Page 58 of Unbreakable
If this day had been a series of knives inserted into my gut, this was all of them getting turned at once. Maybe Jeanine was right. Maybe I had been selfish to want to move here.
Her words about making the right choice for me instead of the right choice for our family rang in my head. The kids had made friends on our street, but that didn’t mean they didn’t miss California or feel upended by the move.
I leaned to kiss Greyson’s forehead. “I miss them too. We’ll have to go see them soon.”
“And Mom.”
“Mom will come home, Grey. Sometimes moms need a break. I’m going out of town tomorrow, but Gangee will be here to take care of you. Can you promise to be good for her? Listen to what she says?”
“Okay.”
“And be nice to your sisters.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t worry about the broken plate, buddy. There are plenty of plates. There’s only one you.” I punctuated that with a boop on his nose. He smiled, even though I knew he was getting too old for stuff like that to be fun.
I got a little choked up. Jeanine was the one who had taught me to stay calm when the kids had accidents, whether it was breaking a plate or spilling a glass of water, or a potty accident. I always got chewed out growing up if I made a mistake like that, but Jeannie pointed out that you have to let kids try stuff and screw up, then support them when stuff goes wrong.
And yet, I’d gotten mad at her when she accidentally left that knife out, then Greyson got to it and cut the couch. She was treating the kids the way she wanted to be treated, with compassion and understanding. I was treating her the way my parents, and my mom in particular, treated me.
Jeanine was so smart. So kind. I was a better dad because she was their mom.
I had to get her back and close the space between us.
Mom watchedsome garbage network show while I got things ready for the next day. I needed to leave her some specific instructions for how everything worked. Jeannie had carefully penned everything into the family calendar hanging in thekitchen. She used erasable pens so it was dark enough to read, but not so permanent that dates couldn’t be changed.
The previous owners built a little desk space into the kitchen. All the bills and papers were organized. Alice’s EpiPen was there so it was easily accessible in an emergency. And Jeanine had even left my mom a detailed guide to all the kids’ comings and goings, their schedule, what they’d eat, and what was already in the fridge or pantry.
Looking over the calendar, I saw where all my practices, games, and events were figured in. The kids’ school recitals and plays. Bella’s preschool art exhibit. Pancakes with Santa. And next Thursday, after I was back from the road trip, she’d writtenask D about date, get sitter?
Of course. A date. A time for the two of us to be alone before Christmas.
But also, I got why she was stressed. The calendar was jam-packed, and a lot of the stuff was fundraiser stuff with the WAGs group. Maybe I wasn’t specifically part of the problem, but the lifestyle that I led put stress on her. Being a hockey player obligated her to be part of the wives’ group, on top of everything else. And she hadn’t quite found her girls in Ohio yet.
I thought back to what she said before she left. She didn’t want to live the life I built for me.
All this time, I thought I was building a life for her and the kids, but that disregarded everything they’d built for themselves.
Jeanine chose me in the strongest way she could, leaving her work and signing up for a life with me. Bit by bit, she made friends in my social circle and created a supportive community among L.A.’s wives and girlfriends.
Then, after eight years of her creating this solid life for our whole family, I took it away from them.
My heart ached. Why would she come back to that? She could just as easily spend her time away, then decide she was takingthe kids and going back to California. She’d be within her right to want a divorce. I was ruining everything, from our family’s life to my team. How could I blame her for leaving?
I needed to give something back if I wanted her to come back.
I needed to come up with a plan, and hope to hell it would work.
“She talking to you?”Jack Leroy asked as I settled in my seat on the team jet.
“Yeah, but nothing serious. I really don’t know how this is going to go.”
“Well, worst case, she serves you papers.”
I chuckled. “Wow, Jack. Thanks for that.”
“What? Sometimes it’s for the best,” he said.
