Page 134 of Perfectly Grumpy

“Oh, right,” Brax says excitedly. “You should probably finish that first, but make it quick!”

Coach Jenkins shrugs and waves Brax out the door. “We’ll give the fans a game. You get to the hospital.”

The game itself felt more like a chaotic backyard scrimmage than a professional match—full of distracted players too busy checking their phones for baby updates to remember to watch the puck.

The moment the final whistle blows, nobody sticks around for handshakes. Players, coaches, even the Zamboni guy—everyone is on a mission toward the hospital.

We hurtle toward the parking lot in a rush of bodies, Tate’shand firmly clasped around mine, and in the crush of people, he stops and kisses me on the mouth one more time.

Someone walks by, sees us kissing and snaps a picture.

“That person just took our picture,” I say. “Aren’t you upset?”

Tate just smiles. “Not anymore, Sunny. You dragged me onto a motorcycle and straight into a life I didn’t know I wanted. Now the whole world can know. I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

FORTY-FIVE

lauren

The drive to the hospital passes in a blur of anticipation and Tate’s hand never leaving mine. By the time we get there, the waiting area looks like a post-game locker room—loud, chaotic, and everyone’s stress-eating like it’s an Olympic sport. After waiting nearly an hour, Brax bursts through the door.

“It’s a girl!” he shouts, his whole face lit up with joy. “Jaz is a rockstar. The baby’s healthy. They’re both doing great.”

Everyone cheers. Lucian and Leo high-five. Rourke fist-pumps the air. Sloan’s crying, and Vale’s cryingbecauseSloan’s crying.

And I’m standing in the middle of this wild, incredible moment, with Tate’s arms wrapped around me, a feeling of gratitude washing over me. Because I get two families. My boisterous, funny, and sometimes stubbornly loyal family, and my hockey family, who’s just as boisterous, funny, and stubbornly loyal.

“Unfortunately, the hospital won’t let the entire team in at once,” Brax says.

“Disappointing,” Leo says as he waits next to Victoria. “We were ready to throw a party in the maternity ward.”

“Maybe I’ll see if I can sweet-talk the nurse,” Rourke says, taking off aftera young nurse.

“He’ll probably try to ask for her number.” Leo snorts. “And get shot down before he can even finish. Doesn’t matter because I’m pretty sure he has it bad for Janie. He texted her on the way over, and for the first time in weeks, got a reply.”

“Maybe there’s hope for him after all,” I say.

“Lauren and Tate, do you want to see the baby with Vale and Sloan?” Brax asks, pointing toward the hospital room.

I glance at Tate. He nods. “We’d love to,” I say.

We follow the group to the room, where Jaz is holding a baby who’s wrapped like a little burrito.

“Welcome to the world, little Rosie,” Jaz says to the tiny baby as she passes her to her sister.

My heart stops completely. “Did you just call herRosie?”

Jaz nods. “Rose Ember MacPherson.”

“I can’t believe it.” I shake my head. “That was my mom’s name—Rose Williamson.” For the last year, I’ve carried Mom’s absence like a weight on my shoulders, wondering how to honor her memory.

But hearing her name spoken over this new life, watching hope literally swaddled in a hospital blanket, for the first time since she died, grief doesn’t feel like drowning. It feels like love continuing, giving new life again.

“Are you okay with us using that name?” Jaz asks.

“More than okay,” I say, smiling through my tears. “It’s perfect.”

Vale holds out his arms and wiggles his fingers. “Okay, it’s time for Uncle Vale to hold Rosie.”

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