Page 24 of Forever Player

“Nah, it’s totally fine,” he assures. I don’t know how much experience he has with his nephew, but the supermarket with an infant is not an easy task. I keep my mouth shut.

We finish eating and I go over Maylee’s schedule with Brett, and then I head into Nashville to go to the spa with my girls. Things are moving fast with Brett having a role in our lives. My head feels like it’s spinning, but I will take Brett’s help while he offers it because I could use a break. When it’s time for Brett to leave, I’ll deal because I always do.

CHAPTERFIVE

Brett

I enter the supermarket with Maylee strapped to my chest. She cried the whole way here and my anxiety spiked because it is not a sound I like to hear from her. Now I’ve got a shopping cart and I am walking down the first aisle. I’m a big eater and there is no way I would expect Willow’s family to feed me the next couple of weeks. I start to pile on some fruits and vegetables. Truth is, I don’t really know how to cook for myself. I have an assistant who preps my meals. I figure I’ll call Maddie later and ask her what I’m supposed to do with all this stuff. I buy enough packages of berries I think to hold me over a couple of weeks. Then I get into the dairy aisle and I grab large pints of yogurt, figuring I can have that with the berries for breakfast and it won’t involve cooking. I pass an older woman who smiles widely at me and Maylee. I grin back because I am polite. I reach for some cucumbers but before I do I pay attention to my surroundings and, shit, everyone who is shopping is watching me. Do they know who I am? I smile back but I feel confused by all the attention. I’m not sure what to do so I grab five cucumbers and leave the vegetable section. Walking over to the meat aisle doesn’t seem to solve my problem as everyone stares at me and smiles at my daughter. At the butcher counter an older guy offers to serve me, and I ask for thirty rib steaks cut one inch thick. The guy’s eyes bulge.

“Not sure we have that many,” he chortles.

“I’ll take what you have then,” I reply.

He looks down at Maylee, who is facing outward on my chest in the baby carrier, kicking out her legs. “Is that Maylee?”

“Sure is,” I reply. “Have you two met?”

“I know her mama since she was a little girl,” he explains. “I’m guessing you’re the baby daddy?”

There are three women who have stopped beside me at the meat counter and they turn their heads and watch me. What is going on here?

“I am Maylee’s father,” I confirm.

The redhead beside me whispers to the blonde next to her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the butcher says. “And I know you play for the Rangers. I’m a hockey fan but I won’t come down on you in here. Just feel free to buy your food in peace,” he says, and he gives the women beside me a look and raises his brows.

“Oh, come on, Rodney,” the redhead says. “We’ve all been curious about Maylee’s paternity.” She has the audacity to say it like he is in the wrong for telling her to mind her own business.

“That’s the problem with a small town,” the butcher, who I now know is named Rodney, says. “Everyone is all up in everyone’s business.”

“I’ll take thirty packages of chicken breasts too,” I add because I’m not sure how to order. Is it by piece or weight? These people must know Willow, and I’m guessing it was a big deal she showed up pregnant with no partner.

“Coming right up,” Rodney says with a smile.

The redhead coos at Maylee.

“Oh, her face is turning red,” she suddenly says and then she starts laughing. “I think our girl is taking care of business. I’m Bonnie, by the way. I went to high school with Willow.”

“Nice to meet you,” I respond.

I feel my daughter taking care of business because little bubbles of air hit me in the chest and the small sounds confirm she is definitely making a number two.

I look over at Rodney. “Is there a restroom where I can change a diaper?”

“Got a restroom but it doesn’t have a changing table,” Rodney says as sweat pops on my forehead. “But you can come around back to my office and use my desk.”

“Thanks a million,” I say.

I follow the older gentleman to his office. It’s a small room with a large brown desk in the center.

“I’ll clear off my papers,” he says. “You got a mat or something to put down?”

“I do. Willow pretty much stocked up this diaper bag for a week and told me that wherever Maylee goes, it goes,” I explain, and he laughs a deep hearty laugh.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” he says.

I place the mat on his desk and take Maylee out of the carrier and lay her on her back.

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