“As soon as I’m back, you’re going to take a break, okay?”
Mom shrugs.
I rush through Main Street, wishing I could stop by A Likely Story Bookstore to say hello to my great aunt and buy a few books to read while I’m in town. The outside of the window shops are almost the same as they were while I was growing up. The buildings are a mix of Old West and Victorian eras, and at the end of it all is the Aldridge mansion.
The fence that surrounds it is made out of limestone. It’s easy to climb and not too tall. I’d know, as I used to sneak in when the old Aldridge lady was still alive. The far east side of the house has a big rock next to a tree that is perfect for sitting and reading a book on a hot summer day. I used it often when the park was too busy.
The outside hasn’t changed much, except for all the ways that it has. The old black iron gate has been restored or replaced with a newer replica. It’s strange to find it closed. After old Lady Aldridge died, it was always open. That’s when I used to come by to use the lake as my private pool.
There’s something in front of the gate, reminiscent of a drive-thru dashboard. I press what I assume is the doorbell.
“How can I help you?” A husky voice answers.
I hold up the box. “I have a delivery from My Cookie Jar.”
“Where is Paige?” the voice asks.
Busy, and I don’t have time to explain myself.
“Can you just come outside to pick up the box?”
“Who are you?” The man’s voice has a hint of annoyance.
“My name is Hadley,” I say with a groan.
“Anyone know a Hayley?”
“Hadley!”
“Henry, open the door. I don’t care if she’s a Russian spy. She has my croissants,” a woman snaps at the man.
“Fine,” the man sighs. “You can come inside.”
Why can’t he come outside?
The gate opens. I walk toward the main house, but I can’t help but stare at the charred building across from it. I guess that’s the studio that exploded. If the house was in the same condition as when I was younger, it would certainly add more personality to its previously gothic style
It’s a miracle that none of the trees burnt with the explosion. Maybe because it was built closer to the lake and further from the evergreens?
When I arrive at the main house, there’s a pregnant lady by the door flanked by two tall men. She is smiling at me, her hair in dark waves resting on her shoulders. “You must be Hadley. I’m Sophia Aragon-Aldridge.”
I present the box. “Did the goodies give me away?”
She shakes her head. “Your mom talks a lot about you and showed us your picture once,” she states.
My stomach drops. What did Mom share with her? It’s unnerving to stand here not knowing if I’m going to say something that’ll contradict her.
“Hello,” I say, handing it over.
She takes the box with both hands and hugs it. “You’re a lifesaver. Henry and Pierce tried to go for our daily order but they said the store was swamped,” she says, name dropping two of the Aldridge brothers.
“It was like the grand opening of Melting Memories A la Mode,” one of the guys who is standing close to her complains. He’s almost a foot taller than me and I notice how green his eyes are as he studies me. “You couldn’t get near that place.”
“It was worth waiting for a double fudge vanilla sundae,” I say, remembering the grand opening. “A friend and I called in sick.”
“You live in Denver?” he asks.
“Up until yesterday morning,” I confirm.
“She is the social media director for the Denver Troopers,” Sophia announces then points at the man who mentioned MMAM. “That’s Pierce, and the one behind him is my husband, Henry.”
They look a lot alike—both have the same green eyes. Pierce is slightly taller than his brother and his shoulders broader, but they’re definitely brothers.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, wondering what else Mom told her about me. There’s one thing I’m sure she hasn’t said just yet, so I do it. “I was the social media director.”
Sophia arches an eyebrow, then leans in with a conspiratorial whisper. “Does that have to do anything with the inappropriate pictures that were posted online?”
“Maybe?” I answer and I can’t help but grin.
I shouldn’t because I might be in trouble for doing that, but a little vengeance on your cheating boyfriend just tastes too good not to.
“Do you know who posted them?” she asks in the same tone. “That person might get a gold medal or be blacklisted.”
“I don’t want to think what’s going to happen to me, yet,” I sigh, hoping that the Quintons forget about it and me.
Her eyes open wide as she gasps. “Why?”
“Randall, the general manager of the team, was my live-in boyfriend up until that day,” I say, unsure why I’m telling her this. I haven’t even told Mom yet. “Never mind.”
“You were nice,” she says and points at Henry. “I catch him cheating and I’m going all Lorena Bobbitt on him.”
I frown, confused. “Who is Lorena Bobbitt?” Henry and I ask at the same time.
“She’s famous for cutting her husband’s manhood,” Pierce explains while covering his crotch. “I followed that trial closely. If you need a lawyer, I’m your guy.”
“I’d never cheat on you, babe. I love you,” Henry says.
Sophia laughs and gives me a playful glance. “I love to keep him on his toes. The Bobbitt case happened too long ago. I just know it because Mom threatened Dad a few times with that while I was growing up. I’m sorry he cheated on you. You guys were engaged, right?”
Oh, my mother and her fact tweaking. Before I can say anything a kid’s voice yells, “Mama?”
I frown but before I can reply, I have a pair of small arms wrapped around my legs. I look down and it’s a cute toddler with blond hair wearing footie pajamas.
“Arden, sweetheart,” Sophia says. “She’s Hadley.”
“Howdy!” He says, releasing my legs and looking up to me, and grinning.
He’s the same boy from last night. I’m even more curious about him and his father.
Who is his father? He’s one of the Aldridge brothers? Was that Mills? Everyone who follows hockey knows about him and his son. This sweet little boy might be him. I love kids. I’ve always loved kids. In all my time of loving kids, I have never, not once, wanted to have them. This kid makes me want to change my mind. The house, the people, and this adorable toddler are calling me in. I want to stay and get to know this little boy, maybe his dad, and everyone else.
I decide to chalk it up to curiosity, nothing more. Besides, it's time for me to leave. Mom is waiting for me.
“It was nice meeting everyone.”
Chapter Seven
Mills
An average hockey player gets around 22-24 minutes per game. Hockey players retire between the ages of thirty-three and thirty-seven according to a website. It really depends on many factors. I don’t think there’s an average. Most of the players retire because of an injury. After my last injury, the Vancouver Orcas released me from my contract.