Page 141 of Daddies on Ice
“Just take care of that girl. She’s been through enough.”
As I drive home, my thoughts drift to the conversation I need to have with Trisha.
I asked her to come over tonight, and I know she’s nervous.
Hell, I’m nervous too. But there are things that need to be said, decisions that need to be made.
The house feels too quiet when I walk in. Krystal’s at a sleepover, which is perfect timing. This conversation needs to happen without little ears around.
I’ve been thinking about Krystal a lot these past few days. About the adoption papers I filed last month when I got the all-clear from my oncologist.
No cancer. Just a scare that made me realize how precious time really is.
My daughter’s been in and out of rehab for two years now, showing no signs of wanting to be a mother to her own child.
Krystal deserves stability, deserves someone who’ll be there for her unconditionally.
Just like this new baby will.
The doorbell rings at exactly seven, and my pulse kicks up a notch.
When I open the door, Trisha stands there looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
She’s wearing a simple blue sweater that brings out her eyes, and her long black hair is pulled back in a ponytail.
She looks young and vulnerable, and something in my chest tightens.
“Come in,” I say, stepping aside. “Can I get you something? Tea? Water?”
“Water would be good.” Her voice is soft, uncertain.
I lead her to the living room, noting how she perches on the edge of the couch like she might bolt at any second.
When I hand her the glass, our fingers brush, and I feel that familiar spark of electricity.
“First, I have some good news,” I begin, settling into the chair across from her. “Mica’s been arrested.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“The police searched his place today. They found evidence that he’s been stalking you—photos, surveillance equipment, the works. They also found the team equipment that went missing on our road trips.”
The glass trembles in her hands. “He’s been…all this time…”
“He’s going back to prison, Trisha. For a long time. He can’t hurt you or Rebecca anymore.”
Tears well up in her eyes, and she sets the water down with shaking hands. “I can’t believe it’s over.”
“It is.” I want to go to her, to pull her into my arms and promise her that everything will be okay, but I force myself to stay put. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
She looks up at me, those dark blue eyes so expressive I can read every emotion flickering through them.
“I filed adoption papers for Krystal last month. My daughter…” I run a hand through my hair. “She’s not getting better, Trisha. She doesn’t want to be a mother, and Krystal needs stability. She needs someone who’ll be there for her.”
“That’s wonderful, Carl. You’re a good grandfather. A good father.”
The way she says it, with such conviction, makes something warm unfurl in my chest. “Which brings me to what we really need to talk about.”
Her posture stiffens, and I can see her walls going up. But I press on.
