Page 4 of Falling for the Forward

Sounds innocent enough. Hallie sits down and I take the chair across from hers at the small table on one side of my kitchen.

It’s a damn good thing I bought a huge house when I got traded to Cleveland four years ago. I chose it so I could be in a secure, gated community after one of my old teammates had a crazed fan show up at his house with weapons after a game loss.

The house sat mostly empty until five weeks ago when I got a phone call telling me Rachel had passed away in her sleep from an undiagnosed heart condition at age thirty-six. She was only five years older than I am now. My aunt Rosie met me in San Diego, where we buried my sister, packed up three grieving little girls and came back here.

Aunt Rosie stayed for a week to help the girls get settled. She’s been like a second mom since my mom--her sister--died nine years ago. But unfortunately, she’s a busy tech exec in Silicon Valley who never had kids and couldn’t take on the responsibility of helping me any longer.

I’ll never know why Rachel left her daughters to me in her will. Surely she had friends who would’ve been better than me at this.

“What are you drawing, Uncle Carter?” Hallie asks me.

“This is more manifesting. It’s me holding up the championship cup at the end of the season.”

“That’s a big cup.”

“Yep. What are you drawing?”

“Mommy in heaven.”

Her small voice saying those words guts me. Rachel was a great mom and it’s so fucking unfair she won’t get to finish raising her daughters. I have perfunctoryuncle holding his baby niecephotos for each of them, but I never spent much time with them since we lived so far apart.

At least, that’s one of the excuses I gave myself every time I declined an invite to fly to San Diego for holidays or just to visit and spend time hanging out with my nieces.

It’s too far to travel. I’m too busy with hockey. I have to stay focused on my training to remain on top.

And now it’s too late. My sister will never call me again and try to sweet-talk me into coming for Thanksgiving with promises of making Mom’s oyster stuffing and pecan pie cheesecake. I’d give anything to get a call from her right now.

“Who’s that?” I ask Hallie, who’s drawing something small and brown next to the figure of Rachel with angel wings.

“A dog. Mommy and Charlotte are allergic to dogs, so we couldn’t have one, but Suki said there are no allergies in heaven, so I think Mommy plays with dogs all the time.”

This is fucking brutal. All three girls are trying to process the loss of Rachel, and not only am I hurting along with them, but I never know what to say. Even the nannies are better at comforting them than I am.

“I bet she is.”

“I’m going to draw her twenty dogs. Do you think that’s enough?”

“Yeah, I think petting twenty dogs would be enough to keep anyone pretty busy.”

I look up when I hear someone walk into the room and see ten-year-old Charlotte. Her hair makes me do a double take.Earlier, her light-brown hair hung halfway down her back and now it’s...gone.

“What the hell did you do?” The words fly out of my mouth as I take in the hatchet job on her hair. It’s cut jagged and uneven at the nape of her neck and her bangs are short, half-inch-long spikes.

She gives me an unbothered look. “I cut my hair.”

“I see that.” I stand up and walk over to her. “Did it go the way you wanted?”

She shrugs, walks over to the fridge and takes out a bottle of apple juice. “I didn’t want bangs anymore.”

I’m supposed to have an argument for that. Rachel would. But it seems logical to me. She didn’t want bangs so she cut off her bangs. And now she’s going to get teased by asshole kids at school over it. Hell, the school might even think this is somehow my fault. That’s the last thing I need as I’m trying to expedite the adoption process.

“Have you looked in a mirror?” I demand.

“Charlotte, no!” I’ve never seen the oldest of the girls, twelve-year-old Olivia, react so forcefully to anything. “What did you do?”

Olivia’s eyes fill with tears as she walks into the kitchen and sees her sister’s hair.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Charlotte says with an edge.

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