Page 35 of Cross Check Daddies
“Oh my God, you’re quotingThe Officeagain.”
“Wayne Gretzky first,” I shoot back, laughing. “Michael Scott just made it iconic.”
Tanner shakes his head, but he’s smiling now, just a little. “You’re such a dad.”
“I’m the cool uncle,” I correct. “And I’m serious. You’ll regret it more if you don’t try.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I lean back on my elbows, staring up at the pale blue sky. “You know how I got this limp?”
“You’ve told me.”
“I’ll tell you again. Stanley Cup finals. Third period…”
“You shattered your foot blocking a shot, then kept playing.”
“Damn right. Couldn’t skate the same after that. But we won. And I wouldn’t trade it.”
He nods, silent now, ice cream forgotten in his hand.
“I miss playing,” I admit, softer now. “Every day. But I get to be part of this team. I help shape it. That matters too.”
Tanner looks at me like he’s really hearing it.
“What I’m saying is this. Take the damn shot. Even if it wrecks something, even if it’s messy. At least you’ll know.”
He nods. “Thanks, bro.”
He stands, shaking out sand and slinging the board under his arm. I watch him walk toward the water to rinse off, tall and athletic, full of promise and that restlessness I recognize all too well.
I stay seated, finishing the cone. In the hush of the late afternoon, I think about Brooke. About the way she used to fall asleep with her head on my chest, the quiet sound of her breathing syncing with mine. The way she used to look at me, like she knew every part of me and still liked what she saw.
I’ll take my own advice eventually. I will. Just not today.
For now, I live off memory and the ache she left behind.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tanner
I read her text again,fingers hovering before I tap the call button. The line rings twice before she picks up.
“It’s only eight,” I say, trying to sound casual.
“Hey, Tanner.”
I ask if she can come down and talk. She hesitates, mentions a deadline, and that her nanny is about to leave. I tell her to send her CashApp. She asks why.
“Just give it to me.”
She does, and I wire her two hundred and fifty bucks with a quick message:Tell the nanny to stay a little longer.
I plead, “Please, Brooke. Please come down. Just for a bit.”
Silence hangs before she says she already had dinner.
“That’s okay,” I say, “where I’m taking you will only be half an hour. Then I’ll bring you back.”
