Made For Us, page 2
My phone rings from the bedside table, and I see it’s the driver telling me he has arrived. I stand, putting in the diamond earrings my parents gave me for my twenty-first birthday, then grabbing the blue gown and yellow honors sash, along with my phone.
I’m walking down the stairs, and the minute I open the door, I stand here in shock. There is a huge bus in front of my building. I’m shocked as my whole family, and I mean my whole freaking family, is here. I can’t help the tears that are coming down my face. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t be here.” Gabriella is the first to run to me and takes me in her arms. “I’m not even going to tell you the shit show this morning was,” she whispers, and then she’s pushed away from me when Dylan just stands before me.
“How are you even here? Aren’t you in the middle of playoffs?” I ask him, and all he does is smile at me.
“My baby sister is graduating,” he states, “but I have to be back in Dallas by five tonight.” He brings me in for a hug. “So proud of you,” he says, and I cry on his shoulder, just like I did when I was younger. He was twelve, I think, when Gabriella and I were born, and from what I remember, he was my favorite person in the world. Now he stands here with Alex and their kids.
“Can I get a turn?” I hear my grandfather on the side, and all I can do is put my hands on my mouth as he stands here with my grandmother. Both of them just beaming with pride. “Before your father and Uncle Matthew hip check me out of the way.”
I look over his shoulder, seeing my father standing beside my mother as she dabs her eyes. “You did all this?” I ask him, laughing as I hug my grandfather.
“He obviously had help,” my uncle Matthew says from beside him. “Who else could wrangle up all these people?”
I stand here in shock, seeing all my aunts and uncles. “Now, can we get back on the bus so we can get good seats?” My father claps his hands. “Let’s go, people. Got to get my girl to her ceremony.”
CHAPTER TWO
TRISTAN
“Go-go-go-go,” the coach yells at us, and my leg swings over the board as I get onto the ice, skating back to try to get the puck in the neutral zone. My heart beats so fast it echoes in my ears, just as the sound of my breathing almost feels like it’s in slow motion.
My legs feel like I’ve climbed Mount Everest five times, but the adrenaline in my body tells me to push harder. We are in triple overtime in game seven of the Stanley Cup finals. The line changes that usually go forty seconds we are putting down to thirty seconds to give all of us a chance to rest. But it hasn’t been working. Both teams are fucking exhausted, but this is what you fight for all year. The Stanley Cup is somewhere in this building, just waiting to be hoisted up. The big question is, which team is it going to be?
“Change,” the coach yells, and I skate over to the bench, swinging my leg back over, my legs almost giving out when I sit down. I try to focus on my breathing, working to get it back to normal. I reach out, grabbing a green Gatorade bottle and spraying water in my mouth before looking up at the Jumbotron. There are two minutes and seventeen seconds left of the triple overtime. Both teams have given it all we have.
I lean forward, my eyes watching everything happening on the ice. The feeling you want so much to help and you want so much to be the one who helps bring your team to that place is like the biggest monkey on my back. My legs start to shake now with nervousness as another line change is done. “We are going to try something different,” the coach says, coming over to me as I sit next to my defense partner, Ben. “We are putting Grant in for Ben’s place.”
I look at Ben, who looks at me. “If there is anyone who will take my place, it’s going to be Cooper. He’s the best defensive player.” I nod, agreeing with him. This season has been the best of my life, if I’m honest. I finally found my footing, which is crazy since I’ve been with this team for eight years. I was drafted to the team at eighteen and picked fourth overall. I thought I would be drafted and then immediately put on the team. I wasn’t. You had to earn your spot, so for two years, I busted my ass to earn my spot.
Fighting for your spot is different than assuming you will have it. It makes getting on the team so much sweeter. Every single year, I trained hard and worked my ass off to make sure I belonged on the team. The whole team is filled with superstars, so I had to definitely keep up with them.
“Stone,” the coach yells for Dylan, who looks back at him. “I want your line on there with Monti and Grant.” A couple of eyes look back at the coach and then at each other. I’m sure everyone is wondering what in the world the coach is thinking. “Grant, you good to play back?” I’m sure the only thing on everyone’s mind is, don’t fuck this up.
“Yeah,” Cooper says as we get up and make the line change. Not fast enough because the other team skates into the zone. It takes a second for us to get into position, but not before they get a shot at the net. My eyes fly to the little round black puck. The whole time, I hold my breath, hoping if they do score, I’m not the one on the ice. You always want to be on the winning line, but you also never ever want to be on the line that gets scored on. Even though no one ever blames you, you have enough blame inside yourself to go around. Steven, our goalie, sticks his leg out, and it bounces off his pad. I quickly get to the puck first, and the five of us now hustle back toward the other end. Cooper playing back by me, with Michael, Dylan, and Xavier skating ahead of us.
I take my time to skate up, taking the puck out of the zone, looking over at Michael and passing it to him. The three forwards skate against the two defensemen in front of them. I stay back at the center ice until they get into the zone, making sure I’m on it if the puck is intercepted. Monti skates up right along Michael and Dylan. Cooper stays back with me on the opposite side. His eyes watch the play at hand. Michael passes the puck to Monti, but Dylan skates up and intercepts it, just like the play we did in practice a couple of days ago. He skates into the zone, rushing for the goalie. The three forward players are all around him, leaving Monti empty. Monti glides closer to the goalie, who is not even watching Xavier. He’s watching Dylan. He slides over to the corner to make sure he’s got it covered, but Dylan passes the puck so fast to Xavier that there is no time for the goalie to slide across to the other side. The puck hits the center on Xavier’s stick, and he slaps it toward the goal, making the goalie slide across the ice to the other side. Everything feels like it’s going in slow motion, the puck suspended in air as it flies to the back of the net. The horn fills the arena, but it’s drowned out by the crowd banging on the glass behind the net. I throw my stick down, and my gloves fly above my head as I scream at the top of my lungs. We did it! I can’t even think right now. Xavier is the first to jump into the air with Michael, who jumps with them. Dylan skates to the net to grab the puck before joining them, followed by Cooper and me.
It takes a split second before the rest of the team surrounds Xavier as we celebrate with each other. “We did it!” somebody says over and over again, the whole team in a circle jumping up and down.
“Who’s got your back?” Cooper yells.
We chant back to him, “I’ve got your back.”
It was a little thing we started at the beginning of this year when Xavier signed with the team. He came from a team that didn’t have his back and the team banded together to make sure he knew he wasn’t in this alone. “Who’s got your back?”
“I’ve got your back,” we all yell.
The crowd's roar is even more deafening when they know we are doing our chant, something the audience has also come to enjoy. Winning the games in the playoffs is always amazing, but when you get to win in your arena, with the same people who cheer you on all year long, it is beyond words. I’m not even thinking about the thirty thousand fans outside now celebrating.
We stand together as a group, as we did all year long, before breaking and skating to the middle of the ice to shake hands. Gloves are scattered over the ice, helmets thrown off, sticks tossed to the side. I take a second to finally look up where I know my girl is. Penelope. With her hair in a ponytail, wearing my jersey as she jumps up and down clapping her hands. The fullness in my chest is off the charts as the tears start to sting at the back of my eyes. The emotions are all over the place. I hold up my hand to her, hoping she sees me.
I see my mother from the side lean down and whisper something in her ear. Then her eyes find mine, as she holds up her hand like mine, right before she blows me a kiss. I pretend to grab it and place it at my heart. This little girl, who is eight years old, weighs about fifty pounds, and is almost four feet tall owns me right down to my bones. She smiles so big at me, and then I see her walk over to Abigail, and my heart stops beating in my chest as I watch the two of them together.
Abigail stops what she is doing right away to lean down and listen to what she is saying. Penelope points at me, and I just stand there and hold up my hand again. Abigail smiles and waves as she puts her arm around Penelope and kisses her head. I shake my head away from the thought that I’m jealous of the kiss my daughter just got.
Instead, I skate to the middle of the ice, getting in line, and shaking the other players' hands. I look over to the side, seeing them opening the Zamboni door, where they are rolling out the red carpet and setting up the tables for the MVP of the playoffs, as well as the Stanley Cup.
I finally get to the end of the line and skate over to the bench, grabbing a Stanley Cup hat. I look over and see Chase, the team doctor and one of my best friends, leaning against the side with a matching hat on his head. He comes over to me with a smirk on his face. “Well, would you look at that.” He takes his hat off his head and points at it. “Stanley Cup Champions.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Is that what it says, Doc?” I joke with him, putting the hat on top of my head
“Great freaking game.”
“It was a Xavier,” I tell him, and he comes over and taps my shoulder.
“It’s like you are all grown up now,” he teases me like he always does.
When he joined the team, I had just turned twenty, and then I got hurt. He really stood by my side through it all. He worked right alongside me, and then I found out about Penelope, and to be honest, he was the big brother I never had. I knew if I ever needed him, he would be right there beside me and vice versa.
I hear chatter beside me when Cooper, Chase’s brother, teases Xavier. “The hero of the game. I still don’t like you kissing my sister.” That makes me laugh even harder.
“Who is going to tell him that I’m sure he does more than kiss her?” I say loudly, and Xavier looks at me and smiles.
“Yeah, I do,” he confirms, putting on his own cap. Having Xavier on the team has been one of the best experiences I’ve had. He is one hundred percent so open about everything that it makes you be open as well. It was hard to come in sometimes and not be okay but pretend to be okay because you never really want to burden people. Once he was here, it was so refreshing to come in and be like ‘I’m so fucking tired,’ and you also found that a lot of other players were feeling the same.
I hear the president of the NHL, Paul, speak, and then the boos start. “Looks like it’s about that time,” I say, looking over at Xavier, who just smiles.
“It’s about that time for us to raise the Cup,” he says, and we skate over to the rest of the team.
“Congratulations to Dallas on yet another Stanley Cup win,” Paul starts, and the crowd goes wild. “The award for the most valuable player of the playoffs. This person has shown perseverance on and off the ice. He is one of the top leading scorers in the playoffs, and he sure scored the big one tonight. Your award winner, Xavier Montgomery.”
The minute I hear Xavier’s name, I look over at him, putting my fist in the air and screaming, “Go get it!”
He skates over, grabbing the trophy as Cooper puts his arm around me and leans in. “Got to say, you’re a good wing partner.”
I shake my head. “I think I’m the one who should be saying this since I was the one who was actually playing where I was supposed to be playing.”
He just laughs at me as I take in the scene before me. Xavier is giving an interview as I
look around and see the crowd on their feet, their phones in their hands as they capture this moment. Looking over, I see Penelope is now with my father, who holds her in his arms. My mother stands beside my younger sister, wiping away the tears from her face. She looks at Penelope, who just puts her head back on my father’s shoulder.
I look over at Nico, who catches me looking and smiles at me with a nod. When he pulled me into his office some six years ago, I thought he was going to tell me he was thinking about trading me. I thought my injury was taking too long to heal, even though I was on the ice when he pulled me off. I thought for sure he wasn’t interested in waiting. What I wasn’t expecting was to be ushered over to a lawyer’s office.
The last thing in the world I thought I would hear was that I was a father and I had a baby girl who was two. I sat there speechless as I listened to them tell me the mother of my child had died. I held my breath as I was asked if I recognized her, and I was ashamed that I didn’t. I was a young kid on top of the world, I was with women, and I didn’t even know their names, and to be honest, they probably didn’t know mine. But they did know I played hockey, which is the only thing they actually cared about.
Even when they showed me a picture of her, nothing rang a bell. But when they showed me a picture of Penelope, it was like I was looking into my sisters’ eyes as well as my own. I knew right then and there that she was mine. I did the DNA test right away, but I also made them bring me to her. Chase was right there beside me, telling me it was going to be okay.
They had told me she was hurt, but she would be fine. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I walked into the room. It will be forever engraved in my memories, looking at her sitting in the middle of the bed—right next to Abigail—who was making her laugh. I knew the minute she looked over at me that I would love and protect this little girl with everything I had. I knew right then and there she was mine. I knew right then and there what they said about the love for a child. A love you can’t explain because there are no words that can do it justice. A love that is unconditional and pure. She looked at me and held out her little hand to offer me one of her Goldfish crackers, and I am not ashamed to say I sobbed like a baby.
Everything after was in warp speed. I called my parents, who came right down. My bachelor pad was now a single dad home. The PlayStation 5 was tucked away and in its place was a pink plastic play kitchen. I also had to live with the guilt I wasn’t there for her. A guilt that was really hard to look past, so I did what I could to make sure every single day she knew how loved she was.
The two of us grew up together, and she is honestly the best thing I’ve ever done in my whole life. Even more than this right here.
I hear Wilson from beside me. “You know what he’s doing tonight?” he says while he looks at Cooper. “He’s going to be sleeping with your sister.” He beams with a smile. “Just like me.” Cooper just glares at him.
“If you say a word,” Michael warns beside Dylan, and I roll my lips, trying not to laugh. “I will throat punch you on the ice.” The minute he says that, I spit out the laughter.
The Stanley Cup comes out, and Cooper skates over as the team's captain. He shakes Paul’s hand as he announces the Dallas Oilers are Stanley Cup Champions.
He takes the Cup, and slowly every single person gets their chance with it. I’m not even going to lie. I did a quick turn and then turned to look over to see if Penelope was here.
I see her finally standing behind the bench, holding on to Abigail’s hand. “There he is.” Abigail points at me.
Making my way over to her, she walks onto the ice where the carpet is, the whole time holding Abigail’s hand. As soon as I get close enough, Penelope jumps into my arms and wraps her arms around my neck. “You did it, Dad,” she says, putting her hands on my shoulders, and I can’t help the tear that falls down my cheek. “I want you to know I would have been proud of you, no matter what.”
“That is good to know,” I tell her as I lean in and kiss her neck as she squeals, then put her down on the carpet.
I make the mistake of looking at Abigail. God, she has to be the most beautiful human person out there. Every single time I’ve seen her, it’s like she gets even more beautiful, which is impossible. “Congratulations,” she says, and I make another mistake and lean down to hug her. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I take in how perfect she feels for me. I also know that she is so out of my league this crush on her has to be the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. I kiss her soft cheek and look into her green eyes. “You were amazing,” she says with a big smile on her face.
I’m about to say something to her when I see Xavier at the corner of my eye get down on one knee. Abigail gasps and holds my arm, squeezing it. “He’s really doing it,” she declares, and all I can do is look back at Abigail and then Penelope. I am having the second happiest day of my life, and with the exact people I want beside me. Too bad I don’t have the balls to admit that out loud.
CHAPTER THREE
ABIGAIL
“When you said you had a couple of boxes,” my brother, Christopher, huffs, carrying a box inside the house and placing it in the middle of the family room, “what you failed to mention was you have a fuck ton of boxes.” He puts his hands on his hips, looking over at me as I stand in the kitchen. He’s in gym shorts and a Dallas Stanley Cup T-shirt. He’s wearing one black flop and a white flop on the other foot, and I don’t even think he’s noticed that he’s a mess.
“I’m moving into my house.” I try not to laugh at him as he looks up at the ceiling and breathes in and out. “What did you think I had… three boxes?”
