Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Once I've made it into my car, tears roll down my cheeks, the kind of happy relief that only comes from doing something that seemed impossible in the beginning. My chest unravels in a way that's almost dizzying, and hope flares to life in the heart that he tried to break.
I get myself together, and head toward the practice arena, knowing Dad will be there. This is the last piece of business on my big-girl agenda today.
I find Dad in his office, his usual haunt if practice isn't actively happening, and smile at him as I knock on his open door.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, sweetheart?” he asks, waving me in to take a seat across from him. “Should we order some lunch?” He shoves his tablet to the side, whatever he’d been working on forgotten as he gives me his full attention.
It almost makes me want to cry again, the instant support I have from him, but I manage to swallow it down and take a deep breath.
“I'm not sure you'll want to eat with me after I tell you what I need to tell you,” I say.
Dad's smile falls, his mustache drooping in the way it does when he frowns. “Are you in trouble?” he asks. “Are you hurt?” His eyes dart over me like he can see or detect any unknown ailment, some parent superpower he thinks he has.
“I'm perfectly healthy,” I say. “And I guess it'll be up to you if I'm in trouble or not.”
Dad studies me, then leans back in his chair.
“I didn't intend for it to happen,’ I start off. “But I can no longer deny that I may have…sort of…fallen in love with one of your players.”
A rumbling laugh tumbles from Dad's lips, so much so that his shoulders shake. He lightly smacks the edge of his chair and blows out an exaggerated breath. “Is that it? Whew, from the way you were acting, I thought you’d stolen the Zamboni and went on a joy ride or something.”
Shock ripples through me as I gape at my father.
He clears his throat, fastening a serious look on his face again. “Sorry, honey,” he says then shrugs. “It's just that I'm your dad, and you haven't really been able to hide anything from me since you were eight and tried to smuggle that wild baby fox you found in our backyard inside your room.”
I shake my head, cringing at the memory of me trying to hide the fox from him. It only lasted about a half hour before he took a tearful me to the nature reserve where we handed the baby fox over. Of course, I knew the creature would be better off, and I’d gotten to go visit him frequently that summer, but it’d been my first real heartbreak. Dad had been there every step of the way, just like he always has been.
“So, you know about Lawson?”
“You haven't really tried to hide it that well,” he says. “You two are like two peas in a pod lately. Plus, the whole hypothetical convo kind of gave it away.”
“But I hang out with Pax and Nash and—”
“I know that, sweetheart,” he cuts me off. “But you don't look at them the way you look at Lawson.”
“Are you mad?”
“Nope.”
“Are you disappointed? I’m the skate coach, after all. This might look bad for the team.”
“Nope, you could never disappoint me. And it won't look bad for the team. You've told me, and I'm sure that you'll tell Mr. McClaren too. And that'll be that. I know you would never allow it to affect your work. Honey, you know how proud I am of you for all you've done, and you can look at our team and know that you've made a difference. Why would you ever think that this would bother me?”
I open and close my mouth a few times, searching for whatever fear had been tangible when I walked in here. But in truth, my father has never given me a reason to believe that he wouldn't support any decision I made.
“You're kind of the best dad ever, you know that right?”
“I try,” he says, doing a little drum beat on his desk. “So what should we order for lunch?”
I laugh softly, the stress and the worry about everything that’s happened lately melting out of me, replaced with this intense happiness that I can barely even describe.
“Whatever you want,” I answer. “I'm buying.”
“Steak and lobster it is,” he jokes, reaching for his phone and pulling up the delivery app. “Oh, and honey?”
“Yeah?”
“Off the record,” he continues. “If he ever hurts you, I'm going to make him skate laps until his legs fall off.”
I laugh, nodding. “I would be surprised if you didn't, Dad.”
CHAPTER 16
LAWSON
I'm just about to grab my gear bag, freshly showered and changed after another losing game, when Coach calls me into his office.