Twenty-One

  Bronwyn

  The curtains were blowing in the wind when I woke up from my nap. I groaned as I pushed myself into a sitting position and stretched my hands over my head. Something felt weird on my back, and I contorted my arm to reach behind me and felt the paper from the letter I had started to write to my parents. I peeled it off my sweaty skin and squinted out the window. The sun was shining brightly, and the lake sparkled in the distance.

  “Lisa?” I walked to the air conditioner thermostat and tapped it. “Is this thing working?”

  Lisa appeared beside me; a tea towel draped over her shoulder. I just turned the temperature down, it’s a scorcher out there today.”

  “How long was I sleeping?”

  “About four hours,” Lisa yelled as she returned to the kitchen. “You missed lunch.”

  My stomach growled and I followed her to the kitchen. “Is the salad still good?”

  She laughed. “It is. I didn’t put the dressing on it yet.” Lisa took the salad from the refrigerator and sliced a barbecued chicken breast to put on top.

  “Thank you.” I dug in. “I can’t believe I slept for so long.”

  Lisa pointed to my belly. “You are making a human in there.”

  “I suppose that takes some energy, doesn’t it?” I crunched a fork full of greens into my mouth.

  Lisa sat on the barstool beside me. “Bronwyn, have you done any research into this pregnancy? What kind of birth do you want to have? Are you taking the right vitamins?”

  I set down the fork and smoothed the linen napkin on my lap. “I was going to buy a book online. I just kind of, I don’t know Lisa. This isn’t how I wanted things to go.”

  “If everyone waited until they were ready, nobody would have a baby.” She took her phone out of her pocket and typed something into the browser. “At least, that’s the quote that makes everyone feel better about it.” She turned the phone toward me so I could see the bookstore app and a pregnancy book. “This is your first present. I’ll get it sent to my house.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Lisa.”

  Lisa pushed at the screen of her phone and then set it down. “Already done.”

  My phone chimed and I picked it up. “It’s a message from Dylan.” I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.

  “Oh,” I whispered as I read the message.

  “What is it?” Lisa asked.

  Disappointment flooded my body. “He can’t go fishing tonight. He’s busy.”

  “Good. You need some rest.” Lisa patted my leg. “Don’t read into it, Bronwyn. He’s probably…” she paused. “Busy.”

  “You’re right.” I put the phone down, but there was a sinking feeling in my stomach that I couldn’t explain. My intuition was telling me that something was wrong. “I’m heading out for a little bit.”

  Lisa raised her eyebrows at me.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not doing something stupid.” I shoved my phone into my purse and grabbed a tube of lipstick from the bathroom. Dylan was off work at five. I could catch him right when he was done and tell him about the baby. It felt urgent. I couldn’t keep the secret for one more second.

  My grandmother’s dockhand was polishing Calliope and waved at me as I rushed into the boathouse. “Hi, Eddie,” I shouted over the sound of the waves lapping in the boathouse.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Yates.” Eddie paused his polishing to stand. “Do you need me to get your boat ready?”

  I glanced at my runabout, it was sitting in the lift, but the Boston Whaler was floating in the water beside her. “I’ll take the Whaler.” I pointed to the boat that was ready to go.

  “Are you sure, Miss? It will only take a couple of minutes to get yours ready.” He had walked to the lift beside my royal blue boat.

  “No, I’m in a rush, Eddie. I have to go now.” My voice was a lot more panicky than I’d expected.

  “Of course, Miss Yates.” Eddie took the keys for the Whaler from the safe by the door and handed them to me. “I’ll get the lines.”

  “Thank you, Eddie.” I hopped into the boat and my heart soared when she started right away. The Whaler was a plain white boat with no bells and whistles, but she was sturdy and fast – exactly what I needed. I reversed out of the boathouse and when I was clear of the docks, I pushed down the throttle. My hair whipped my cheeks as I ran the Whaler at top speed down the middle of Lake Casper. Luckily, it was a calm day and there wasn’t much boat traffic and I pulled into the marina at five minutes to five.

  “Hello, Miss Yates.” Sam tied the lines and helped me from the boat.

  “Fill her up please, Sam.”

  The young man nodded. I didn’t know if the boat needed gas, it was highly unlikely as Eddie kept the fleet topped up with fuel at all times, but it was a good excuse to be at the marina. “I’ll be in the shop.” I smiled at Sam and rushed to the big blue building, knowing that my life was about to change.

  Twenty-Two

  Dylan

  It was so humid that the first coat of varnish hadn’t dried. “Dammit,” I whispered under my breath. I was hoping to get the second coat on that evening.

  The atmosphere in the garage that afternoon had been strained. Mike and Luke avoided me, and so did the rest of the guys. It suited me just fine, I needed to get work done, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone – so I stewed. As it got hotter, as the sun rose higher in the sky, baking the metal building, I stewed even harder.

  The phone call from Mrs. Yates had weighed heavily on me like I had been wearing lead shoulder pads all day long. Could it be true? Was Bronwyn pregnant? Is that why she didn’t want to sleep with me? Could the baby be mine? As the marina heated up with the afternoon sun, my mind had gone to darker places. Was she trying to pin this baby on me? That didn’t make sense, but nothing else made sense either.

  Floyd and Thelma were holding hands as they left for the day. “See you, Dylan.” Floyd waved.

  “Bye,” I shouted. I would’ve made a joke about white-haired love birds, but I didn’t feel like joking.

  With everyone gone, I plugged my phone into the sound system and turned on some Metallica. I needed something loud and angry. I knew that avoiding Bronwyn wasn’t the mature thing to do, I should’ve marched over to the Yates Estate and demanded to know the truth – but I had to calm down first. I had to get my mind straight before I did that. I planned to work on the boat and then get Andy to let me into the rink. The best therapy was puck therapy – and nothing got frustration out of a body like cold air, skating fast, and slap shots.

  The bell to the store rang and I groaned. Typical. Some entitled cottager coming in just as we were closing. Probably to get ice for martinis or some shit like that. I would let Sam deal with it.

  I rolled under the boat on a dolly and ran the sandpaper along any sections that didn’t look absolutely perfect. As I took out my anger sanding, a pair of manicured toes in expensive-looking sandals approached.

  “We’re closed,” I grumbled as loud as I could.

  The pedicured foot nudged my work boot. I slid out from under the boat and my angry heart softened a little when my eyes met hers.

  “Sam is filling up the boat. I thought I would come in and say hi.” She reached her hand to help me up from my position on the dolly.

  “Hi.” I ignored her hand and rolled back under the boat.

  She stood there for what felt like a minute but was probably about ten seconds. “I guess I’ll go then.” She turned and started to walk away.

  I took a deep breath and pushed out from under the boat hard enough that the wheeled dolly caught up with her. “Sorry. Long day.” I hopped up and kicked the dolly towards the boat.

  Bronwyn reached to hug me, but I pushed her back by her hips. “I’m all sweaty.” It was the truth, I was covered in sweat, sawdust, and oil – but that wasn’t the reason I didn’t want to hug her.

  “I don’t care.” She smiled and reached her arms for me.

  I took a step back. “I do care.” I walked back to the boat. “I’m trying to get this done tonight. Thanks for the visit.” I didn’t want to meet her eyes.

  “Dylan.”

  I had to look at her. She was stunning.

  “Could you turn down the music a little?” she shouted and pointed to the speaker.

  I turned it off completely and then it was just the two of us in the silence. I rubbed the dry section of the boat with a chamois and tried to keep my hands busy. All I wanted to do was scoop her up in my arms, to feel her lips on mine – but she had lied to me.

  “Is everything okay with us?” She came around the boat, so she was standing directly next to me.

  I kept polishing. “I don’t know. Is it?”

  “Why are you being an asshole?” Her voice was lower.

  She was the fourth person to confront me that day, and I guess I was at the end of my rope. “An asshole?” I growled. “I could ask you the same question.

  “What?” She took a step away from me.

  “Yeah.” I crossed my arms across my chest. “You know, Bronwyn, there are a lot of rumors about you and your family – and…” I hacked out a laugh. “I defended you. You might be a lot of things, Bron. But I didn’t think that you were a liar.”

  Her bottom lip started to quiver. “A liar? Dylan, what are you talking about?”

  “Are you, or are you not pregnant?”

  Her face went white. “Dylan.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she reached for my hand. “I meant to tell you.”

  “It’s true then. Why didn’t you tell me? You were just going to have fun with your little white trash boyfriend? Is this why it was a big secret?” The pieces started to fall into place and my voice got louder. “You weren’t protecting me, were you, Bron? This wasn’t about hiding me and my background from the paparazzi. It was about protecting you.”

  The anger that had been simmering all day boiled over. I shook my head and couldn’t look at her. “After everything we’ve been through, you hid something from me.”

  She kicked at the concrete floor with the toe of her sandal. “I had to wait for the right time, Dylan.”

  “The right time,” I scoffed. “If you weren’t using me, you would’ve told me.”

  Tears were streaming down her face, and I hated the fact that I was yelling, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Whose is it, Bron? Mine? One of your other boy toys?” Just the idea of it made me want to punch a hole in a wall. “If it were mine, you would’ve told me,” I added. “It wouldn’t make sense to keep that secret from the father.” Over Bronwyn’s shoulder, I could see my reflection in the mirror and my face was as red as a navigational marker.

  She swiped at the tears on her face and stormed to the door. “You’re a lot of things too, Dylan.” She shook her finger at me. “But I didn’t think that you were a complete and utter asshole.” A gust of wind blew her hair as she opened the door. “And don’t worry. The baby isn’t yours.”

  Twenty-Three

  Dylan

  The next night, Coach walked into the dressing room, and we collectively held our breath. I knew Coach better than most guys on the team and I could usually read him like a playbook, but after tying up game two in the series, I couldn’t tell what he was feeling.

  Coach Covington whispered something to Leo who nodded and started drawing up a play on the whiteboard.

  “Come in close, guys.” Coach waved for us to meet him in the center of the room.

  I looked at Mike and he wrinkled his brow at me. We both shrugged and joined the rest of the team in a huddle around our coach.

  “That was a great two periods.” Coach was speaking so quietly that we all had to take a step in to hear him.

  “Mike, great assist. Jasper, perfect slapshot…” As Coach praised all the guys who had scored or done something decent in the first two periods, I kind of zoned out. Usually, intense emotion made me play better, but since I found out about Bronwyn’s deception, I couldn’t channel all that anger into a goal. The intense sexual buildup that had fueled my strides… hell, it was gone.

  “Moss,” Coach shouted, and I snapped my eyes to him. “Did I interrupt your little daydream? Were you imagining scoring a goal? Were you imagining actually completing a play?”

  “Sorry, Coach.” I was blowing it.

  The rest of the pep talk went by in a blur and the team seemed pumped to get out and play, but my heart wasn’t in it.

  And I wasn’t the only one who could tell. Jasper was playing like there were National League scouts in the box seats because there were. He scored the winning goal with one minute to spare. My feet were cold inside my skates and had practically fallen asleep. Coach had benched me for the entire last period, and I didn’t feel like celebrating.

  “Come on, Moss.” Mike slapped my back as he hopped over the boards. I followed him and joined the rest of the guys at center ice as they celebrated the win. After shaking hands with the disgraced National League team, I followed my team to the dressing room.

  “Hey, Mike.” I grabbed the sleeve of his jersey before we went into the dressing room. “Do you mind making the team speech?” As captain, I usually said a few words after each game, but as the assistant, Mike could do it too.

  “Sure, Captain.” Mike pressed his lips into a line and nodded, but before he went in, he turned to me. “What happened to you out there?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. My head’s not in the right place.”

  “Dylan.” He grabbed the back of my head so hard it made me wince. “Get your fucking head in the game.” And he turned and pulled the door open so hard it banged against the concrete wall.

  The Brew Pub was standing room only. Fans were lined down the sidewalk hoping for a chance to mingle with the Otters and some of the National League guys. A pitcher of beer sat in the middle of the table and my mouth was salivating.

  I hadn’t officially quit drinking, I just hadn’t drunk in a long time and I was pretty sure that I could have just one. As I poured a glass of beer from the pitcher, I caught Leo watching me. He narrowed his lips but returned to the conversation beside him. Sweat beaded on the outside of the glass and I sat mesmerized, watching the bubbles rise from the bottom.

  “Dylan.” Leo slid into the chair beside me.

  I groaned. “Hi, drink police. It’s just one.”

  “I know, buddy.” He smiled. “But I have a better offer for you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I chuckled. “What’s that?”

  “Come with me.” Leo slid the beer away from me. My instinct was to reach for the glass and slam the hoppy beverage down as fast as I could – that’s when I knew that it wouldn’t have been ‘just one.’ But what did it matter? I looked at my friend and assistant coach and then at the glass of beer. I could be just like all the other guys in town. I could play beer league hockey with all the guys. I could grow old and gray and out of shape and drink a twelve-pack every night after work. It would be easy. Hell, it’s what was expected of me.

  Leo put his hand on my shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  I laughed and turned to look up at him. “I highly doubt that.”

  “You’re feeling sorry for yourself and planning to become another town drunk.”

  The bubbles had stopped rising to the top of the beer and my mouth was watering for it. “So, what if I am?”

  “You’re more than that.”

  “Maybe I’m not.”

  Leo narrowed his eyes at me. “Get the fuck out of that chair and stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?” Leo was lucky that I wasn’t ten beers in. My hands were balled into fists at my side and drunk me would’ve punched that self-righteous prick in the nose.

  Leo hadn’t moved his hand from my shoulder, and he squeezed it, a little tighter than a friendly squeeze. “I’m asking you – as a friend. And as your coach. It’s important.”

  His patience and kindness won me over. He didn’t want to see me spiral out of control, even though that’s all I felt like doing. It was the easiest way to get over Bronwyn.

  “Alright.” I handed the beer to Jasper and followed Leo from the Brewpub.

  “Where are we going?”

  Leo pointed to my car. “Get your hockey bag and come with me.”

  I sighed and pulled the big Bauer bag from the trunk and threw it in the back of his rusty old pickup truck. “I would’ve been fine. There’s just a lot going on.”

  The gears ground as Leo put the truck in gear and I wound down the window and let the breeze blow through the cab as we drove through town. “A lot more than being shortlisted for the New York Thunder?” Leo glanced at me and then returned his gaze to the road.

  “What?”

  Leo grinned. “Yep. They’re interested in you, even after you shit the bed in tonight’s game.”

  “How do you know?” I turned down the radio so I could focus on his every word. My life had been turned upside down and this was the first piece of good news I’d had in two days.

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” The truck shocks creaked as we pulled into McManus Place.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  “You’re getting your mojo back.” Leo turned off the engine but didn’t get out of the car. “We’re going to go work on your slapshot. It’s the best in the league, everyone knows that. You lost it tonight. We’re not leaving the ice until you get it back.”

  I groaned. “I haven’t lost it, Lion. I just had a tough couple of days.”

  “Maybe you should start by telling me about it and then we’re going to get some ice therapy.”

  The tears welled up and I swiped at my face, hoping that Leo hadn’t seen. “Thanks, Leo.”

  “For what?” He jiggled the keys to get them from the ignition.

  My voice croaked, “Being my friend.”

  Leo paused with his hand on the truck door and looked like he might cry too. He took a visibly deep breath. “I know you’d do the same thing for me.”