Page 24 of The Nanny Goal

“Alexei!” My mother reaches for me, but as soon as she lifts her arms, she winces.

“Don’t tax yourself,” I mutter. And then I let out a sound that’s suspiciously like a sob.

My father grabs me in a tight hug. “She’s going to be okay.”

She has to be. My parents are my rocks.

But I lean on them too much. Since Inessa’s arrival, I’ve sponsored them to emigrate and they’ve completely transformed my life from a young bachelor pro athlete to that of a family man. When I was traded, they flew across the country with my toddler. They live with us full-time, sharing in the parenting work, and fulling carrying that burden when I’m playing at home and on the road.

In return for that, I make sure they want for nothing. In the off season, I send them on incredible cruises and land trips with Russian speaking guides. I pay for them to take English classes.

But I didn’t fucking notice my mother having the warning signs of a heart attack.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to get out.

Someone behind me quietly clears their throat. I turn and find Dr. Forge standing with a hospital doctor in scrubs. She introduces herself as an ER doc and gives me a quick update on the tests they’re going to run. “I expect your mother to be admitted soon, I’m just waiting to hear where we have a bed for her. Depending on what we see, we might initially put her in the ICU...”

My mother looks…tired. Pale. But the ICU?

“She’ll be able to come home in a few days, maybe a week at the outside. But there will be rest and recovery?—”

“I have a toddler. My parents take care of her.”

The two doctors exchange a look.

Yeah, they won’t be able to do that for a while. Or maybe ever again.

CHAPTER8

EMERY

When the game resumes on the ice, without Alexei, it’s hard to focus. My parents text, letting me know they’ve gone to the hospital just in case they can be helpful there.

Which leaves me with the WAGs, feeling strangely unmoored.

“Should we go somewhere quieter?”

“That’s a good idea. Shannon, can we?—”

“Of course.”

“Emery?”

I jerk my head towards Ani, blinking. “Pardon?”

She rubs my arm. “It’s okay. Come on.”

With a start, I realize Becca and Harper are already gone, and Kiley is at the door, holding it open for the rest of us.

As if from a distance, I see myself put one foot in front of the other and follow them to the team offices. A security guard lets us in a locked door, and the noise of the arena fades away.

Shannon appears out of a supply room carrying a stack of printer paper and a variety of white board markers. “Improvised babysitting materials,” she says. “I’m not sure two-year-olds draw, though. These might be more for Charlie. Emery, can you grab that stuffed piper?”

I pick up the oversized plush bagpipe-holding boar she points at and follow her down the hall.

Becca and Harper are in a conference room with the two kids, watching carefully as Charlie helps Inessa climb onto a couch—and then immediately jumps off.

She stands on the soft cushion, as if to follow, and my heart leaps into my throat.

---