Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
We painted for around forty-five minutes, Joey whipping out three completed canvases. One of them was a picture of me playing hockey that said, “Mavriks ar the best.” It was definitely going to be hung up in my apartment.
“You like it?” I said, flipping my canvas around to show him.
He put a palm to his forehead and laughed. “What is it?”
I furrowed my brow as I glanced down at the face I’d painted, which had tiny eyes, hair going in every direction, and ears that were two different sizes.
“It’s you, my dude,” I said. “Can’t you tell? It looks just like you.”
“Uncle Boone, you’re one of a kind.”
He’d heard that comment from Jolie, and now he repeated it all the time, whether it was relevant or not. She was so good with him, always snuggling with him and reading stories together. She’d always tell him how smart and kind he was. I’d never realized before how important it was to me that my partner be great with kids.
Maybe because I’d never even considered having kids. I wasn’t old enough for that yet. Several of my teammates were becoming dads, though, and between that and taking care of Joey, I’d started to think about when I’d be ready.
Lars Jansson was a dad. I still couldn’t believe it. My big, awkward teammate had gone from zero to one hundred in the nurturing department since meeting Sheridan. Their babies, Clara and Claudia, had been born the day before yesterday, and he was spamming the Mavericks group text with photos of his kids already.
“You look thoughtful,” Emma said as we waited in the buffet line to grab something for lunch.
“I met someone.”
She waited for me to say more, but I just shrugged.
“Come on, since when are you shy, Mikey? Tell me about her.”
I looked over my shoulders again, irrationally paranoid that Coach would jump out and bust me at the mention of Jolie’s name.
“She’s my coach’s daughter. Jolie.”
Joey was in the buffet line between us, and he frowned at the woman who had just scooped food onto his plate.
“Don’t be stingy with the mashed potatoes,” he said.
Emma’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Joey! That is not how we talk to people.”
He looked over at me, apparently thinking I was going to bat for him, but I shook my head.
“Can I have more, please?” he asked.
The woman serving the food fought a smile as she added more potatoes to his plate. “How about some gravy, hon?”
“Sure.” Emma elbowed him and he added, “Please.”
She gave me a look.
“I don’t know where he picked that up,” I said.
“How are you managing him? With hockey and all?”
“He hangs out with my teammate Wes’s wife, Hadley. They’ve got two kids he loves to play with.”
“Benny calls Uncle Boone Uncle Poon,” Joey interjected.
“Okay, let’s not say that word here,” Emma whispered to him.
“What word? Poon?”
I held in my laugh and put a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, that word. Don’t say it again, okay?”
“Okay.”
I went back to my conversation with Emma.
“And Jolie takes him places and hangs out with him a lot, too.”
Joey looked up at his mom, beaming. “She bought me eight books at the bookstore, and a cookie, and hot chocolate.”
“That’s so nice, baby. I hope you said thank you.”
He nodded. “I did. Jolie says I’m the kindest boy she’s ever known.”
Tears formed in Emma’s eyes and she waved a hand in front of her face. “Okay, so I like her a lot. Are you guys serious?”
I sighed. “We can’t be. I’m only here for a couple more months at the most, and she’s finishing up school and then getting a job. She’s worked hard to get where she is.”
“Can’t she get a job in Nashville?”
The thought had definitely crossed my mind, but it didn’t feel right to ask her that. Jolie had worked every bit as hard toward her career as I had, if not harder, and I didn’t want her settling for a job when things were still new with us.
“Are you afraid to ask her?” Emma said.
“Not afraid, just…I don’t know. I guess we’ll see what happens.”
“You seem happy.”
I pictured the redhead with legs for days who fueled my fantasies and made me laugh. Yeah, I was happy. But I was also a realist. Things with us depended completely on where she ended up because I had to go to Nashville.
We ate lunch and then Emma and Joey had a session with her counselor. Joey went to a playroom with some other kids after that so Emma and I could have a session together.
She was committed to her recovery. I could see the determination in her face and hear it in her voice. Being a better mom was her goal, and she was laser-focused on it.
“I’m proud of you,” I told her when it was time for me and Joey to go. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”