and stares at me with his eyes that match my own. “You live here? In Santa Monica, California?”

“Well, in Venice actually,” I reply and stare at his teammates. “Hi. I’m his sister.”

“Echolls, you didn’t mention you had a beautiful sister,” one of them says with a broad flirty smile.

“I’ll catch up with you two later,” Emmett replies and starts pulling me away from his horny teammates.

When we’re across the walkway near an overly fragrant candle shop, he turns back to me. “What the fuck, Mal? Why does everyone think you’re in Oregon.”

“Because I lied to them,” I admit. “Em, look, I was dealing with a lot when Diana died. And you know how Mom and Dad are. If I went back to Silver Bay, my situation would have been more complicated.”

He stares down at me, his expression contemplative. He gets how overbearing our parents can be. How Dad loves to make everything about him and Mom isn’t happy unless she’s miserable. Beckett is a lot like them, so he doesn’t see it. But Emmett does. He’s a hockey player, which automatically makes him Dad’s favorite but he’s not like Dad. On or off the ice.

He grips my shoulders and gives them a squeeze. “I’m just glad you seem to be okay. You look good Mallory.”

“I am good.” I give him a quick smile. “I guess you’re here to play the Quake?”

“Yeah.” He tilts his head. “You don’t follow my career at all, do you?”

“I do!” I feel like shit. “I just… I have been busy, Em.”

He leans down a bit so he can grab one of my hands. He”s so tall that I”m a literal munchkin beside him. Emmett is a towering six-foot-five. In high school, he played both basketball and hockey, much to my father’s dismay.

“I haven’t called because Mom, Dad, and Beckett all say you barely ever pick up anyway, but I want you to know how sorry I am about Diana.” The sadness in Emmett’s hazel eyes is genuine. “And I’m glad to see you’re okay. Your injuries have obviously healed.”

“Yes. I’m good and I’ve been cleared by a doctor here so you can tell Mom and Dad that,” I reply and squeeze his hand before pulling my own back. “I should go though. And I’m sure you want to rejoin your teammates. Good luck tonight.”

“Wait one minute!” Emmett says firmly before I can start to walk away. I turn back and stare at him. He cocks his head again. “Why did you pick Los Angeles, Mal? Of all the places to start over, why L.A.?”

“I mean…” I hold up my hands and kind of wave them around. “Look at this place. It’s sunny all the time. It’s warm. There’s a beach every five miles. And lots of nanny work.”

“So you have a job?”

“I… yeah. I have a job.”

Emmett stares at me like he’s waiting for me to elaborate, but I don’t want to. He lifts an eyebrow. I look away, concentrating on the ridiculous topiary. “What happened to Diana’s kid?”

“He’s with his father.”

Emmett nods his head. I see it in his shadow because I still won”t look at him. ”So not that dude she was engaged to? The actual father?”

I nod.

“Tate Garrison?” Emmett says his name and I flinch. I don’t mean to, it’s an involuntary act but it’s a tell as obvious as a neon sign.

I slowly bring my eyes up to my younger brother’s. I blink. He lets out a long slow breath. “Shit. I fucking knew it.”

“How did you know it?”

Emmett chuffs out a confident laugh. “Mal, I can do math. She would have had to get knocked up the second she got off the plane to have it be the British dude’s baby. And Garrison was her constant bed buddy for like two years. Everyone in Silver Bay knew that.”

“Emmett, you cannot tell Mom and Dad!” I whisper as if we’re being eavesdropped on. “You can’t tell anyone. Tate is just now able to tell his parents and his team.”

“So you came here to deliver the kid to Garrison?” Emmett replies, ignoring my pleas. “And now you’re staying?”

“I like California and I’m… I’m staying with Dylan, as his nanny.” I can’t bring myself to say I’m dating Tate. I don’t know why.

Emmett looks shocked and his jaw drops for a second. “You are Garrison’s nanny?”

“No. I’m Dylan’s nanny.”

“You’re working for your bestie’s bed buddy? The dude you had a crush on in junior high?” Emmett is laughing at me. Not outwardly, but inwardly. I can see it in his eyes and the way he’s smirking. “Between Beck taking back that nightmare Heather and you setting yourself up for heartbreak over here, it’s finally official. I’m the only well-adjusted Echolls kid.”

“Shut up,” I snap, feeling like the little girl who used to get teased by both her brothers all the time growing up. “I’m not some lovesick stalker girl chasing her childhood crush across the country! I owed it to Diana to get Dylan to his dad. The only person who wanted him, by the way. And Tate and I are?—”

“Friends.” Emmett rolls his eyes at the word. “Yeah. I know. You have been saying that for years. But Mal, you aren’t supposed to want to bang your friends.”

I blush and Emmett laughs, taking it as a sign of guilt. He puts a hand on my shoulder again but this time it feels condescending, not compassionate. I shrug it off. ”Nice seeing you, Emmett. I hope Tate wipes the ice with your team.”

I turn and start to stomp off. “Mal, wait!”

I only make it a few feet and then he’s a wall in front of me. His dark curly hair rustling in the breeze and his expression contrite. “I’m sorry. I promise I’m not making fun of you.”

“Spoiler alert: It feels like you are.”

He smiles guiltily. ”I”m sorry. I”m just protective of you. Honestly, that”s all it is.”

“I’m a big girl, Em,” I promise him. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m not going to get hurt.”

I”m not. Tate and I are on the same page. And in a couple months, we”ll head home together, as a couple, for the hockey summer break—hopefully with a Stanley Cup ring on his finger—and they”ll all see how happy we are. Then maybe everyone will stop treating me like a confused child.

“Just don’t let Garrison take advantage, Mal,” Emmett warns. “The guy doesn’t make it a secret he’s not into commitment, and that’s fine, but don’t fool yourself into thinking he’s gonna be different with you if he hits on you.”

“Don’t worry about me.” I just want this conversation to end.

He stares at me for a heartbeat and then nods and pulls me into a hug. “You’re right. I’m being one of those overprotective jackass brothers I hate. I know you can handle yourself. And besides, you wouldn’t want Diana’s leftovers. That would be weird.”

Ouch.

He lets go of me and takes a step back. “Bye Em.”

”Later, Mal.” He starts walking backward slowly, away from me in the direction his teammates disappeared. ”Will you pick up the phone if I call now?”

I nod give him a wave and watch him disappear into the crowd. My walk to the car is decidedly less upbeat than it would have been had I not run into my brother. I want to text Tate and tell him about running into Emmett and ask why he didn’t tell me he was playing Emmett. But I know he’s dealing with the team management this afternoon and also, I should have known the hockey schedule. And if I picked up any of my parents’ calls lately, they’d have likely mentioned Emmett’s road trip. They always talk about him, especially Dad.

I get behind the wheel of the SUV tuck my bags onto the passenger seat and pull out of the spot to start my trip home.

At the house, I walk in to find Mr. and Mrs. Garrison relaxing in the backyard. They’re stretched out on a couch together. Mrs. Garrison is looking at her phone and Mr. Garrison is watching a sports show on the outdoor television. She looks up from her phone and shoots me a smile as I step outside. “All good?”

“For us, yes,” she replies and holds up her phone. “I’m just watching Dyllie Bear sleep on the app you installed for me. This is so much better than the old monitors they had when Tate and Tenley were little.”

“It’s amazing,” I agree.

“Tate’s having a harder time of it,” Mr. Garrison says and he points to the screen. I look at the headline on the screen under the reporter, who is outside the Quake arena.

Quake forward Landon Casco collapses at practice. Transported to UCLA Medical Center.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

“Tate called,” Mr. Garrison says. “No one is sure what it is yet, but he’s in stable condition.”

“They really shouldn’t have given away the hospital he’s at,” Mrs. Garrison says with a frown. “Fans will swarm the place.”

“It’s Los Angeles,” Mr. Garrison remarks. “If anyone knows how to handle wild fans, it’s the security in this town. Celebrities get hospitalized too, you know.”

“Come sit down,” Mrs. Garrison says and motions to the couch they aren’t on. “I promise we don’t bite.”

“No matter what your parents might have told you,” Mr. Garrison adds and she slaps his chest. He grins and gives me a small wink.

“Can I ask what that is all about? Your side,” I clarify. “Because I know their side.”

“Oh I would love to hear their side,” Mr. Garrison remarks acerbically.

“Jordy! Be nice. Last warning,” Mrs. Garrison warns. She looks over at me, brushing copper hair out of her face. “I’m sorry. Don’t take it personally.”

“I don’t,” I reply. “I love my parents, but I know they aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

She reaches out and pats my hand. “Well, I’m glad you’re Tate’s cup of tea, Mallory. You seem like a very sweet girl and I’m grateful to you for reuniting Dylan and Tate.”

“Don’t thank me.” I shake my head. “I know Diana would have wanted Dylan with Tate.”

“Then why didn’t she tell him about his son?” Mr. Garrison demands, his voice is gentle but I know he’s upset.

“She had reasons, and I didn’t totally agree with them,” I say. “I was going to make sure Tate knew, even before the accident. Even if it cost me my friendship with Di.”

They both nod and Mrs. Garrison looks at her phone again. “He sleeps just like Tate did. Splayed out like a starfish but with his thumb in his mouth. Oh man, this is a trip. I don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my head around this.”

“I appreciate how you’re handling it, though,” I tell her. “You’re not acting disappointed.”

“I’ll be honest with you.” Mrs. Garrison looks up from her phone. “I would have loved it if he had been more careful and waited to be a father until he was older. But… well life doesn’t always unfold the way you’d hoped. I didn’t want to be orphaned at nine years old, but I was and in a way, good things came from it. My sisters and I had to move to Silver Bay, where Donna Garrison took us under her wing, and I met her son and fell in love. So good things can come from unexpected plot twists in life.”

“I like that you think of Dylan as a plot twist and not a mistake,” I note.

She grins. “No one in this family is a mistake. Even me who was born to a gallivanting hockey player out of wedlock.”

“I would call your sister Callie a mistake,” Mr. Garrison says and he grins, so I know it’s a joke.

“She would call you an abomination,” Mrs. Garrison shoots back.

There”s a cry and Mrs. Garrison”s eyes dart to her phone. ”Oh, Dyllie Bear is awake!”

I get up. “I’ll go get him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ve missed him,” I admit and both of Tate’s parents smile at me as I head into the house and upstairs.

This is strange, and not a development my parents will appreciate, but I really like the Garrisons.