Page 106 of Gross Misconduct

A few weeks later

“And Daddy was so fast on the ice. When he hit the puck and it whooshed all the way down to Mr. Des, it was so cool,” June says.

“I think the puck went faster than the speed of sound…” Annabelle squeals.

It’s been a few weeks since the Sourwood Cup, and June and Annabelle are still talking about their first hockey game. They each have a million questions about the sport. How long does it take us to put on all of our hockey padding? What if we have to go to the bathroom during a game? Do all players usually kiss at the end of a game like their Dad and me?

Earlier today at their tea party birthday, they bragged to all their friends about watching their dad play hockey. Isabella H. was impressed. Isabella J., not so much.

“Your dad is quite the hockey player,” I tell them inside their ice castle tree house.

Because the tea party place had limited capacity, Griffin decided to throw an afterparty in his background that doubles as an official treehouse-warming. Players from the Comebacks mingle around the backyard, some with kids. I can now put names to hockey jerseys.

“Are you and my dad going to get married?” Annabelle asks as she straightens up inside the treehouse.

Shit. Kids have no filter and no segue.

“Yeah.” June crosses her arms. “What are your intentions with our father?”

“I, uh…what a question.” I break into a nervous laugh. “I mean, we haven’t really discussed anything.”

Is it hot in this treehouse? Am I allergic to wood? Is that why I’m starting to itch?

“Girls.” Griffin calls from the ground. “Stop interrogating Jack.”

“We’re just having a conversation.” June sits on the beanbag chair we moved up there. She crosses her legs like a power lawyer in the middle of a high-stakes negotiation.

“I’m going to check on my friends.” I scurry down the ladder and collapse into Griffin’s arms with relief.

“You okay there?”

“Your daughters are lovely, but they also scare me,” I whisper.

“Well, whatareyour intentions with me?” Griffin arches his right eyebrow as he curls his arms tighter around my waist. If he were a cocoon, I’d never want to become a butterfly.

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise.” I tilt my head up and give him a kiss.

The truth is, we haven’t had any discussions about the state of things. We’ve been spending time together, having sleepovers, hanging with his daughters. I’ve been researching careers as well as looking into going to college. It’s a bit overwhelming. To pay the bills, Marcy has let me work at Summers Rink, cleaning up and helping her with administrative tasks. Being with Griffin is one area of my life where I’m living in the present. I don’t see things ending anytime soon. For now, I’m enjoying the ride. As long as I get to spend time with Griffin, and he lets me see him naked on a regular basis, then all is good. Griffin makes me feel like everything will be okay, and that feeling is more powerful than a label.

Griffin leans in, a hesitant crease in his forehead. “Hey, so I bumped into your dad when I went to Ferguson’s the other day. I didn’t mention the party, but if you wanted to invite him…there’re a lot of people here…”

“So we won’t make a scene?” Sadly, Griffin knows us well. “Are you guys friends now?”

“No. But I can make an effort if you’re making an effort.”

My chest tightens for a moment. Since Dad showed up at the Sourwood Cup, our relationship has been slowly thawing. Very slowly. It’s hard to forget the years of him being an asshole. Showing up at one game and telling me I played well doesn’t wash the past away. It isn’t like Ted Gross magically transformed. We’re both taking baby steps toward a normal relationship. It’s going to take a while.

“I’ll see him another time,” I say quietly.

“Yeah. Of course. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” Griffin rubs my shoulders, trying to get us back into the party mood.

“Hello!” Derek and his teenage daughter Jolene stroll up to us, a perfect diversion.

“What’s going on!” I pull Derek into a bear hug.

Behind them, a man in a bright red button-down shirt furiously texts on his phone with one hand while carrying an iced coffee in the other.

“Hey, buddy!” Griffin gives him a hug.

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