Page 33 of Taking The Shot

“I’m sorry they painted over the Mario stuff,” Keith was saying, his voice steady yet tinged with something careful, as if he were treading lightly. “But I hope you like this. If you don’t, all you have to do is tell me what you want, and we’ll figure it out.”

“This is… for me?” Paige’s voice was laced with skepticism, disbelief hanging in the air between them.

“Yeah,” Keith answered, and Constance could hear the smile in his voice. “My cool new daughter needs a wicked room, you know? It’s bragging rights on the ice…”

“I can’t believe this.”

Constance peered inside, her heart squeezing at the sight of her eldest standing in the middle of the room, eyes wide as she took in her new space. It wasn’t just a bedroom—it was an experience. A hockey-themed sanctuary with a sleek new bed and custom wall art that screamed personality. It was undeniably cool, and the fact that Keith had thought to put this together for her daughter… it was overwhelming.

“Look, I don’t mind you calling me Keith—and I think it’s cool that you want to learn hockey, but no one is forcing you to like it,” Keith continued, his tone easy, patient. “If you’d prefer something else, that’s fine with me… but I thought this would be neat to show you what itcouldlook like in here.”

Paige was silent for a beat, processing, before she finally relented. “I like it… a lot—and I can’t believeyouthought of this,” she said, though her tone was just shy of snide. Constance pressed a hand over her mouth, smothering her laugh. Herdaughter had perfected the art of sarcasm, and she wasn’t holding back now.

“Yeah, well, I wish I could take credit for it,” Keith admitted, “but my friend Kenneth suggested it. His son, Zachary, is five and really little, so they have a net in place to keep him from falling out of his bed—but you’re much older and don’t need that. But it still has a certain ‘cool’ factor, doesn’t it?”

Paige huffed. “As much as I hate to admit it… itiscool.”

Keith grinned. “Then that works for me.”

“Aren’t you expecting me to say ‘thank you’?” Paige asked eyebrow arched.

Keith just chuckled. “No, because you’re part of my family now, and I want you to be happy here. If you want to say thank you, that’s up to you, but it doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re an incredible kid.”

Constance’s throat tightened at his words. He meant it. Every single one of them said effortlessly to the little girl. Paige hesitated, her walls cracking, though her stubborn daughter refused to let them crumble completely.

“The team sent you a Wolverines jersey, too,” Keith added, holding it up for her to see. “With my number on it—because our family is number one.”

To Constance’s utter disbelief, Paige laughed.

A real, genuine laugh.

“You’re a dork,” Paige quipped, arms crossing. “But anokaydork, I guess.”

“I’ll take it,” Keith replied, clearly pleased. “I’ll send your mom in to tuck you in.”

As he stepped into the hallway, he nearly ran into Constance, who had been standing there the whole time, silently witnessing the moment unfold. Her heart swelled in her chest, full and aching.

“You’re up, Mama Bear…” he said softly, touching her hand, his fingers brushing against hers. “I’ll meet ya’ in the living room.”

Her heart wobbled precariously in her chest as she looked at Paige, who was watching them with a sharp eye. Stepping into the room, she saw that there was a goalie mask on the ceiling fan protecting the lights, a stick and a puck hanging from the chains, and two hockey sticks mounted on the walls as decoration. The room was painted cream-colored with blue and red bold stripes, reminding her of his uniform accents. Keeping it a cream color made sure it wasn’t overwhelming, and all the hockey stuff stood out. There was even a license plate over the door that said ‘Wolverines’ on it – and one over the closet door that said ‘Paige’. It was such a thoughtful room – from a guy who simply wanted to make them feel welcome.

“Do you like it?” she asked softly, whispering to her daughter to keep the conversation between them. “It seems like he put a lot of thought into making this room special for you.”

“Yeah… it’s nice,” Paige hesitated. “Mom, he’s nice sometimes, even if he can be weird – but he’s not Daddy.”

“No, he’s not – and he never will be,” Constance said softly, tucking a curl behind her daughter’s ear. “No one can replace your dad, but there is no reason that Keith can’t be your friend… and I think that is all he is hoping for.”

“I hope so because I don’t think I can call him ‘daddy’…”

“He never asked you to either – did he?”

“No.”

“Then focus on being happy and don’t worry about things like that when it’s not even a problem. If you are happy calling him Keith – and Keith is happy with it, then that is all that matters, right?”

“Are you sure?”

“Honey, I’m positive. There are all sorts of names in this world and they fit all sorts of people differently. Can you imagine calling me Janet when Constance is my name?”

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