Easy: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance Page 2

  “Let’s go shopping this weekend,” I suggest lightly. “You need some new shorts.”

  Vi shakes her head. “I’ve already got plenty, Aunt Allie.”

  “Yeah, but…you’ve grown a lot since last year.”

  “They still fit.”

  I don’t want to battle with her before work, but I am the adult. “They’re a little short, Vi.”

  “No they’re not.” She laughs. “The school has rules about shorts, and all mine follow the rules. I’m not wearing those shorts that come down to my knees.”

  I can feel my blood pressure rising. My main goal in life is to raise these three children to become high school graduates instead of teen parents with addiction issues. My parents never imagined their oldest daughter would get pregnant at age fifteen, and then again, with twins, at age eighteen. Three kids from two different dads and no interest in raising them. Mom and Dad had to start all over again as parents to do the job themselves. And they were amazing at it, until a car accident took them ten years ago.

  “Can we just…find a compromise?” I ask Vi. “Maybe you could keep some of what you have and get some new ones, too?”

  “New ones I pick out?”

  “Well…”

  She packs a bottle of water and her lunch into her bag, zips it and shrugs it on.

  “Maybe,” she says. “But I’m not dressing like a nun.”

  “I think we can find a happy medium between nuns and those,” I say, gesturing at her shorts.

  She looks down. “They’re not even that short.”

  I cringe. “I know, but they’re so…formfitting.”

  “Aunt Allie, relax. You’re the one always telling me boys don’t have a right to anything because of what a girl is wearing.”

  “I know, I know. But Vi, attention from boys is flattering. And now that you’re in high school—”

  The honk of the bus horn outside our house stops me short.

  “I’m fine, I promise,” Vi says, rushing over to the front door. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” I say, tired even though it’s only 7:40 a.m.

  I used to chat with our cat, Bellatrix, in the ten minutes between the kids leaving for school and me leaving for work. But she passed away last year, and the vet bills from her illness made me decide not to get another pet.

  At least now I have Kelly. She moved to Greentree Falls about six months ago and is the bakery manager at Fox Foods. We became close friends immediately. I’m the daytime shift manager, so our schedules are the same.

  I grab my car keys and my purse and begin my five-minute drive to work, wrapping my damp hair into a low bun as I walk inside the store.

  Fox Foods is jokingly touted by its employees as “the most popular grocery store in Greentree Falls.” It’s an easy feat because it’s also the only one. In a town of only 2,000 people, Fox Foods is a hub of sorts.

  When a big storm blows through, you can bet the local retired men who meet up at the snack bar for coffee every morning as soon as it opens at 5:00 a.m. will be there talking about it. When the city of Greentree Falls raised garbage collection prices a few months ago, carts were stopped in our aisles for long conversations about how awful people thought it was.

  “Morning, Allie,” one of our checkers, Jim, says to me as he walks through the sliding front doors beside me.

  “Good morning, Jim.”

  “How are the kids?”

  “They’re good, thanks for asking.”

  He nods and heads in the direction of the employee break room to get ready for his shift. I head for the small managers’ office, located right behind the staff bathrooms. We hear every flush, and the space is cold in the winter and hot in the summer, but at least it’s quiet.

  “Hey, girl,” Kelly says as I walk in and hang my purse on a hook in the closet.

  “Morning, how are you?”

  As she pours me a cup of coffee, she shrugs and says, “Can’t complain. I did my husband this morning so at least I’ll be able to get to bed at a decent hour tonight.”

  I nod. “I’m already looking forward to bedtime tonight. That damn raccoon woke me up in the middle of the night again getting into the garbage cans.”

  She passes me a cup of steaming coffee in a chipped old mug that has I shop at Fox printed on it, with our store’s grinning, pointy-eared mascot giving a thumbs-up.

  “Hey, have you thought any more about going on a blind date with Ross’ coworker? He says the guy is super nice and wants to meet you.”

  I groan and take a long sip of coffee, trying to figure out how to politely decline again.

  “I’m so busy with the kids,” I say, trying to look sorry.

  “Don’t bullshit me, Allie.” Kelly folds her arms and glares at me. “It’s been four months since you broke it off with Hairy Larry.”

  I roll my eyes. “I never should have told you about his back hair.”

  “It’s time to move on, okay?”

  “I’m not stuck on Larry Wright in the least,” I say, laughing as I sort through employee time cards. “I was relieved when we broke up. And I like being on my own.”

  “Do you really, though?”

  “I do.”

  “Maybe you could just meet Dave. Just once. You might be surprised.”

  “Have you met him?”

  Kelly shakes her head. “But Ross says he’s really great.”

  “Ross thinks watermelon Oreos are great,” I remind her.

  “Allie, stop being so stubborn. Think about it, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “You’re lying.”

  I smile. “I don’t want to go on a blind date, Kel.”

  “Well, beggars can’t be choosers. Didn’t you say you’ve only had one other relationship besides Larry since high school?”

  “So what? I’ve got my hands full with the kids.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  I shuffle the time cards into a neat pile and stand up. “I’m good, okay? I like my life just like it is. I can spread my stuff all over the bathroom counter and no one cares. If I want to go to bed early, I don’t have to give anyone morning sex so I can.”

  Kelly shrugs. “Let me know when you decide to stop being afraid.”

  I recoil. “Afraid? What, from what I just said, makes you think I’m afraid of a relationship?”

  “Nothing. But from what you’ve told me about that guy in high school, I know you are.”

  “I am not.”

  She arches her brows skeptically, and a flare of annoyance makes me dig in my heels.

  “Do I carry around feelings about what happened with me and Erik? I guess I do, and I probably always will,” I admit. “But that was ten years ago. We weren’t meant to be. And I dated Hunter Jackson for almost a year several years ago, and Larry for a few months. I wouldn’t have done that if I was stuck on Erik, would I?”

  Kelly’s expression softens. “All I know is, when you told me about Erik, your face was different than when you talk about Hunter or Hairy Larry. Your voice was, too. I could tell that he meant more to you.”

  My throat tightens. I’m caught off guard by her unexpected, yet completely accurate assessment.

  “He did,” I say softly. “But that was a long time ago.”

  She puts a hand on my shoulder. “I just want you to be happy, Allie. You spend all your time and energy looking out for the kids, and I want you to have someone who looks out for you.”

  “I’m fine, really,” I say, pasting on a smile. “I need to get these time cards taken care of.”

  “See you at lunch?”

  I breeze past Kelly, eager to put distance between me and this conversation. “Yep, see you then.”

  Three

  Easy

  I clench the steering wheel of my rental car, steeling myself. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but damn. So far, coming home is even harder than I was expecting.

  The Dairy Dream has a fresh coat of bright yellow paint and the same crowded lobby whe
re I spent a lot of my teen years. As my eyes take in the details, my heart can only remember it as the place I took Allie on our first date.

  Greentree Falls is a small town, and memories of her are everywhere. I pass the park where our parents took our homecoming and prom pictures and the pizza place where we’d always pick up an extra-large pepperoni and sausage for our movie nights in her parents’ basement.

  I can’t bring myself to pass the high school so I take a little detour to avoid it. Allie is in so many of my memories from three of my four years at Greentree Falls High School. I was a month into my sophomore year, hanging out with friends at a volleyball game, when a dark-haired freshman playing on the varsity team caught my eye. And from that moment on, I never looked away from Allie Douglas. Not until she forced me to four years later.

  Her smile…it’s etched into my mind forever. Allie served an ace during that volleyball game and flashed the most radiant smile I’d ever seen. There was no one else in that gymnasium in that moment. Little did I know then that future events would ruin me.

  I exhale hard, trying to shake off the memories. I’m here for my mom and Aunt Jo, and that’s it. When I have time, I’ll catch up with my friends from high school who still live here. I probably won’t even see Allie, so there’s no reason to get wound up about it.

  Blowing out a breath, I turn up the radio in my rental. The twang of a country singer’s voice makes me turn it right back down. I wish I had my Audi Q7 up here instead of a compact rental I barely fit in.

  My mom’s one of the only people in the world I’d drop everything to help. She and Aunt Jo were pretty much my only family after my parents’ divorce. My dad flew me to whatever country he was working in to visit for a week during summers when I was in high school, but he didn’t even take time off work when I was there, so I hung out alone.

  When I pull up in front of Aunt Jo’s modest two-bedroom bungalow, I look over and see it’s hardly changed in the decade I’ve been gone. The lilac bushes I planted when I was in high school are overgrown and the gray paint I applied to the shutters has faded.

  I’ll put a fresh coat of paint on them while I’m here. Her front porch needs to be power washed and stained, too. I’m not great at sitting around doing nothing, so anything else she wants done around the house will go on my list.

  The one good thing about my dad bailing on our family when I was fourteen was that I learned to take care of all the house and yard maintenance. I did Aunt Jo’s, too. It gave me something else to focus on, which I’ll always be grateful for.

  Aunt Jo’s home projects are exactly what I need to lay low and stay busy while here in Greentree Falls. I would do just about anything to not only avoid seeing Allie, but also to not think about her.

  “There he is,” Mom says, opening the front door as I walk up the sidewalk. “Only took a decade and a broken ankle to get my son to come see me.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “Mom, you see me in Chicago all the time. And remember our trip to London last year?”

  “That’s not the same, baby.” She hobbles aside so I can get through the front door.

  “Mom, you shouldn’t be up,” I tell her as she hugs me.

  “I’ve made it to fifty-six years old without you telling me what to do,” she states. “Don’t think you’re gonna start now.”

  “Erik!” Aunt Jo calls from a hospital bed set up in her living room. “You’re looking handsomer every time I see you.” She squints at me. “Is that a little gray in your hair?”

  “Might be.” I grin and shrug. “I must be getting up there since my mom’s shuffling around like an old lady and my aunt’s bedridden.”

  There’s a second of silence before they both start in on me at the same time.

  “You think that’s cute, huh? Get over here and I’ll show you how well my arms still work,” Aunt Jo yells.

  “Don’t you ever call me an old lady again,” my mom scolds. “I don’t want to hear those words out of your mouth if I live to be one hundred.”

  I put an arm around my mom and help her into a recliner, then go over and hug Aunt Jo.

  “I missed you guys,” I say.

  Aunt Jo balks. “You probably miss your fancy life back in Chicago. You’ve got women all over the place trying to get your attention, boy. We see it in those articles online.”

  “Can’t believe everything you read online Aunt Jo. My two favorite women are right here.”

  She waves a hand dismissively, but the corners of her lips curl up in a smile. “Thanks for coming Erik.”

  “Are you hungry?” my mom asks, trying to stand up on her good foot. “Elsie Carver brought over a casserole; I can heat some up for you.”

  “Mom, no. Don’t get up.”

  “I’m not having anyone wait on me hand and foot,” she says, giving me a look. “I’ll need some help, but I want to do what I can.”

  She’s always been stubborn. But I’m not the high school kid who used to butt heads with her over how late I could stay out. This time, I’m the one telling her what’s best for her instead of the other way around.

  “Sit down, Mom,” I insist. “And if you need to get up, make sure you use the crutches.”

  “I can just hop on one foot.”

  “Yeah, until you lose your balance and break something else when you fall.”

  “Don’t sass me, Erik.”

  I mentally count to ten. She’s so damn exasperating.

  “Mom, the crutches.” They’re leaning against the couch, and I pick them up and set them in front of her.

  “I don’t like them. They make my armpits hurt.”

  “Want me to see about getting you a wheelchair?”

  She recoils. “No, I do not.”

  “They make little scooters with a seat that you can put your knee on and use your good foot to walk with. Maybe we can try that.”

  Mom’s eyes get huge and her brows shoot up. “That’s a damn fool idea. I’m not rolling around on a scooter.”

  “Better get used to these, then.”

  She lets me help her get the crutches positioned, and then she slowly makes her way into Aunt Jo’s kitchen.

  While she warms up the casserole, I catch her up on what I’ve done in the week since our season ended, which isn’t much.

  “Are you still dating that British woman with the hair hanging in her eyes?” she asks as I finish my second plate of food.

  I shake my head. “We were never really dating, we were just talking at a fundraiser and a photographer took our picture and it was reported that we were dating.”

  “Good. She’s too thin, that’s not healthy. And why would anyone want hair in their eyes all the time? You need a woman with good sense.”

  Mom comments on every gossip article and photo she sees online about my love life, but she won’t say a word about Allie. She knows how much our breakup hurt me, and she’s not one to poke at old wounds. So while part of me is dying to know how Allie is, I’m also relieved to know she won’t mention her.

  “I need to use the bathroom,” Aunt Jo calls from the living room.

  Mom meets my eyes in a silent apology. She was planning to do all this stuff for my aunt herself. I just smile, letting her know it’s all good, and take my dishes over to the sink.

  “On my way, Aunt Jo.”

  Between getting her in and out of the bathroom and helping her change into pajamas, it takes me about twenty minutes for her to settle into bed. My mom’s already in the guest room by then, where she’s been staying while caring for Aunt Jo, her crutches leaning against the nightstand.

  “I’ll crash on Aunt Jo’s couch tonight,” I tell her. “Can I have the spare key? Is it still under that rock out front?”

  “I think so.”

  “Okay, get some sleep.” I walk over and hug her. “Do you need anything before I go over to Cade’s to see him for an hour or so?”

  “I think I just need a good night of rest.” She looks up at me and smiles. “Thanks for coming
, son.”

  “Of course, Mom.” I look over at the nightstand to make sure her phone is there. “I’ll just be a couple miles away, so call me if you need anything, okay?”

  “I will.”

  When I make it to the doorway, I look back at her. She looks like she’s already asleep. Despite the whirlwind trip here, I’m happy that this is where I am right now and that I can help my mom when she needs me.

  If she and Aunt Jo had gotten injured during hockey season, I couldn’t have come. And while I could—and would—have hired nursing care for them, I’m glad I get to be the one to care for them. I owe these two women a lot. They’re my family.

  Cade Donovan isn’t family by blood, but he’s like a brother to me. We had lots of good times together in high school, playing hockey and hanging out on the weekends. I’ve invited him to Chicago for games every year since I signed with the Blaze, but when I park in front of his garage and see him stand up from the lawn chair he’s sitting in and grin at me, it feels just like old times.

  “Hey, man,” he says, meeting me in the driveway, holding out his hand for a handshake.

  “Nah, you know you’re getting a hug,” I say, going in for a back-slapping embrace instead. “How’s it going?”

  “Not bad. How are your mom and aunt doing?”

  “They’re both in bed for the night. Thanks for checking on them earlier and helping my mom get home.”

  “No problem.”

  He leads the way into his garage, where there’s music playing on low volume and another lawn chair next to the one he was sitting in.

  “You want a beer?” he asks, opening a refrigerator covered with stickers of logos for national parks.

  “Sure, thanks.”

  We sit down and discuss the end of my team’s season over a couple bottles of Budweiser.

  “Did you watch the first game of the Stanley Cup finals?” Cade asks me.

  “Oh yeah. A bunch of us watched it over at Anton’s house. Hell of a game.”

  “If you guys couldn’t go all the way, I wanted LA to make it to the finals.”

  I shrug. “I like most of the guys on that team, but their goalie is a real asshole.”