Page 32 of Moms of Mayhem
“You do remember your uncle played in the NHL too, right?”
“Yeah, but Ty played defense,” Jace said, his voice muffled as he rooted through the fridge. “Beckett plays right wing. Like me.”
“Finish your homework,” I said, peeking over the banister.
“Iknow, God, Mom.” His arms were full of sandwich ingredients.
I climbed the stairs slowly, the warmth of the house doing nothing to ease the chill that had settled in my chest.
Once in my room, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it like that would keep the panic out. Like it would hold everything in place just a little longer.
But the buzz of Beckett’s voice still echoed in my ears. The fire of his gaze didn’t fade. And I was starting to think this might be the worst idea I’d ever had.
With shaky hands, I fished out my phone from my leggings side pocket.
Emmy
Send me Beckett’s number?
Ty
… why?
Emmy
Jace is skating with him tomorrow morning at the pond. I just need to confirm plans.
Ty
Before school?
Conway’s getting up that early?
Emmy
Hence the need for me to confirm this.
Another text came through with Beckett’s contact card, which I saved.
Emmy
Thank you. Also, he volunteered you and him to take over coaching the Mayhem.
My phone rang, and Ty’s picture lit up the screen. “Beckett’s going back to Denver tomorrow. What do you mean he volunteered us to coach the Mayhem?”
“I know about as much as you do.” I sat on my brightly patterned duvet. “He said he’s here for the winter and wanted to help. Also, did you know how bad the rink’s finances are?”
Ty sighed. “I’ve asked Tate about it a few times, but she doesn’t seem interested in my help.”
“And that has stopped you, when?” I chuckled, leaning back on my hands and stretching out my sore calves. Between Pilates this morning and being on my feet all day, I was ready for bed.
“I’ll talk to her,” he said, and Rowdy started barking in the background. “I gotta go—someone’s at the door.”
He hung up, and I stared down at my phone, unease settling in over all the unknowns in Jace’s world right now. With no coach and no hockey team, I was terrified of whatJace’s after school life would look like. It was just about all he cared about, and his only dream was to make it to Juniors, then the NHL beyond, just like Ty and Beckett had.
I threw myself back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Everyone warned you that the newborn years would be exhausting, and the toddler years filled with frightening adjectives, but no one talked about these later years. I wasn’t worried so much about my son choking on a stray toy or jumping off the roof anymore—though that one wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibilities either.
Now, what kept me up at night was worry that even when I’d done everything I could to make sure my kid turned into a mature, kind, and happy adult, it wouldn’t be enough. That the beating the world around us dealt was out of my control, and he'd end up damaged because of it.
