Page 63 of Lost on Ice
She slumps her shoulders and sticks out her bottom lip in a disappointed pout.
A waitress comes over and takes our order, and once she leaves, Carter looks at me and hesitantly asks, “So, uh, what exactly is going on with you and…” He glances down at Lilah before silently mouthing, “Abbie?”
I sneak a look at Lilah. I don’t want to say anything explicit, and I definitely don’t want to say anything she might repeat back to her mom.
Choosing my words carefully, I answer, “We’ve, uh, reconnected. Kind of back to how things used to be, but it’s somehow more than that this time.”
“Oh?” Carter raises his brows in surprise. “Is that a good thing or not?”
I glance at Lilah again. She’s coloring away, lost in her own little world, happy as can be. She’s so perfect. So sweet and funny and loving.
“I’m not sure,” I murmur, my heart aching.
“It’s kind of crazy how much she looks like you.”
I pause, emotion rushing through me, but I swallow and shake my head, meeting Carter’s eyes again.
“Abbie said she wasn’t mine,” I reply sharply. Then, needing to change the subject, I ask, “How are things at the rink?”
A little before three, I walk into the clinic with Lilah in my arms. As we step through the door, Abbie comes out from the back hallway where the exam rooms are located.She’s walking with a patient, a tall, thin man who’s older. The way he’s watching her so intently puts me on edge, but Abbie is perfectly professional.She’s smiling politely and nodding as he speaks to her. She looks tired, though. Her smile strained and her eyes heavy. A stab of concern goes through me. I hope she’s not overworking herself.
“All right, well, I’ll put you on the schedule for two weeks from now for your follow-up.”
The man nods and smiles. It seems a little too happy for a doctor’s appointment, I think.
“Sounds good,” he says. “Thank you, Abbie.”
“You have a good day,” she tells him. She catches sight of us at that moment and her gaze lingers on me, taking in my pre-game navy suit. If I’m not mistaken, I see a flash of appreciation cross her eyes.
The patient leaves and I watch him go, keeping my gaze on him until he gets into his gray car and drives away. Then I cross to where Abbie is standing.
“Mommy!” Lilah exclaims.
“Hi, baby girl. Did you have a good day?”
“Yeah! So fun!”
Abbie chuckles. “Oh, good, I’m glad.” Grinning at me, she says, “Thanks for sending pictures throughout the day.”
“No problem. Figured you’d need some Lilah smiles to brighten things up for you.”
I hand her the keys to her car, and she pulls mine from her pocket.
“How did you manage to look so put together while watching a two-and-a-half-year-old?” Her tone has a teasing note to it.
“Oh, you like this?” I smirk, and give a slow once over. “I plopped her in front of the TV and put on the show with the little blue dog.”
She laughs and the sound is rich and warm. “That’s my favorite one.”
Suddenly, her eyes land on my shoulder and she lifts her hand, as if to touch it, but then appears to think better of it and pulls back.
“You, uh, have some glitter on you.”
I look down and chuckle, wiping my shoulder, even though I know there’s no way I’m getting rid of it that easily.
“Thanks,” I say, but when I see the door to the exam rooms open behind her, I stiffen and instinctively squeeze Lilah tighter in my arms.
Dr. Westbrook steps out and glances from me to Lilah. Something in me wants to turn away so that Westbrook can’t see her. I’m not sure where that urge comes from, but I chalk it up to jealousy. Stupid, immature jealousy.
