Page 74 of His Jersey

“Leah said I’ll need these in Nebraska.”

I love hearing those words and sling my arm across her shoulders as we walk toward the park. It’s well lit and I sometimes jog here at night—mostly to avoid being recognized. I’ve also ignored the social and sports media feeding frenzy about the game and my announcement earlier that I’m joining the Knights.

I like that Ella is interested in my career, but also outside of it because with her, I feel like I have a real life that’s not solely quantified by being a billionaire’s son or hockey superstar.

I can be me.

But I want to know more about her. “What did you want todo before becoming a housekeeper? A pro softball player? A hotel tycoon?” I lean in and add, “I highly recommend athletics and hospitality.”

Ella laughs. “I wanted to be a housewife.”

I stagger because I wasn’t expecting that answer. “I imagine there are women out there hissing at you right now.”

She shrugs. “The times when Mom was home from work, whether we were folding laundry together, making a meal, playing Scrabble, whatever it was, she tried hard to make a good home for us, for our little family. All I ever wanted was for those moments to lengthen. For hours to become days. The three of us doing life together—the mundane, the silly, the beautiful. All of it. I always wanted a family. To take care of people. I guess, in a way, I find dignity in the quiet work of making someone’s bed so it’s fresh for them when they lie down after a long day of … well, lounging on the beach at the resort, but you know what I mean.”

“But you have a degree.”

“Life doesn’t care about that, Jack,” Ella says as if resigned to the fact that her dreams slipped away.

I ask, “How do you feel about having a housekeeper? Carlos is interviewing them starting on Monday.”

She shakes her head. “No. You’ve got me.”

I cannot deny how happy that makes me to hear, even if it’s not exactly what she means. I want to give this woman the world. “But if you could do anything, career-wise, what would it be?”

“Besides being a housewife and having a family? Maybe operate a bed-and-breakfast, after all, I did study hospitality in college. Originally, my focus was on the big resorts and upscale hotel chains because that’s where the money is, but I think now I’d like my own place.”

“What would you call it?”

“Depends on the location and building. If it were upscale and modern, maybe The Bespoke Bedpost or if it was quaint and charming, The Blueberry Bramble B&B.”

“Clever.”

“What about you? Did young Jack always want to play hockey?”

“No. I did it to spite my father. He wanted me to play polo. But my mother is from Canada and Dad’s parents are—they met while he summered in Quebec. Hockey up there is like their national dish, bird, song, you name it, all rolled into one. When I expressed interest, she thought it was novel and was in support of it. True to Bouchelle form, we went all in. Turns out I was good. Must’ve been in the genes.”

“Your father approved?”

“Going up against him is like having a knife fight in a phone booth. He hated it but loved Mom, so he never said no to her. So what could he do?” I let out a breath, then add, “Since there were no siblings, the pressure was all on me to perform, so I pushed myself to rise to the top.”

“How is it up there?” Ella asks, peering up at me.

The emptiness that I’ve occasionally felt lately is strangely, surprisingly absent. Not so lonely now that she’s part of my life.

Deflecting emotion, I say, “Ha ha. I’ve heard all the jokes about being tall. I assure you the weather is the same. But it’s better with company. Carlos and Leah come from a big family. There are four Smith children. Three girls. One Carlos.”

Ella says, “I want to have ten kids and a dog.”

“Ten?”

Counting off her fingers, she says, “Maude, Clair, Amelia, Violet, Julia, James, Miles, Ethan, Archie, and Isaac.”

I laugh and gently poke her in the side.

She pulls a face at me with an adorable little shake of her head. “I’m not kidding.”

“Ten,” I repeat. “What about five?”

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