I’m not sure if she ever did forgive me, but as I sit here next to her, I realize I have far more to make up for than just with Ella. I need to win my daughter back, too.
“Let’s go hang out at my house then,” I concede, not wanting to push her away by making her try to relive those great times we had together.
♦
It’s not so bad hanging at the house. To my surprise, Lucy didn’t hole up in her room. Instead, she stayed in the living room with me, binge-watching Marvel movies. We engage in a frequent debate—who is the strongest Avenger?
I say The Hulk.
She’s clearly Team Thor, and yeah… she has a little bit of a dreamy-like voice when she talks about him.
Christ, she’s growing up too fast.
We make homemade pizza for dinner, splitting it in half. She’s strictly a pepperoni girl, and I load mine with veggies in addition to pepperoni and crumbled sausage.
As we’re eating at the kitchen table, I ask, “Want to come to the game tomorrow? You can bring friends if you want. Just tell me how many tickets.”
Lucy shrugs, picking a piece of pepperoni off her pizza.
Her reticence doesn’t surprise me. Lucy and Ella used to come to most home games together. Sometimes, if a school event interfered, they’d have to skip. For the most part, though, they were always there to cheer me on.
That changed when Ella and I separated, and she stopped coming. That hurt, too, because it was April and the playoffs were just starting. Lucy would come to some games, usually with a friend and their parents since I’d provide the tickets, but she didn’t come to many.
“Not into hockey anymore?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
“Not so much,” she mumbles, but I don’t buy it.
Pushing my plate a few inches away, I cross my forearms on the table and lean toward her. “Lucy… you begged me to have a party this summer with the Cup so you could invite all your friends. I know you’re still into it.”
And that pleased me. While Lucy didn’t come to all my games, she was there for the final round and was so proud of her old man for winning the Cup championship. But that excitement has fizzled away now the new season has started and I’m back into work mode again.
When she stays silent, I push a little, possibly for my own ego. “Come on, kid. You used to be my biggest fan. You love hockey. Has so much changed in so little time?”
And fuck if I’m not suddenly afraid of that answer. I’m only slightly relieved when she says, “I’m thirteen. My interests have changed.”
“Like what?” I ask curiously, eager to know these things about my daughter.
Lucy works another piece of pepperoni off and ignores my question, nibbling on it while staring at her plate.
“Boys?” I take a guess exaggeratingly in a hysterical, high-pitched tone. “Is it boys? It can’t be boys.”
Lucy snorts, trying not to laugh.
It better not fucking be boys. I’m not ready for that.
Reaching out, I tug gently on a lock of her hair, forcing her to look at me. “You know I love you, right?”
“I know,” she rushes to assure me. She may be moody and have some bitter feelings toward me here and there, but my kid loves me. She’s such a softie—it would kill her to think I might be insecure about it.
“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “I might have done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying, Luce. I want things to be good between us again.”
Her eyes flare with shock. I’ve never come out and admitted my faults, because, well… let’s face it. I’d been far too immersed in my hockey life to realize I’d become a douche of a husband and father at times.
Not all the time, mind you. I will continue to give myself credit for the good things I did, but, in the end, it hadn’t been enough to keep Ella happy.
In the end, Lucy suffered some because of my focus on work instead of family.
Her eyes dart away as if she’s considering something, and I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to open up and pour out her feelings to me. I’m ready for it.
Ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she’s the love of my life.
Lucy’s gaze comes back to me, expression serious.
I brace.
“Can I get a puppy?” she asks candidly without a hint of hesitation in her request.
There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say.
I’m so caught off guard I can’t even think to immediately tell her “no,” which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why she should.
“I know you have allergies, Dad,” she says quickly, eyes sparkling, and I can tell she’s rehearsed this. “But they have medicine. And I’ve watched Samson, so I know how to take care of one.”
“Samson is an adult dog who is well trained,” I point out. We’ve dog sat for Kane’s fiancée’s dog on a couple occasions, once at my house and once at Ella’s. I figured this request might be coming. “Having a puppy is a lot more work than Samson.”
“Mom says it’s okay with her if it’s okay with you,” she presses. “Because I’d want my puppy to come with me whether I was staying there or here.”
I heave a sigh. “Lucy… puppies are a lot of work. You have to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up at all hours of the night.”
“I promise I’ll do all of that,” she exclaims. Her expression is so earnest that I believe her.
“Like how you were supposed to take care of your fish?” I can’t help but remind her. She forgot to feed him, and he died.
Lucy rolls her eyes. “I was seven. I’ve matured some, don’t you think?”
She has a point.
Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.
Buy her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.
I’ll be damned if I’m going to win my daughter over in such a cop-out way.
Still, I don’t discount it entirely.
“Tell you what,” I say as I reach out and take her hand in mine. “I promise to give it some really serious thought. And I’ll talk to your mom.”
“Really?” she screeches, squeezing my hand and bouncing in her seat.
“We’ll think about it and talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The mere fact I’m willing to consider it is a huge victory because she also knows when I make my mind up about something, I don’t change it.
“Thank you, Daddy.” She tugs her hand free, launches off the chair, and throws herself at me.
I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me and I have to say, it’s the best feeling in the world.
I squeeze her tight, pressing my face into her neck, wishing my sweet girl will always love me the way she does right now.
CHAPTER 3
Ella
I love my vanity. It was one of the main selling points of this house when we were hunting last year after Jim got traded to the Vengeance. It’s in the middle of the long, two-sink vanity and about four inches lower so I can sit in a chair to do my makeup and hair. It has a built-in makeup mirror framed in silver with a magnifying lens to one side for detailed eye makeup work.