“Why are you so nervous?” I ask as I shoot a glance Sam’s way, taking in the way she’s nibbling her bottom lip. I reach across the seat and give her elbow a reassuring squeeze.
From the passenger seat beside me, she slowly turns her head my way, and I scrub my hand over my freshly shaved face, wanting to present my best self to her family.
“You’re Zander Reed, and my dad is going to go ballistic. So are my uncles and cousins.”
I shrug, but I’m not convinced that’s what on her mind. For the last week, ever since we’d hosted a BBQ for my friends, she’s been quieter than unusual.
“Don’t worry about it, Sam. I’m just a guy going to your Fourth of July barbeque. I’m no different than any of the other guys.”
“You’re an NHL superstar. That makes you different.”
“Not to me.” She adjusts the tea towel under the casserole dish full of ribs she cooked at my place, and I redirect the conversation. “Those smell good,” I say. “I can’t wait to dig in.”
“Only my famous BBQ ribs,” she says with a lift of her chin. “And don’t pretend that you haven’t already tasted one. I saw you sneaking one earlier, and you still have sauce on your face.”
I grab the rearview mirror to check. “No, I don’t,” I say.
She’s laughing when I glance back at her. “No, you don’t, and I didn’t see you sneak one, but now I know for sure you did.”
“You’re going to pay for that,” I tease.
“Can’t wait,” she says. “I don’t cook much but these are Dad’s favorites. He’s going to make quite the mess eating them with one hand.”
“What is the doc saying?”
“He’ll be in a cast for a few more weeks, but things are progressing nicely. He’ll be as good as new. Thank God. He gave us a good scare there.”
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Daisy says from the backseat, and kicks her legs out.
“Almost there,” I say, knowing the way from when I drove Sam’s mom home from the hospital last weekend. Sam has dropped by her parents’ place every night this week, and I love how much she cares for them. After her visits, she always ended up at my place, with a good long commute back to her place for work in the morning.
I hate that she has to drive, but it’s easier for us to have Daisy in her own home, and Sam swears she doesn’t mind. During the day, while Daisy is at daycare with Quinn, I’ve been hanging out at Sam’s doing some much-needed repairs to her place. She’d even given me my own key, enabling me to come and go as I please, and she kept her end of the bargain up. Pie every day.
“I want to play with Scotty,” Daisy says.
“She needs a sibling,” Sam blurts out—and then instantly stiffens.
“Sam,” I begin, even though I’m not sure what it is I want to say. Perhaps I want to tell her I agree, that Daisy does need a sibling, but that she also needs a mother…and ask if maybe she’s willing to take on that roll…maybe both. But she’s a girl not interested in relationships, and I’ve been telling her I have serious trust issues.
Do I trust Sam?
“I mean…oh, never mind. I guess I was just thinking about Quinn being pregnant. I think it’s great they want to give Scotty a sibling. I wasn’t suggesting…” She lets her words fall off, and glances over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Daisy. There are going to be lots of kids for you to play with.”
“Yay!” she says and claps her hands.
“Have you given any more thoughts about having a kid?” I ask quietly, and clench my jaw until my muscles are tight. When it comes right down to it, I hate the thought of her going to a clinic. A girl like Sam needs a nice guy, one who will be there for her and her baby.
“A little bit, especially after Quinn telling me she’s pregnant. I think it got my maternal clock ticking.”
I give a tight nod and stare straight ahead. Daisy turns on her iPad and begins to sing along to that alligator song that makes me want to hang myself. I’ll have an earworm all day now. Since we’re unable to talk over the noise, we drive in silence, and when I reach her childhood home and find the driveway full, I pull up to the curb and park. I glance at the house, hear laugher coming from the backyard, and longing pulls at me.
Her house is small, and quaint, and full of love. I want this for Daisy so much.
I want this for me.
“You sure you still want to do this?” she asks, and crinkles that cute little nose of her.
“I’m game, but are you sure you still want me to do this?”
She nods. “I think so.”
I pitch my voice low. “Remember the rules, though.”
Her mouth drops open. “You didn’t tell me there were rules.”
I laugh at her horrified expression. “There are going to be question, lots of questions. If you want your family to get off your back, to show Caleb you’re taken, we have to pretend we’re a couple. A real couple.”
What the fuck am I doing?
Oh, I don’t know, maybe trying it on for size, just to see how it fits.
She flips her hands over. “Well, yeah, I knew we were going to pretend we were together, but—”
“There will have to be touching, Sam. Public displays of affections. That’s what couple do.”
“You…want to touch me, in front of everyone?”
“I always want to touch you. In front of your family or not.”
Pink crawls up her neck, and it’s all I can do not to lean over and kiss her, but I have my daughter in the car and need to be careful.
“We better get in there before they send a search party.”
We all exit the car, and I scoop Daisy into my arms. We go up the small walkway, but Sam comes to an abrupt halt and leans forward slightly, balancing the casserole in her hands as air leaving her lungs in a whoosh.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when she straightens, my stomach tightening at how pale she’s gone.
“Cramps,” she says again.
Unease moves through me. Back in the day, Quinn got irritable and complained of cramps, but I don’t ever remember her nearly dropping to her knees. “Is that normal, Sam?”
“Yes,” she says. “It’s why I’m on the pill.”
“It doesn’t seem to be helping.”
“You’re right. I think I should probably make an appointment.” She blinks and shakes her head. “It passed.”
“You sure you don’t want to go back home and lie down?”
“Mom would kill me if we didn’t come.”
“If at any time you don’t feel well, I’ll take you home, Okay? You just say the word.”
She nods, takes the three steps to the front door, and I pull open the screen door and follow her into her parents’ home. I smile as I take it in again. I’d only gotten a fast glimpse when I’d given Mary a ride home. The place is warm, cozy, with lots of pictures of Sam when she was young. This is the kind of house every kid deserves to grow up in.
“Don’t look at those,” she says as we go down the hall toward the kitchen, where I hear a bunch of women talking and laughing. The sound fills my heart with warmth.
“Look, Daisy. That’s Sam when she was your age.”
Daisy giggles, and Sam shoots me a warning glare. I laugh and follow along, and all heads turn our way when we enter the small kitchen.
“We’re here,” Sam says.
“About time,” her mother says lovingly, then her eyes turn to Daisy and me. “Zander, so nice to see you again.” She walks up to me and puts her hands on either side of Daisy’s face. “And who is this precious girl?”
“This is Daisy. Daisy, say hello to Mrs. Peters. Mrs. Peters is Sam’s mom.”
“Oh, phooey, you call me Mary,” she says, and Daisy touches her cheeks, and squeezes them together in guppy manner. Mary laughs and makes guppy faces, and Daisy giggles.
“You look like Andi!”
“Andi is her goldfish,” I explain.
“I love goldfish,” Mary says. Then, taking me by surprise, Daisy holds her arms out for Mary to take her.
The second she does, an instant bond is created between the two, one so strong I feel it all the way to my core. My throat dries as Mary fusses with my girl and carries her to the table, where many of the others are seated and prepping the food. As Mary offers Daisy a small cookie, tells her about the children outside who can’t wait to meet her, I try to breathe, but can’t seem to pull any air into my lungs.
“Zander, you okay?” Sam asks, her eyes moving over mine.
“Fine,” I say, pulling myself together. “Hey everyone, I’m Zander.” I glance at Daisy, who is lost in conversation with Mary, telling her some story about Scotty—and that’s when it really occurs to me that she no longer has a lisp.
She’ll no longer need visits with Sam—which means our time together is up.
“I’m Sam’s boyfriend,” I blurt out.
A brief moment of silence ensues—save for Daisy telling Mary a dramatic story about something Scotty did at daycare—and then a million questions are thrown at us, like how we met, how long we’ve been together, what our future plans are, and if we plan to have children. These women hold nothing back, and that actually amuses me. Sam has good people in her life, people who truly care for her and her well-being, and that makes me happy.
Sam holds her hands up to cut everyone off. “He’s not here for an interrogation. No more questions. Let the poor man breathe.”
“The guys are outside,” Mary says, gesturing toward the patio doors. “Make sure your father is sitting down before you introduce Zander, we don’t need another emergency trip to the hospital.” Mary turns her attention back to Daisy. “Now Daisy, would you be a dear and help us bring the food outside?” Daisy nods, her curls bouncing. “Do you like hot dogs?” Mary asks.
“With ketchup,” Daisy says.
“Perfect,” Mary says as she beams at my child.
“She’s fine here with mom,” Sam says. “Want to go meet the guys?”
I reach for her hand, a public display of affection—something we don’t ever do, except for the time I gave her a comforting hug at the hospital—and she seems surprised at first, but then she softens beneath my touch, likely remembering the rules. But I can’t say for sure I’m holding her hand because we need to touch for show. No, I’m pretty sure seeing Daisy with Sam’s mother, a woman who would dearly love grandkids and would be so amazing with them, is gutting me from the inside out.
Daisy is missing out on so much.
Sam leads me through the back patio door, and the men are joking and laughing. Some are playing horseshoes, or tossing bean bags with the younger kids, and others are standing around the barbecue, talking sports. Sam’s father—and I only assume he’s her father because he’s in a cast—is alternating between flipping food on the grill and drinking a beer with his free hand.
“Dad,” Sam says, but her voice is drowned out by someone laughing. “Dad,” she says again, a little louder this time.
Her father turns, and his eyes fill with love when they see her. I know the feeling; it’s one I get every time I see Daisy. It brings warmth to my soul as I watch the exchange. His gaze slowly leaves Sam’s and settles on me. He stares at me for a moment, like he’s trying to place me, then a light bulb goes off, and he stumbles.
Sam hurries to him and wraps her arms around his waist.
“Dad, this is Zander. Zander, this is my dad George.”
He puts his hand to his chest—and now I’m a bit worried Mary wasn’t kidding about the heart attack. “Your mother said you were bringing someone but I had no idea it was going to be Zander Reed. The Zander Reed!”
“It’s just Zander Reed, or rather, Zander,” I say, and reach for the man’s hand. He gives me a good firm shake, still staring at me like he can’t believe I’m real.
“Dad, relax,” Sam says, and pinches him. “It’s just Zander.”
George shakes his head to pull himself together as all eyes focus on me. “Where are my manners?” he says. “Come meet the family.” He introduces me to Uncle Don, Charlie, Freddie, Doug and Bill, and I pray to God there isn’t going to be a test. There are too many faces to remember. Then the cousins and children are all introduced, and finally, I meet Caleb.
He has a twisted scowl on his face when he takes my hand, but I keep things polite.
“Nice to meet you, Caleb.”
“I didn’t know Sam was dating.”
I reach for Sam, pull her to me, and her hand goes to my stomach, her touch racing right through me and settling around my heart.
“I see he’s still alive,” Mary says as she comes from the kitchen, breaking the awkward silence. Beside her, Daisy is carrying a small dish that she sets on the table. “This is Daisy, everyone. Zander’s daughter. She’s such a great helper in the kitchen.” Daisy beams up at Mary, and Mary looks like she’s in heaven. The woman really does need grandkids. I guess now I can see why Sam is thinking of a fertility clinic—especially after her father’s scare. Her child would be the luckiest in the world to be surrounded by people like these.
A couple of young girls walk over to Daisy and they take her hands, bringing her to the garden to play. I watch for a moment, my heart so full, I’m sure I’m going to crack a rib.
Just then, George throws his arm around me like we’re old pals.
“Now, let’s talk about last season, son,” he says, and my throat squeezes.
Son?
I haven’t been called son, or felt a part of anything special like this in…forever.
“Dad,” Sam warns.
“It’s fine, Sam,” I say, and when someone puts a bottle of craft beer in my hand, I take a long pull. I check the label and don’t recognize it. “Double hopped IPA. Damn, that’s good.” That’s when I remember George is a minister. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to swear,” I say, and Sam is biting back a smile.
George grins. “No worries, son.” He clinks his bottle with mine. “We both like Sam and we both like the same beer. We’re going to get along just fine. Now, let’s talk about that move you made when playing the Warriors.”
I cast a look Sam’s way, catch her nibbling on her lips.
What is really going on with her? She’s been distracted since last week. Was she worried about me meeting her family, or does she have something else on her mind?
I give her a nod to let her know I’m good, and she saunters off with the other women to set the table.
All the men huddle around me, and for the next half hour, as the food is cooking on the grill, we talk sports. It’s fun, really, and I love that they’re die-hard fans.
“Did you know Sam has never watched a game with me?” George asks, and shakes his head like he can’t understand such a thing.
“She came to the rink last week. Rider, Kane, Jamie and Jonah and I played a game of pickup with a few of the local kids.”
“That’s it. I’m disowning you, Sam,” he calls out, and Sam rolls her eyes. “Let me know next time. I want to come.”
“You were kind of down and out in the hospital.”
“You think that would keep me from a game?”
“No, I suppose not,” I say, and hand him a plate when he gestures for it. I watch him struggle to get the meat from the grill, but I know a man with pride when I see it, so I don’t offer to help.
The food is all laid out buffet style, and the kids come racing over. I kneel down next to Daisy. “What would you like to eat?”
“Oh, I don’t mind helping her,” Mary says. “Now come on, Daisy, let me get you that hot dog with ketchup.”
Daisy slides her hand into Mary’s and trots off with her. I stand there, loving the way Mary is fussing over her. Sam steps up beside me, and when I turn to her, and her dark eyes lock on mine, my entire world shifts.
I want this. I want all of this.
With Sam.
But would she want to be a part of our lives, or would she eventually regret the responsibility of a ready-made family and leave?