I wondered, if his team had called him on his shit and held him accountable, whether he wouldn’t have carried on with the drinking. As if I know what I’m talking about. Armchair psychology for the win.
All I know is that he was different than the man I expected from the descriptions in Ashley’s journal because the picture she’d created of him was very sparce and I’d filled in the gaps.
Hockey Guy to me was more than likely an asshole, probably married, a failed college jock who worked in an office, and relived his glory days in random bars. Although some of that was me projecting all the negative jock stereotypes I could onto the nameless faceless man who’d created a baby without even knowing about it.
Ashley had described her hookup as a party dude, prone to drinking more than he could hold, sleeping around, a player, but she never explicitly gave me names. All I knew is what she’d told me. He meant nothing to her, but her workmates had bet her she couldn’t land him. By the time I’d even gotten that small amount of information out of her, she’d been seven months pregnant and already showing signs of the pre-eclampsia that would ultimately steal her from Sophie’s life, and mine.
I wish she had told me more because if I’d known about him as a person and not just a code in a journal, I would have found him. Maybe he could have been with Ashley and then maybe my sister might not have died.
I needed to remember that fate or the gods or whoever was out there controlling this mindfuck that was life had never given me a chance to do anything. None of this was my fault, but I’d chosen to stay with Sophie. I’d handed my heart to her wrapped in ribbons. If she didn’t live, then what was left of me? What was I without her?
Frozen in place, my chest tightened, and my vision blurred, and I dropped my hold on the cases.
“Isaac?” I heard my name, but it echoed strangely, and everything was gray and blurry. Joachim murmured words, patted my shoulder, and I knew I should say something to acknowledge him, but nothing was happening. “It’s okay, Isaac, let’s get these in the car, come on, sit down.”
“I’m fine,” I lied and blinked my way back to reality. He was still holding Sophie, staring at me as if I was a bug on display.
“Isaac—”
“It’s okay.” I bent to pick up the cases, realizing that put me right at the level of his ass as he turned to buckle Sophie into a car seat.
I appreciated the form of the man who was holding Sophie. Jeans molded strong thighs, and a butt that could fuel my fantasies for a while, not to mention his shirt strained whenever he flexed his biceps. Fuck my life he’s hot. Was it inappropriate to balance my worries with admiring his ass? I could admire, right? It wasn’t as if I wanted anything to come of it because Sophie was my focus, but it didn’t hurt to look. What am I doing? I bet he could pick me up, throw me over his shoulder, and—
“Are you okay?” he asked as he popped the trunk.
“Huh?”
“You look pale, are you okay?” He frowned but I wasn’t going to explain the thought processes that had traveled through me a hell of a long way in a few minutes of silence.
“I’m fine.”
He gave me a crooked, but uncertain, smile and by the time the bags were in Joachim’s rental, I’d forced my worries, fears, panic, and untimely attraction into a box and gone back to focusing on what happened next.
It was forty minutes of silence as we drove out of the city and headed to the borough of Dedham, to the address he’d given on the medical records. The house itself was small but sturdy, opposite Wigwam Pond, whatever that was, and something about it made me feel instantly happy. Nothing like I expected. It wasn’t some huge millionaire’s mansion, but rather it was homey with a front yard. Only I couldn’t see all of it because it was blocked by two white vans and a truck, and there were sawhorses on the small patch of grass.
“They said they’d get everyone on this so it will be done by the end of today,” Joachim explained, wincing at me and glancing at Sophie, who clung to my neck wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “I didn’t think this through,” he muttered.
“Are they rebuilding your house from the foundation up?” I asked with care, worrying that the idea of staying with Joachim to give Sophie time with her father was going to cause issues.
“No, I promise it’s not as bad as it looks. They have this many guys so they can do it fast, but I didn’t expect so much.”
I went into instant caretaker mode—my default setting—and pressed a kiss to Sophie’s forehead then smiled at him.
“We’re up for an adventure, but can we at least find a quiet spot, away from the workers?”
His lips pursed in thought, and then he grinned. “Yes, follow me.” He walked away from the car and snapped his fingers. “Shoot. Bags.” As easy as if they were anti-gravity cases, he had all three, plus my backpack, and juggled them to shut the trunk. “Follow me.”
He led us around the side of the house and gestured us through an open gate before kicking it shut behind us. Then down a short path through the yard, passing untamed bushes, until finally it opened out and there was a brand-new wooden structure. A shed only fancier.
“I was going to use this for gym equipment, but actually it would make a cool playhouse, right?” He opened the door with a flourish as if he was showing us a palace.
Sophie had a playhouse, made of plastic, in the corner of her room, but it was nothing like what this could be with beanbags and toys, a sofa maybe, bookcases, all of that, and it could be the absolute best thing for her.
Better than her tiny bedroom back home.
I needed to stop overthinking about this. It’s a shed for God’s sake.
“Stay here,” he instructed, and still with the cases in hand, he jogged to the house, disappearing inside. Jogged. With three cases. Muscles bunched as he jumped the step inside, and then nothing happened for five minutes.
“Just you and me then, Sophie.”
“Want down, Daddy,” she demanded, and I went to a crouch as she clambered from my hold and explored the space. It was big, maybe fifteen by fifteen, glass in the ceiling, solid, the kind of place that was a step up from storing a lawnmower, and I could see it had both plumbing and electric. There was a large cardboard box in a corner and Sophie was up on tiptoes and peering in. I went to her side immediately in case there were things in there that she shouldn’t be touching, but the box was empty. The two of us tilted it on its side, and she crawled in. “My new house,” she exclaimed and sat down looking as pleased as any small kid with a box.
A commotion at the door made me glance back, and I did a double take when I saw a whole line of people was carrying furniture. There was a large sofa, a separate chair, a small table, boxes of other things, a rug, a TV, a laptop, even a planter.
“What’s this?”
“We shouldn’t go into the house for a few hours, so I brought the house out here. Is that okay? For Sophie, I mean.” He held up a hand to stop two brawny guys covered in paint from muscling the sofa in.
“For Sophie?”
“Do we need to disinfect things? I should have thought of that, what if—”
“It’s all good.” I kept an eye on it all as the furniture was fitted in snuggly and Sophie sat in the box and peered at everything going on.