“Okay?” Kai asked.
I nodded as I glanced one last time at the map. The parade route was ingrained into my brain; starting and ending at the gazebo in Buchanan Park, where a ton of vans and tents offered food and drink—so many that they spilled past the skating pond, which was closed on parade night. The route took in all the highly decorated bright spots. There was a Santa and elves, floats, and every inch of the parade route was lined with the light displays I’d checked and double-checked, all of which stayed in place through the Christmas season.
I was so proud of Wishing Tree.
What had started as a small nothing town with an oak tree to tie wishes to, where a visitor could hang their hopes, had become a tourist hotspot that exploded with people as soon as the snow fell. Case in point, the parade that was due to start in five minutes. As a family, we didn’t walk in the parade, just planned it, and made sure that it started, ran, and ended on time, but the anticipation was incredible. Lucas bounced on his toes, staring out of a crack in the tent, and then visibly relaxing as the time ticked down to one minute to go, before he grabbed his clipboard and left. He was the one who ran the whole thing, and it was him that would start the countdown.
“It will be a good one,” Dad said, and peered out of the tent. Outside, the countdown was loud, five, four, three, two, ONE!
The music began, a marching band with their version of “Silent Night,” which certainly wasn’t silent, and then there was cheering, and after another five minutes of holding hands with Kai, standing with Mom and Dad, we joined the throngs of people watching the parade. The music changed with each float, or group, and segued from carols to familiar Christmas songs. Nothing was more exciting than this first day of the Christmas season. Yes, it was loud, yes, it was bright, but it was perfect, and I was always a little deflated when the last of the floats passed by. Only this year, I had Kai right next to me, our fingers laced in his pocket, and I consoled myself by sipping the hot chocolate that my mom handed me, savoring the whipped cream, and knowing I didn’t want to be anywhere else but here.
Chapter Seventeen
KAI
The market was insane—I hadn’t visited it since I’d left town for Juniors, and then the NHL, and it was a hundred times busier than I recalled. There were eighteen cabins, and tourists who bought everything that Bailey had made, from tiny intricate pieces of jewelry stamped with his Bailey Haynes logo to the larger pieces of work, like his metalwork angels set with gems and crystals. I spent a long time with him in his stall, watching him do his demonstrations, talking to customers who were sometimes fans of me and my hockey. I dealt with that as gracefully as I could, and worked hard to turn a fan of mine into a fan of Bailey’s art. We spent our days in the market, our nights at his place learning every inch of each other, and the only small dark area was that he hadn’t said he loved me yet.
We showed each other in every way possible that we fit, but he hadn’t replied once to me saying I loved him. Maybe he didn’t believe me? Maybe I was doing everything wrong? What right did I have to dump myself back in his life, tell him I loved him, and then expect him to immediately believe what I said? No right at all. None.
So, I was determined to show him I was staying. I signed up as a volunteer coach to four ages of hockey teams, I ordered furniture for my new place, I even organized a New Year's Eve party for all of our blended family as a house warming. I was here to stay, I loved him, and if I had to go the rest of my life not hearing him say it back then so be it. He showed me I was important to him, that he trusted me with his secrets, and that had to be enough.
My future was fixed and certain—Wishing Tree, family, Bailey. The call from Archie though, when it came, was unexpected, but welcome. After all, he was still my agent until the last day of December and I would get texts every so often with comments on rivals, or job opportunities that I’d consistently turned down.
I didn’t want these opportunities right now. I’m not sure if I’ll ever need them if it meant leaving Bailey’s side. Still, I showed Bailey every single one of them, making sure he could see I wasn’t interested. I still didn’t know if I was doing this the right way, but I was determined to do everything I could to show him I was in his life on a permanent basis.
I’d give everything to be the person who brought Bailey coffee as he worked, or be the official Boots-stroker, or maybe just sit at Bailey’s side and love him. Today was the last day of the market, it was Christmas in a few days, and I guessed that Archie was calling to wish me season’s greetings and all that. I’d missed him—he’d been such a big part of my hockey career, and maybe in the New Year, we could meet up and get coffee somewhere, as post-hockey friends.
“How are you?”
“I’m good,” I said with the most honesty I’d ever been able to add to two words.
“Can you talk?”
“Sure. Hang on,” I caught Bailey’s attention. “Coffee?”
Bailey nodded with a smile, before going back to his current demonstration for a group of tourists that had recently offloaded from the bus park.
“Okay, I’m listening,” I said as I sauntered over to get coffee.
“Got an offer for you,” Archie cut to the chase. “It’s good news I think—if you want to stay in the world of hockey, then the network wants you, game coverage and pre-season, plus the Cup run. Good money, two-month contract to start to ascertain good fit. It’s in Albany.”
“Okay.” That was the only role I’d ever thought about in any great depth, but there was no excitement, no rush of enthusiasm at all. I didn’t want it.
He chuckled. “I know what you’re going to say, but as your agent, I have to ask if you’re interested in talking to them?”
I arrived at the Coffee Shack, manned by a gaggle of teenagers, and held up two fingers. They knew my order now, one black for me, one with cream for Bailey, plus a cookie we inevitably shared. My belly would probably soften now I’ve been relaxing my diet, and I joked last night that I’d end up looking like Santa.
All Bailey had done was rest his cheek there and tell me that he’d love somewhere soft to sleep. That man got me all worked up every damn time, and the resulting mutual blow jobs were full of joking and messing about and just… love.
“Are you still there, Kai?”
“Yeah, I was thinking about how to word this,” I said, and took the small cardboard tray with the coffees and the gold and silver-flecked cookie. I juggled the phone to pull out money, and then headed back toward Bailey.
“How to word what exactly?” Archie asked, and it sounded to me as if he had laughter in his voice. “Could it be you want to say that you’re completely done with hockey, and are perfectly happy in Christmas Tree?”
I couldn’t stop my snort of laughter. “Wishing Tree, and in love, and yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Although I’ll always have hockey—I’ve been helping my nephews a bit here and there, and there’s an old rink that I could invest in. I don’t know yet, but I’m staying here. With Bailey.”
“I’m so happy for you, Kai.”
“Thank you, Archie.”