Page 32 of The Big Puck

He stands, watching me, his scowl taking a softer, more concerned turn.

“I know you want to help. I appreciate that. I’m not trying to be mean.” He shoves a hand through his hair.

I snort. I don’t tell him I wish I didn’t find him so attractive or that we didn’t have some kind of crazy spark between us that has to be at least partly responsible for making it hard for him to relax at home.

His eyes flash with alarm. “I’m not. It’s just that…I’m busy. If you want to be helpful, let me concentrate on hockey and the team. That’s what I want most—need. It would be helpful if you left me to my work in the evenings.”

“So you can relax and not spend your energy dealing with me?”

He gives me a good study, then nods. I see the apology in his eyes, and I’m betting that even expending the effort to find the words to smooth things over is too much for him right now.

“I’d still like the text updates about Krissy.” His expression is far from a smile, and his mouth is still turned down slightly as if he hates making the admission.

And that’s all I need. One small speck of encouragement, of progress, of acknowledgment that I’m doing something right for him, some communication from me that he appreciates.

* * *

I text, sending a pic of Krissy dressed in a new yellow flower dress that I found, which almost matches the one I have. I’m hoping to get some kind of response from him, and I wait as I sweep the kitchen floor while holding her and making it a game. I kind of feel like Cinderella sweeping the floor with the cartoon animals cavorting around and wonder if I should break out into song when my phone pings.

Putting the broom aside, I check the message.

Spence: really? poor Krissy.

Spence: I was kidding. U no that right?

I laugh because I honestly wasn’t sure.

Me: okay. I’ll put the bottle of pills down for now. Do u want me to bring Krissy by for lunch?

Spencer: No. working lunch

Me: okay. I’ll keep pics coming

Nothing. No little dots bubbling, no more pings when I put my phone down. Nothing but a great big sigh coming from deep down inside me. I’m wistful more than discouraged.

“Let’s forget about your daddy, Krissy. Let’s have some fun for ourselves.”

We’re out for a walk in the neighborhood when my phone pings, and knowing better, there’s no jump of anticipation that it might be Spencer. It’s Jason texting to say he found a cool condo, and Sabien agreed to room with him.

Sabien? His roommate? WTF? Concern tumbles in my belly. Am I responsible for this drastic plan? He doesn’t have me staying with him now, and that was our original plan. Checking the time, I figure they’re eating now, so I call him back right away.

As soon as he answers, I say, “A roommate?”

He snorts, and there’s a muffled sound like he’s swallowing food. “Hello, Lainey. Jesus—”

“Well?”

“You know I’m better off with company.”

Guilt floods me because I was supposed to be his company. I can’t fault him for wanting a roommate, can I? “But a rookie, J?”

He laughs. “We all gotta start somewhere. Speaking of rookies, how are you doing with the rookie daddy-coach.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “Rookie daddy-coach? Who dubbed him that?”

“Me. The locker room loves it. But don’t you dare tell him.”

“Right. He’s supposed to be off-limits in our conversations. The Chinese wall is now broken.”