Page 18 of Balance

She also wants to try out a new hairstyle almost every day. Thank goodness for the internet and tutorial videos. I can barely braid my own hair.

Nessa, I sigh, poor Nessa. She really despises school. Luckily I ordered a million different workbooks, flash cards, sticker books, and a massive white board that she has a blast with marking all over.

So far, so good. She knows the alphabet, and her numbers up to twenty, but gets distracted when we work on shapes, colors, and writing. She also falls asleep when I read to her. It’s going to be a long ride. I’ll most likely keep her home until she heads off to Kindergarten, if Morgan agrees. Luckily their requirements aren’t too awful.

Tilly is just a sweetheart. We’ve been working on potty training, coloring, singing, and she knows most of the alphabet. She counts to ten, and she knows the common shapes and colors. Other than ‘homeschooling’ we spend our days baking, walking around the neighborhood, playing in the yard, and driving to the park.

I grocery shop on days that Morgan is home. Everything else, I just order online and have it shipped to the house. I don’t know anyone here to really ever go out anyway. I also don’t mind the girls having a more low-key life until Morgan gives the all-clear once his divorce is final and the paparazzi leave him alone.

I now have a mini library in my closet, more clothes than I know what to do with, and my debt is dwindling with this insane salary. I’ve been doing a lot of online shopping, buying everything I was never able to before. Even stuff as simple as moderate skin care products, a hair straightener, and a good hair dryer.

I don’t know how long this all will last, so I’m also saving up like crazy.

The more time Morgan and I spend together on nights that he’s home is making my walls shake and want to crumble down. We mostly talk about the kids, meal planning, and what shows he wants to start watching. Nothing personal.

No hockey. Nothing flirtatious. Nothing like what I’ve been dreaming of every damn night.

Pre-season started this week and Morgan said that the games go on too late for the girls, but he set the TV up on the correct channel for me to watch before he left earlier. The girls are all huddled around me on the couch, snacks in their laps, and blankets curled around us.

“I’ve been to a few of dad’s games. They’re loud and intense… the guys always seem to get hurt, too.” I frown at Avery and scoot her closer, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

“There are doctors and medics at the games, right? I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s been training so hard these last few weeks. And the construction starts on the home gym next week so that he can become stronger and faster on the ice, right?”

She chuckles and leans her head against me. “Yeah… Just wait ‘til you watch him play. He’s so fast, it’s hard to keep up with. He’s a center forward.” I frown as I look up the different hockey positions before the game starts on my phone.

There are six men on the ice for each team. Three forwards - left, center, and right. Two defensemen, and the goalie. Then there are all of the different plays, penalties… Periods. The different ‘lines’. They’re called strings in football. I’ll try to remember that.

The announcers begin their spiels. The guys are playing some team in Canada, the Knights, and I squirm in my seat when Morgan’s name is called and I watch him skate out. He’s tall and imposing while walking barefoot around the house, but in his gear, on those thin blades. Hell, even with the helmet, he looks like a Viking ready to slaughter.

Damn.

I watch the clock on my phone to make sure the girls aren’t up too late and sit at the edge of my seat as we watch the game.

“There are three periods. They’re twenty minutes long and there are also breaks, or intermittens, those are like ten minutes long in between the periods.”

I smile softly at her and kiss her head. “The intermissionsare fifteen minutes long, if I remember correctly from what I just looked up. What do you think the score will be?”

She hums and I watch as her hazel eyes fly around, watching out for her dad, watching that puck as if it’s her job, too. “I think they’ll win 3-1.”

When the commercials start I guide all of the girls to their rooms and promise to let them know the score in the morning. “I know that you want to stay up, but it’s still a school night. I promise that we’ll do something fun this weekend before your dad starts traveling next week. You girls can pick your favorite restaurant.”

Teeth are brushed, hair is braided, and pajamas are finally on. Tilly and Nessa both fall asleep within minutes, and I let Avery do her thing. “Just set an alarm on your tablet for 8:30, please. See you in the morning.” I wave and close her door, racing back to the living room to make sure I didn’t miss too much.

I settle down and shove some popcorn in my mouth, wincing when someone on our team gets slammed into the ice and their head bounces when they hit. They don’t move and I bite down on my lip so hard, I can feel my skin splitting. I have no idea who it is, but the medic rushes out onto the rink, kit in hand as she starts waving her arms around and calling out for more help.

I hold my breath as they get the player off the ice, no news on what’s happening. The game resumes and you can tell that the Mavericks are out of sorts, worried about their fallen teammate.

Shit, I would probably be freaking the hell out if it was Morgan. I probably should have been listening to the announcers, learned what their name was.

I’m glad the girls are asleep now.

I actually stayed awake for the entire game, no overtime and they won 3-2. Only one point off from what Avery guessed. I smile as I send Morgan a quick text, congratulating him on the win and hoping that his teammate is okay.

The announcers came on about twenty minutes ago to let us know that Logan Prescott is just fine, just got knocked out. No concussion but will need to miss Thursday’s game until he’s cleared to skate. I think the entire arena let out a sigh of relief when that was broadcasted. I know I sure did.

I haven’t met any of Morgan’s teammates or friends, but I know they’re like family to him. I’m sure the girls are also close to them and their kids.

I turn off the TV and head to the kitchen with the dirty dishes, hurrying to clean up so that I can crawl into bed. I don’t know how long it takes for Morgan to get home and I don’t want to be creepy and wait up for him. I leave the light on and head down the hall, checking on the girls before slipping into my room and getting ready to slumber.

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