Page 13 of Rock the Cradle of Love
Coach Vega’s mouth thins when Noah slinks in ten minutes late. “Sorry, Coach, won’t happen again.” He’d underestimated the time it would take to unload all of Emma’s stuff and say goodbye to her. Plus there was traffic. And road construction.
He misses Emma already. Missed her from the time he turned off the street Daphne and Latte live on. But he’d better get used to it. In a few months’ time, he’ll be leaving her a lot. A ball of cold settles in his stomach at the thought. Not that he has a choice unless he quits hockey, which isn’t even a choice at all. He loves hockey and he’s good at it and makes a decent living, so he’s going to have to buck up and embrace the joy of having Emma in his life while accepting the realities of life for a professional hockey player’s family.
Taylor’s wearing a wry smirk as Noah takes the seat next to him.
“Shut up,” Noah murmurs, but Taylor’s presence eases his anxiety a little bit.
The team watches tape as a whole for a while, going back about ten games. The coaches point out all the things they did right as well as the things they botched. Ten games ago, they were skating fast and hard, finding each other on the ice and maintaining possession well. Huck had minded the net with skill, making some outstanding saves and keeping their losses to a minimum. The game against the Mounties was a well-deserved win. Hell, five games ago, they’d been doing fine. Game play against the Liberty had been less than stellar, though. They should have lost the game, but S’more had snuck in a goal for the go-ahead point. Vega and Daniels spent a lot of time dissecting this game despite the fact that they’d won.
Noah’s skating hadn’t been great. His passing sub-par. His goal-scoring had been minimal, despite multiple attempts per game. Sure, a game was a team effort, but he could have been better.Shouldhave been better for the team, but Jules’s calls were coming more often, and he’d been worried and distracted.
They have forty-five minutes to find lunch. Noah’s phone had vibrated a couple of times this morning, but he couldn’t have pulled his phone out unless he wanted an ass chewing. He pulls it out now with relief. He can check up on his baby girl. The first message, a couple of hours old, shows Emma asleep in her swing. The second had come just a little while ago with a picture of Emma lying on the floor on her stomach propped up by her arms and looking at the large Calico cat sitting in front of her with its front legs curled under its body. Noah’s heart immediately melts. Maybe his baby girl needs a pet. Yeah, right. He’s barely managing the two of them, and that’s with Taylor’s help.
“Look.” Noah holds out his phone to Taylor.
Taylor leans in, shoulder pressing against Noah’s. “Aww. Looks like everyone’s doing fine. How are you holding up?”
His phone buzzes in his hand and his grin fades.Been fussing for a bit, but she’s not outright crying. We’re doing fine.He takes a breath and meets Taylor’s gaze. “I’m okay.” And he is. Emma not in a full lather is definitely progress, so he lets go of his worry. Babies are left with sitters all the time. Even Emma has spent time with sitters. And he’d been honest with Daphne about Emma and her colic.
The afternoon passes quickly though, and he receives two more texts from Daphne. He appreciates them more than he can say. This being-a-dad thing and doing it without a partner is tougher than he expected. A better understanding of Julia’s plight hits him like a puck to the gut sans pads, and he’s been operating without a veil of sadness thrown over him. How she made it through three months without much support, he’s not sure, but it takes a lot of inner strength to carry on the way she had. She’s going to hear that next time he sees her. Which he definitely needs to make time for.
* * *
“Home again, home again, Emma,” says Noah, setting her carrier down to unlock the front door.
She’s grinning and kicking her feet, making the carrier rock a little on its curved legs. When he’d arrived to pick her up, the huge smile she’d given him as well as the full-body wiggle, arms and legs waving, had made him feel ten feet tall and bulletproof. That kind of acknowledgment after such a short time of being a family unit had been better than winning any of the trophies or accolades he’d gotten in his hockey career, including the league championship he’d been a part of the year he graduated from high school.
Dinner is a messy affair for Emma as she grabs at the spoon and rubs rice cereal and bananas all over her face and head. His own grilled cheese and tomato soup is quick and easy to make. But bath time isn’t nearly so enjoyable and Emma frets most of the way through it. It’s been a crazy day, being separated, and he’s feeling out of sorts himself. He can’t imagine what Emma must be feeling with another change in circumstances under her belt in such a short time.
She’s still fussing once she’s clean, diapered, and dressed.
“Hey, sweet pea, what’s wrong?” he asks, bouncing her gently. She cries and rubs her hands against her mouth and nose. He tries all kinds of positions. Over his shoulder, her back to his chest, her stomach along his forearm. Nothing works. He lays her down on a blanket on the floor with a handful of bright colored rattles and teethers. She rubs her face in the blanket, kicks her legs, and cries harder. Noah picks her up again and walks down the hall and into her room. It’s a mess still. He’s got to finish assembling the furniture at some point and put up all the decorations he’s bought.
“Look, honey, this is your room. It’s going to be so pretty when Daddy’s done. You just need to hang on a few more days, and then you can sleep in here. Won’t that be nice?”
His phone rings from the living room and he hustles to answer it. He’s been expecting a call from the family law attorney that his regular attorney referred him to. They agree on the following Wednesday afternoon. He hangs up with a sigh of relief. They’re one step closer to legally being family. To being safe. His relief is short-lived however.
Emma kicks her legs and cries harder still, and what he wouldn’t give or do to take away her distress. Only, there’s nothing he can do but be here for her. He paces the length of the hallway jiggling her gently. Perhaps a stint in the rocking chair will work. But Noah sees the blue sheet draped over the upright mattress when he enters the nursery and nods. It’s worth a try. If only he can remember how to wrap it properly. Grabbing it, he goes into his own room. God, he’d love a shower right about now, but Emma’s needs outrank his own. The sheet is finally wrapped around him in some semblance of something, and he shimmies and slides a very unhappy baby into the pouch he made. It’s not exactly the way Taylor had done it, but Emma’s secure against his chest and she calms almost immediately, and he heaves a sigh of relief. He shouldn’t freak out so much. The colic won’t last much longer. He knows this intellectually; he’s done enough research. But a live crying baby is something else entirely.
Knowing he looks like an idiot, and not caring a whit, he stuffs the mailbox key in his pocket and goes to check the mail. The change of venue, though she can’t see it, and the change in his stride calms Emma even more, so he sits on the bottom step to turn her around and pop her head out of the top so she can actually see the world around her. He opts to walk around the complex before checking the box. Crying becomes snuffling becomes quiet investigation. A few of his neighbors are coming and going, and he gets a fair share of raised eyebrows until they see Emma’s face. Then they smile. He’s got a beautiful baby daughter and the summer stretching ahead of him. Life is good, despite the crying.
* * *
Without having to haul all of Emma’s stuff to Latte and Daphne’s again on Wednesday—he’d opted to leave just about everything—he arrives at the rink early enough to clue Vega and Daniels in on the new addition to his family. After their initial surprise and then congratulations, they tell him to go see HR and Media Relations too, at some point, which yeah, he needs to do, but she’s not legally his so the HR stuff has to wait. He’s not too worried; he can handle paying cash should she require medical attention.
Taylor slides into the seat next to Noah. “How’s Puck Baby today?”
Noah can’t help the grin and the happy flip of his heart. “She’s fine. Speaking of, can you babysit next Wednesday so I can meet with the family law attorney?”
Taylor nods and grins. “I’m happy to spend the day with Puck Baby.”
S’more turns around in his front row seat. “Who’s Puck Baby?” he asks, looking curious and delighted.
Taylor’s eyes and mouth go round as hockey pucks. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he says.
Noah smiles, shakes his head. “It’s not a secret, remember?”
“I know, but you might have wanted to let people know in your own way, in your own time.”
