Page 59 of Beauty
Ollie’s mom and I have a fifty-fifty custody arrangement. My games typically fall on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, so those are Jen’s nights, game or not, and we trade off on weekends during the offseason. It means a lot of shuffling around, but it’s important to both of us that we get quality time with our son. It hasn’t always been easy, but Jen and Ted and I make a good team.
Even if I do like that Ollie thinks I’m cooler than Ted.
When I’m traveling, Jen often keeps Ollie on my assigned days, though sometimes she lets him stay with Hannah or my dad. In general, though, he bounces back and forth pretty frequently between our two homes. I bought a three-bedroom condo near the arena, and Jen and Ted live in a townhome and added a little girl to their family two years ago.
Though I don’t have a game today, it’s Thursday, so tonight will be a quiet, lonely night for me. I hate being off when Ollie isn’t here. I rarely get out of the house these days unless it’s with him because I want to be around for the little time we do have together. Fortunately, Jen had a meeting after work today and asked if I’d pick him up and keep him for a few hours. But she’ll be home any minute now, so we need to head her way.
Besides, Hannah talked me into meeting her and the guys at the tattoo shop. She and Daniel are getting matching ink and have turned the event into some kind of party, hence the reason my presence is required. They turn everything into a party, soI should have known the moment she mentioned it that she wouldn’t let me decline.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I finally herd Ollie out into the hall. I’m digging the device out when he makes a beeline for the door directly across from mine. I snag him by the back of his sweatshirt, giving up on checking my phone, to keep him from walking in without knocking.
“Aunt Hannah isn’t even home.” Keeping hold of him, I snatch his jacket off the hook in the entryway and pull the door shut.
While I lock up, Ollie peers up at me, eyes narrowed, like he doesn’t believe me. “What about Daniel?”
“Nope.”
He glares at the door and sighs.
I don’t know whether to laugh or shake my head when he cops an attitude like this. I swear he’s six going on sixteen.
War’s son Brayden is practically grown now, but already, Ollie acts just like him. Despite the sarcastic attitude, Brayden is a good kid, so I’m holding out hope that my little guy will be at that age too.
For the most part, he’s polite. He just doesn’t hide how he feels, and I can’t fault him for that. “Fine,” he says, his shoulders slumping. “Let’s go. But can we get icees on the way?”
“It’s almost dinnertime,” I remind him. Even as I say it, I know I’ll stop and pick one up for him. I’ll just have him put it in the freezer until after dinner.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and shoot Jen a text to let her know we’re running a couple of minutes behind, then toggle over to the group chat that’s had my phone buzzing in my pocket nonstop for the last several minutes.
War: What’s the plan for tonight? Are we going out after?
Aiden: Lex and I are down for that.
Brooks: I’m not sure why I have to come. Have you all forgotten that I have a baby at home?
Aiden: Your wife told my wife to tell everyone you’re coming. She’s got plans for you.
Brooks: I’m sitting right next to the three of you. Why are you texting me?
Chuckling, I close out the chat and pocket the phone, which continues to buzz as the Langfield brothers argue.
I couldn’t be happier about how the move to Boston has turned out. Not only has Ollie really gotten to know Hannah and my dad—once-or-twice-a-year visits and FaceTime only do so much—but I’m once again playing with War and Brooks.
The team is incredibly tight-knit and the guys instantly brought me into the fold. We’ve got a good shot at the playoffs this year, and since I’m at the tail end of this contract, I’ll do everything I can to make it happen. With any luck, the Bolts will renew my contract, but if they don’t, then before long, I may be announcing my retirement. My kid is in Boston, so this is where I’ll stay, hockey or not.
“Where are you playing this weekend?” he asks as we wait at the drive-thru window for his icee.
“Chicago. I’ll be back on Sunday, though, and you and I have a date at the aquarium.”
He nods. “I have baseball tryouts on Saturday.”
It’s T-ball, and I’m aware. My son hasn’t shown much interest in hockey, but after attending a few Revs games with Hannah last season—which included being brought out onto thefield and sitting in the dugout—he’s obsessed with the sport. “Ted is taking you, I think.”
Ollie drops his head back against the seat, his expression one of exasperation. “I don’t have the energy to pretend that I believe he can handle that.”
I cough out a laugh, and with a grin, I peer at him where he’s buckled in behind me. “He’s just got to drive you there and watch.”
He slips his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, his blue eyes shrewd, and eyes me in the rearview mirror. “As I was saying.”
