Page 2 of Stick Move

She goes quiet, like she’s deep in thought, and a moment later we’re dropping down onto a bench. “Is your mother still going to watch Camryn?”

My heart thumps. Christ, I know Sparrow Springs is a small town outside of Boston, and word spreads fast, but Mom was just diagnosed with early onset dementia last week. Julie can’t know about that, can she? Although she is a hair stylist, and rumors spread in her salon faster than a brushfire in the heat of August.

Before I can answer, she shuffles closer and takes my hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, Noah. I’m here if you need anything. In fact, on my days off, I can take Camryn. I have a great backyard. If you’d just bring Camryn over, you could see for yourself.”

Jesus, I really hope she’s talking about the space behind her house and not… Camryn squeals in delight and my thoughts shift as she flies down the slide, dust punching in the air as her feet hit the soft, dry ground. She loves playing at Mom and Dad’s place, as they too have a great backyard. I want a place like that for her, and as she grows up, it’s clear I really need to get her out of the city and apartment living.

“I’m looking for something a little more permanent. Camryn needs stability in her life.”

She reaches into her big tote bag and pulls out a designer water bottle. “The offer is on the table, if you’re in a pinch.”

“Julie, Noah. Hey, how’s it going?” Gemma, one of the other mothers who frequents the playground, and another girl I’ve known all my life, calls out as she hurries our way. Her daughter Olivia runs to play with Camryn and Becky as Gemma drops down onto the other side of the bench, and I find myself sandwiched between the two women.

Most guys would probably enjoy the position, and in my younger years, I probably would have too. Now I have more important things to think about. Like how I’m going to find good childcare for my daughter for the upcoming NHL season.

Fuck me.

I stare off across the street, catching sight of a very familiar woman heading into the town’s real estate office, and when Gemma follows my gaze, she leans in. “Have you heard?”

“Heard what?” I ask as Brighton White—the girl from the high school clique that picked on me—stands before the door, waving her hands in the air, like she’s trying to get the automatic sensor to recognize she’s outside. It finally opens and she disappears inside the building.

Bright white.

That’s how I used to think of her. Blonde hair that was always shiny, and a smile that dazzled all the boys. I’d heard through the grapevine that she’d recently lost her father. That can’t be easy, especially since her mother was never in the picture. From what I understand, when Brighton was just a kid, her mom ran off with some sheik who’d been staying at the resort, but who knows if that’s true. Still, she now has no one and that’s fucking sad.

“She owns White Sand Resort,” Gemma points out.

Julie’s hand lands on my knee, giving a little squeeze as she leans over to talk to Gemma. “No surprise there. I assumed her father would leave it to her in his will. She’s an only child with no mother, so it’s all hers.”

“Yeah, but did you hear that her father ran the place into the ground before he died? Gambling. He took out tons of loans. No one had any idea, and now lenders are looking to repossess.” I catch the revengeful gleam in her eyes. Did Brighton pick on her in high school too? “She has to sell to cover the debt.” She shakes her head, but there’s no sorrow in her eyes. I glance across the street to where I’d spotted Brighton as Gemma snaps her fingers and continues, “She’s going to be out on her ass.”

My gaze flies back to Gemma, my heart stalling. She’s going to be out on her ass? “Are you serious?”

“As serious as your goal that won the cup last season.” She nudges me.

“That…” I shake my head, distraught at the idea of anyone being out on their ass. “That’s not…”

Gemma flips her long dark hair from her shoulders as her gaze rakes over my face. “I thought you’d be happy about all this.”

“I should be happy that she’s in debt?” Christ, these women don’t know me at all. Not a surprise, really. I don’t let anyone in, so it’s not their fault. But to believe Brighton’s misery and loss would make me happy? That’s extreme.

“She and her friends were so cruel in high school, Noah.” Gemma makes a tsking sound. “She deserves what she gets, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I whisper under my breath. The thoughts of anyone out on the street doesn’t sit well with me.

Gemma gives a humorless chuckle. “Funny, isn’t it.”

“What’s funny?” I ask Gemma.

“I just mean back in high school, you know. We were the kids from the wrong side of the tracks, but our district was close enough to the boundary lines that we went through the Sparrow Springs school system. Brighton was the rich bitch who looked down her nose at us. Now look at you and Brighton.” She snorts out a laugh. “Talk about a complete role reversal.”

Julie squeezes my leg…again. “You showed her.”

I hadn’t set out to show anyone anything, other than my parents. They worked hard and put every extra penny toward hockey. Nothing about Brighton White and her privileged life motivated me. Honestly, I never gave her a second thought after high school. Much.

Gemma makes a tsking sound. “It must have been awful for you, having to work for her family in high school.”

“Poor you,” Julie adds. She aims a look laced with pity my way, but I don’t regret working at the resort. I didn’t much like the way Brighton would watch me at times, a sneer on her face. At least, I think it was a sneer. As the resort’s entertainment coordinator, she was always in the pool or the tennis court, running activities with the kids while their parents drank too much at one of the many bars. From what I remember, Brighton was good with the kids, so maybe she’s not so awful after all.

---