Page 46 of Three Pucking Words
“Got what?”
“You always look that way when you think about Inez,” he states, taking a sip of his drink.
I reposition Beckham on my good shoulder now that he’s dead weight on me. “I feel like an asshole being irritated with her about missing Gemma when she was this little since she isn’t here. And that makes me wish I could—”
“Don’t,” Sebastian says firmly, pinning me with one of his rare serious expressions. “Don’t go down that road, because I know what you’re going to say. You can’t trade places with her, man. I know you want to. I know you think Inez could be a better parent than you. But that’s not true. You love Gemma so much and look how happy she is. You’re agreatdad.”
It isn’t that I think I’m a bad father. IknowI’m a good one. But Inez was born to be a mother. She had every maternal bone and instinct in her body that suited her for the role. Me, onthe hand, not so much. I’d never thought that hard about kids because hockey was all my mind focused on.
How to win.
How to improve.
How to be the best right-winger the NHL had.
When Inez told me she was pregnant, it felt like my world came crashing down. She and I weren’t serious—not to me anyway. Sure, she spent a lot of time at my place, but we didn’t live together. I’m not even sure we’d had the “exclusive” talk at that point. I’m pretty sure the first words out of my mouth when she told me were, “Is it mine?”
To which she stormed out of my condo with her middle finger up in the air before slamming the door. In all fairness, I’d tried calling her multiple times after that. She never got back to me until my agent dropped off an envelope with DNA results from the paternity test that he and my manager told me to request that was a ninety-nine-point-nine percent match to me, as well as a card that had “congratulations” on the front of it with “you’re the father asshole” written in Inez’s handwriting on the inside.
It was a well-deserved punch to the nuts.
I wish I grew up knowing I was going to be a husband and father someday, but I didn’t. It wasn’t until finally holding Gemma for the first time, almost two months after her birth because Inez and her family didn’t want me around, that something clicked inside me.
From that day on, I’d loved that little girl unconditionally. Hell. I think I loved her from the first ultrasound picture. She was the first true love of my life. My best friend. A part of me.
“My only wish is that her mother was here” is what I settle on, knowing Sebastian will chide me if I say anything else. “She deserves to have a maternal figure in her life other than her grandma.”
Gemma sees my family on the holidays but isn’t nearly as close with my parents as Inez’s. It’s unfortunate, but it is what it is. Unlike Joe and Helen, my parents couldn’t afford to move up because of the small greenhouse business they run in Vermont. They have roots there and declined my offer to buy them something in New York when I offered to bring them to be closer.
“You’ve got your own life there, son,” Dad tells me. “We’ve got ours here. We’ll still watch your games and root you on.”
My family has always been on the unconventional side. From the outside looking in, people would see them as one-with-nature types. Hippies, I guess. They’re laidback and humble. Smoke a little too much weed sometimes. They never travel, unless it is to local farmer’s market. But they’re good people. Quiet. Keep to themselves. They know everybody in town and send Christmas cards to regulars who come to the greenhouse. I just don’t see them much as I’d like. But it is what it is.
I chose a career that took me out of Vermont, which is exactly what I wanted. They support that. They watch my games. They send me invites for Thanksgiving and Christmas. And when I’m not working on those holidays, I try my best to go.
When I was going through hell trying to figure out my situation with Gemma, they had my back and told me it would all work out. Inez and her family lived not far from mine growing up, which is inevitably how we connected years down the road. She was at a game and brought up the Green Mountain State, and we bonded over beer and childhood memories. My parents didn’t love what Inez and her folks were putting me through, but they understood why it was a difficult situation for everybody involved. I leaned on them during that time and appreciated their support.
It was better than nothing.
“You good?” Sebastia asks, nudging me out of my thoughts. “You spaced.”
I brush off the homesick feeling. “I’m fine. I was thinking about my family, that’s all.”
“When was the last time you saw them?”
I think about it. “New Years, maybe? Before that, it wasn’t since I settled things with Joe and Helen over Gemma and we all agreed on a gameplan that worked best for her.”
He nods in understanding. “Maybe you and Gem should take a trip on bye week then.”
It’s not a bad idea, and I doubt Joe and Helen would mind since they prefer Vermont to New York three times over. “That’s not a bad idea,” I admit.
A small smirk curls the sides of Sebastian’s lips, telling me he’s about to say something stupid. “If you’re looking for a maternal figure in her life, it seems like Honor could fill that role. Gemma has been telling me all about her dog.”
Of course she has. Last night, she handed me a list of all the reasons we should get a dog. Most of the reasons involved cuddling and playing with one. Very little of the list consisted of the time and energy it would take to train and care for one. Not that I expected my six-year-old to think about it logically, but still. “Liking someone’s dog isn’t exactly the deciding factor on who Imightconsider having in our lives.”
“Sure,” he agrees. “But considering you spent at least five straight minutes staring at her ass today while she was talking to her dad, I’d say there’s attraction too. That’s important.”
This is starting to remind me of the conversation I had with Honor. I never thought calling someone cute could be considered a bad thing. If I was honest with her, I did find her sexy. Especially when she’s wearing something that shows off her round hips that I want nothing more than to grab onto. Butbeyond the body that I’m one hundred percent attracted to is her personality. Honor has a story to tell, and I’m a willing listener.
