“We better get going, Twinkies,” Brody said excitedly. “There’s a lot of candy out there to claim.”
“Wait, one more pic. Zach, you wanna take one with Lucy and Piper?”
Zach nervously rolled his top lip in between his teeth. “I would love it, if you guys wouldn’t mind.” He pointed to Brody and me.
I took my phone from him and stepped around front.
“Have at it.” Brody stepped to the side.
After the picture of Zach and the girls, Lucy jumped up and down. “We need one of all of us, Mommy! One more!”
I looked up at Brody and bit my lip nervously before glancing over at Zach who had shoved his hands in his pockets and seemed beyond uncomfortable with the prospect.
“Uh…” I stalled, trying to decide how to deal with the awkward situation.
“Come on.” Brody walked over behind the girls again. “I have long arms. I’ll try and get everyone in. Let’s go.”
Zach looked at me and shrugged as a small smile cracked his lips.
Why the hell not?
I squeezed in between Zach and Brody.
We snapped a few more pictures and were out the door.
Two hours of walking door-to-door and the adults were complaining more than the kids.
“Do they always have this much energy?” Zach yawned.
“Unfortunately, yes.” I laughed. “They never stop moving.” They’re going to have enough candy to last them until next Halloween.” Zach shook his head as they ran past us to the next house.
“Not after the candy tax,” Brody joked.
Zach turned and frowned at him. “Candy tax?”
“Yeah. Once the kids go to bed, the parents get to raid the bags and pick out their favorites as a tax for walking all night.”
Zach threw his head back and laughed. “I think I’m gonna like the candy tax.”
Lucy and Piper looked up, saying something to the older man who had just dropped candy in their bags. As they waved good-bye and ran down the sidewalk toward us, I stopped them. “What were you saying to that man?”
“Oh!’ Lucy shrugged. “He asked if that was Brody Murphy on the sidewalk and we told him yes, that we have two dads and Brody is one of them.” She grinned.
“You told him that?” I blurted out.
“Yeah, lots of people asked about Brody and we told all of them that he was one of our two dads.” Piper said proudly. “Come on, Lucy!” They linked hands and sprinted off for the next house.
Brody, Zach, and I stood frozen on the sidewalk with our mouths open.
“Did she just tell people—” Zach stopped halfway through his sentence and looked at Brody and me.
“I believe she did.” Brody laughed hard. Zach and I followed suit.
“Oh my God,” I said as my laughter died down. “I’m so sorry. People are going to think you and Zach are…”
He grinned and shook his head, chuckling. “Andy’s going to have a good time explaining this one to the tabloids on Monday.”
8 months later…
Today is June 24th.
Two months ago today, my team was knocked out of the play-offs by the fucking Chicago Blackhawks, once again. Despite my rough start to the season, I ended it with more wins and more saves than any other season in my career.
Yesterday, Andy called and told me he had a contract offer for me, but he wouldn’t tell me from what team. I had no idea if I was still going to be Minnesota Wild’s goalie next year or a Florida Panther. He didn’t want to tell me over the phone, so I was going into his office to meet with him.
Today is also Kacie’s birthday. She’s turning twenty-five years old. She’s the most mature and selfless twenty-five-year-old on the planet. When I scroll through Facebook, most of the girls I went to high school with are still pretending to be drunk airheads to impress a guy or posting stupid selfies of themselves in their bathrooms. Kacie has been a single mom for years, though she doesn’t call herself that anymore. Between me and Zach, who has been spending more and more time with the girls lately, she’s anything but alone. She passed her exams with flying colors and has been working in the labor and delivery unit of Roger’s Memorial Hospital since shortly after she graduated. She works three twelve-hour shifts a week, and while that’s been a huge adjustment for us, we’ve gotten good at going with the flow.
And thank God for that because I had no idea what was going to happen at this meeting with Andy. He told me to come by at nine o’clock. I looked at my phone.
9:12 a.m.
I was stalling. I really didn’t want to hear that the Wild was letting me go, and the last thing in the whole world I wanted to do was give Kacie that news on her birthday. But we’d promised each other: no more withholding information. And we hadn’t. Not so much as a blip on the radar in the eight months since our Hell Week, as she called it.