Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
She brushes by me, but before she closes the door she looks back, her grin positively evil. “I know what you keep in there.” The door clicks shut and locks.
“I will one hundred percent embarrass the hell out of you with a pro-self-exploration talk, if you’re not careful,” I call through the door. It’s so hard to be her sister and her pseudo mom.
I change into coaching attire and pad to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. While I assemble fruit and yogurt parfaits for me and the girls, I call my dad.
“Hey, Lexi. How’s everything going?” he asks.
“Hey, Dad. Everything’s good,” I lie. “How about you? Did you get the pictures I sent of the girls’ rooms?”
“I did! They look great! Did they like their housewarming gifts?” he asks.
“Callie is in love with her new bed, and Fee loves her art station. It was completely over the top and unnecessary, but we all appreciate it.” My dad insisted on paying for a moving service, and he mined me for information on what I thought the girls would like or need for their new bedrooms. He bought Callie a hockey-themed bedroom set and a professional art desk for Fee. He also bought us brand-new, very expensive living room furniture. I’m used to his extravagant gifts. But since my mom passed away, I find I’d rather have more time with him than things. His life is busy, though. Being a fancy lawyer isn’t a job, it’s a lifestyle.
“I’m so glad. How are you settling in? How are the girls handling the change?”
“Condo living is an adjustment, but Fee loves her new arts school, and Callie’s enrolled in an after-school hockey program, so I’ll take the wins where I can get them.”
“And the new job? It’s going well? That exhibition game win the other night was clean. Lots of positive press for you.”
His pride bolsters me. “Thanks. It’s been great so far. Lots to learn, but management is super supportive, and the team is amazing.” The only catch is having slept with the goalie.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m proud of you. You set a goal, and you achieved it.”
I smile. It doesn’t matter that I turn thirty next year; his approval matters—now more than ever since he’s the only parent I have left.
“It’s the opportunity of a lifetime,” I admit.
“Just maintain your professionalism, and you’ll do great,” he says. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
How disappointed would he be if he knew the truth? But three years ago, I never imagined I’d be here. “How’s work? How’s Jacqueline?”
“Work is good, and Jacqueline is also good. She says hello.”
“Tell her I say hello back.”
“We’ll come to a game once the official season starts. Or maybe I’ll come on my own, depending on her schedule,” he amends.
“Whatever works. I’ll get you good seats,” I offer. It would be better if Jacqueline didn’t come. She’s not a bad person, but she doesn’t have a maternal bone in her body, and she’s about as interested in hockey as I am in hanging out with her lawyer friends.
We end the call, and I finish making breakfast.
My dad and Jacqueline are both career-focused and at the same firm, which is why their relationship works. I only see my dad a couple of times a year, and our visits typically include a sporting event that he works through, a distracted dinner, and a promise to spend more time with me next time.
I was barely two when my parents split, so I don’t remember them together. But my mom was always focused on what she didn’t get in the divorce, a.k.a. money. Eventually she met my stepdad, who doted on her and gave her everything she ever wanted. She expected to be taken care of, felt entitled to have her every whim provided for. That drove me to make my own way, and it was one of the reasons I never tried to contact Roman after our weekend together. He would have realized I’d known who he was. I didn’t want to ruin that for either of us. Or for him to think I wanted something from him—expected something.
Back then I’d been coaching junior hockey. High level, but I was working to find my place in the sport. It was only a month later that I scored the job with the Ontario League. I made it here on my own merit.
Fee appears in the kitchen, phone in hand, dressed in all black, doing her best fair-haired Wednesday Addams impression. She used to wear bright colors and have the sunshiney personality to match, but the last year has been hard on her. I don’t get on her case, even though sometimes her “dark” phase worries me.
“Are you reading your Lord of the Rings fanfic?” I ask.