There was no such thing in hockey, though. You battled through everything—injuries, grief, family drama, whatever it was. We didn’t have the option of time off in fucking January. We were also having an incredible season, leading the league in wins, points, and goals scored. If we could win one more, we’d break Pittsburgh’s record of seventeen wins in a row, but I didn’t know how we’d do that on a night like tonight.
Hell, I didn’t know any fucking thing right now. I didn’t know how I’d survive without my best friend. I didn’t know how the hell I was going to raise his two babies. And I really didn’t know how I’d get on the ice every night trying to lead this team like he did—because no one could do that. Ben was the whole damn package. Smart, skilled, and a leader in every sense of the word. He could mentor the rookies, bond with the veterans, and talk a guy in a scoring slump off the ledge. Even the refs loved him.
I had neither the patience nor the people skills Ben had, so while I was a leader because of my scoring ability and experience, I didn’t do as well with the serious one-on-one chats with teammates. If I were honest, I probably could do it, but had never been in a position where I had to. Until now.
“Listen up, boys.” Our head coach, Malcolm “Grizzly” Gizzard, came in and shut the door behind him. He scratched the long, bushy beard that had given him his nickname, and looked around, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t have a pep talk for you tonight. I don’t have scoring tips or threats or promises. Basically, all I’ve got are facts. Fact one. We’re on a seventeen-game win streak and we’ll break Pittsburgh’s record if we can win it tonight. Fact two. We’re in first place overall in the league by a long way, which bodes well for our playoff chances. I don’t know how to get past this game, the first one without Ben. So all I’m going to say is to play it for Ben. Play hard. Play smart. Dig deep. Don’t let all the background noise get inside your heads. Now let’s go.”
We all got to our feet but there was a heavy weight dragging us down. I could see it in the way the guys moved, the downcast expressions on their faces, even their body language. It was a reflection of my own mood, so I understood it, but this wasn’t good for team morale. We had a lot at stake both personally and professionally, and we couldn’t just roll over like this. Ben would be pissed.
“All right, let’s see some hustle, you guys!” I called out as we headed down the tunnel toward the ice for the warm-up. “Let’s go!”
I felt a tiny spark of excitement as my feet hit the ice but as I looked around and realized Ben wasn’t there, the unexpected wave of grief made me stumble.
Fuck.
This wasn’t going to go well at all.
And it didn’t.
We didn’t just lose, we lost spectacularly. 8–0. Our winning streak was over and we were a dejected lot as we filed back into the locker room. The press was waiting for us and even though it was a shitty thing to do, I ducked out and hit the shower, leaving it to Nash and the others. I felt like a coward, but I snuck out when I finished dressing and headed home. Maybe in a few days I’d be able to handle it all, but the idea of being asked about Ben and bursting into tears on camera was more than I could stand.
I let myself in through the garage and went in search of my teammate’s wife, Nina Laughlin. She’d offered to help me out this week until Hadley got here, and I found her reading a magazine on the living room couch. She looked up as I came in and gave me a knowing smile.
“Rough night, huh?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “How are the kids?”
“They’re in bed. I had to read Annalise six bedtime stories and lay with her until she fell asleep. Benny’s been down since eight so he’ll probably be up again at midnight.”
“Yeah.” I gave her a weak, but grateful, smile. “Thanks again for doing this tonight.”
“Lauren was my best friend here in St. Louis. She’d kill me if I weren’t here for you and the kids.”
“Well, I appreciate it.”
“Okay, so a couple things we need to discuss.” She paused. “There’s only enough breast milk left for about two days. Lauren was planning to start weaning him soon, so she hadn’t been pumping as much.”
“Seriously?” I’d been so focused on getting through this week, I hadn’t paid attention to how much was in the freezer. “That’s just great. I guess now I need to grow breasts?”
She chuckled but it was without humor. “No, but you’re going to have to transition him to formula. He’s used to the bottle, thank goodness, so it’ll just be a matter of finding the right formula that doesn’t upset his stomach. I have suggestions, but you might want to call the pediatrician…”
“Jesus.” I could change diapers, brush Annalise’s hair, and give both kids baths, but I had no idea about that kind of thing. Formula and feeding and freakin’ breast milk. This was a nightmare.
“I know it’s hard,” she said softly. “But Hadley will be back soon and I’m here. We’ve got your back. Me, Drew, the team, the rest of the WAGs. All you have to do is call.” Her husband Drew was our starting goalie.
I was grateful for her and the others, but I wasn’t ready to let go of the fantasy that Ben and Lauren were coming back. That this had been nothing but a bad dream.
Because I really, really wanted to wake up.
Chapter Four
Hadley
Coffee. Coffee would make everything better.
I kept telling myself that as I changed Benny out of his wet sleeper, putting him in a dry diaper and a clean outfit before feeding him a bottle, all while answering Annalise’s nonstop questions about what her parents were up to in heaven this morning.
I’d gotten back to St. Louis yesterday evening after packing up my entire apartment, working day and night while I was there and only catching a few hours of sleep a day. I sold most of my furniture, moved a few things into a friend’s garage for storage, and then drove back here in Ben’s Cadillac Escalade, which I’d taken to New York so I could fill it with my belongings for the trip back.
Every day since Ben and Lauren died had been exhausting and emotional. I wasn’t just leaving my apartment behind when I’d pulled into the driveway of their posh suburban St. Louis home yesterday, but my life. Not a single day had passed since their deaths when I didn’t cry and wonder if I could really do this. If I could really live this new life. My boss had reluctantly agreed to let me work remotely for now, but seriously…work? Even if I could find the time in between caring for two living humans, how would I sort through pitches from writers about doing your own manicures or decluttering your life? I had no focus and I was exhausted.
“Is there dancing in heaven?” Annalise asked me as we walked into the kitchen and I put Benny in his high chair, buckling his seat belt and putting a couple of toys on the tray for him.
“Absolutely. Dancing anytime you want, and singing, too.”
“Anytime?” Annalise smiled gleefully.
“Anytime.”
“After bedtime?”
“Yes.” I smoothed a hand down her dark curls. “You can get out of bed and dance in heaven if you want to, and you can turn the music up as loud as you want.”