Page 25 of The Cutting Edge
“I’m pretty sure I’m THE pancake Davinci,” he grins.
Surveying the drawing, I say, “This was so sweet of Poppy to make this for me. What is she up to tonight?” I ask, digging into the lobster mac and cheese. Popping a small bite in my mouth, I’m enamored with the creamy, rich decadence.
Logan takes a bite, too. “So good, right? It’s my favorite thing on the menu.” I nod in agreement because my mouth is too full savoring all that buttery goodness to answer properly. This is a far cry from the protein bars, steamed broccoli, and broiled chicken breast I usually eat over my kitchen sink before I pass out at night, only to get up at the crack of dawn and do it all again.
“Poppy’s with Rosie, our nanny,” he says. “Poppy was absolutely insistent that I come and see you in the hospital. She wanted to come too, but her class has a field trip to the zoo tomorrow and we agreed she needed an early night. Plus, I thought they were planning on discharging you today and I wanted to make sure you got home okay if you’d let me.”
“Do you have Poppy with you every day? Or does she stay with her mom sometimes too?” I tread carefully here. I’m genuinely curious, but also hyper-aware that I might sound like I’m trying to pry out of him whether or nothe’ssingle. Which will cancel out my ability to give him crap about doing the same thing to me. So obviously, I can’t let that happen.
Although, if I’m being honest, Imight bejust ateensy bitcurious if he’s seeing anyone. I mean, he did ask me first, so I assume he isn’t. But I’d really like confirmation. You know, just in case I’m completely misreading this entire scenario and he’s just being nice to me because he accidentally smacked me in the head with a hockey puck.
His smile darkens a little as he takes another bite of the lobster mac and cheese. “Poppy’s mom and dad passed away almost six years ago. He was my… brother. They died in a car accident bringing Poppy home from the hospital. I…Poppy was ejected from the crash in her infant car seat in the collision, with barely a scratch on her.”
“That’s such a heartbreak. How old were you when it happened?”
“22.”
“So young.”
“Yeah, My mom was fighting breast cancer at the time and we weren’t sure if she was going to make it. I’d just been drafted by the NHL, and suddenly…” his voice trails off. He pauses a second, as though he’s gathering his thoughts. “...And suddenly I was a dad. A very stupid, completely unprepared, dad to an infant.”
“I’m so sorry, Logan.”
“No need. Originally the plan was for it to be temporary, just until my mom got through chemo and the family could figure out the best way forward. But honestly, it was only a couple of days before I realized that Poppy was the best thing that ever happened to me, and that it would be an honor to raise her. Ready or not.”
I’m holding back tears now. “And your mom?”
“Toughest years of my life when she was sick, but she’s been cancer-free for almost four years. She’s the strongest person I know. Poppy takes after her.”
“What a challenging situation for everybody – it must be very hard. That poor baby. Poor you, losing your brother and gaining a baby so young. Heartbreak all around."
“It was rough. But it’s also all that Poppy has ever known. It’s always been Poppy and me, and we’re okay with that. Her nanny Rosie’s been with us since Poppy was born. My parents and my younger sisters could not possibly spoil her more. And Poppy has about 30 oversized “uncles” who would kill or die for her. She’s doing alright.”
“Is it tough to be a single parent?”
“Sometimes, I think it would be nice to have someone else there to share the load, especially when you’ve had a bad day or a long day and it’s really tough to muster the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for a macaroni necklace. Or when you’re sick, but Dad duty still starts at the crack of 6 am. But I earn a great living, and all of this is a whole lot easier to do with money. When Poppy was a baby, we were mid-season, in the running with the playoffs, and I absolutely could not miss sleep. I had round-the-clock help – plus, for enough cash, you can get pretty much anything delivered at 2 am... Formula, diapers, a doorway jumper, even that lavender baby stuff that’s supposed to make them fall asleep. There are a lot of single parents who don’t have that luxury. The fact that I have full-time help is a lifesaver. I can’t even imagine trying to do this all on my own while working a low-paying job, or multiple jobs, just to put food on the table. Child care should be universally available and free, if you ask me.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask what a doorway jumper is,” I laugh.
“Oh, you should be,” he cracks. “Man, if they made those in my size…”
“Totally agree with you on universal child care. My friend Allie is a single parent of two, and I think about 90% of her money and overall stressors are related to childcare, juggling work and childcare, or trying to find emergency child care.”
“That’s rough,” he says. He snaps his lobster cracker twice with his left hand. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to dig into this bad boy.”
I grab my own lobster shell cracker off the table, “I’m ready.”
“I’m no goalie, but I’ve got you covered if you decide to pull aPretty Womanand send your dinner flying across the room.”
“I appreciate the backup,” I say, “but I think I’ve got it handled. I’ve lived in Florida my whole life, and I certainly know my way around a plate of shellfish.”
“Okay, but just so you know, I’ve always secretly wanted to catch a flying lobster.” He makes snapping pincher claws with his fingers again, to illustrate the point.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I laugh, as I deftly twist off the lobster tail, carefully removing the meat. Logan follows suit and twists the tail off his own mammoth lobster.
I spear a small piece with my fork, and dip it into the butter before popping it into my mouth. It’s mouth-wateringly velvety, cooked to perfection. Now that I think of it, there’s a real possibility I mayhavedied on the side of that ice rink last night and gone to heaven.
“Um, you’ve got a little butter on your…” says Logan.
