Page 125 of Hockey Boy
Beside her, Sara is holding the coordinating purple cups.
I glance up the stairs, hoping Winnie will appear. She’s eleven and may be a little too old for tea parties, but with all of us here, I’m surprised she hasn’t even come to say hi. “Winnie coming down?”
Sara shrugs. “She said she was tired.”
Tired? It’s seven on a Friday night. Sure, she’s allowed to be tired, but still…
My stomach knots with concern. It’s not like her to hide away like this.
“You mind?” I say to Lex, who’s already reaching for the baby in my arms.
When my niece settles against her with her head on her chest, a warmth like I’ve never experienced rolls through me.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, sliding her pink hair behind her shoulder and then pressing my lips to her forehead.
“Oh my god, could you guys get any cuter?” Sara lifts Addie in her arms and spins her in a circle, as if she’s spreading the joy through the room.
I march up the stairs, hoping some of her joy makes the journey with me. I have a feeling Winnie needs a little extra today.
Pictures line the hallway upstairs. I rarely come up here, so I take a moment to look through them. In one photo, Beckett and Finn are wearing Boston Revs jerseys and standing on the field. Finn is missing his two front teeth, but the damn smile on his face has one tugging on my lips.
The one beside it is of Liv, Winnie, Addie, and Finn. It looks like before she even married Beckett. Back before they found themselves married in Vegas and he moved into the house with her and her friends and their kids.Finn was only four, Addie two, and Winnie was eight.
Back then, Winnie was quiet. But that all changed the day Beckett set a container filled with beads on the table and asked if she could help us make friendship bracelets for a fundraiser. That afternoon, as we made bracelet after bracelet, Winnie opened up to her stepdad’s brothers. I’m sure we were intimidating. Brooks is a massive hockey goalie, and Gavin was in his broody phase, since he and Millie were on different continents. But Winnie bonded with all of us as she taught us how to make bracelets.
Rather than going straight to Winnie’s room, I pop into the playroom at the end of the hall where Liv keeps the bracelet-making kit. We break it out often. I find it kind of relaxing stringing the beads together, and I like to add ridiculous sayings to them and give them to the guys on the team.
The closet in the playroom is stuffed with toys. The sight of it makes me grin. I can only imagine how badly this annoys my brother. He likes things so orderly, and yet he moved into a house filled with chaos because living without Liv was never an option.
I suppose the four of us brothers are all the same. Utterly obsessed with the women in our lives. Only happy when they’re happy.
And right about now, it’s clear that Winnie is not happy. That means I have work to do. I spot the beads and string up at the top and pull the container down carefully. I have no intention of spilling all these beads—the stress of worrying that the twins could choke would eat me alive.
Then I head to the tween’s door. There’s a pretty drawing on the outside with her name on it. It’s flowery and colorful, and if I had to guess, I’d say she drew it. Rapping my knuckles against the door, I call for her, knowing better than to just walk in. “Hey, Bear.”
“I’m fine,” she calls from the other side.
“I need your help. Any chance you have a minute? I know you’re a busy girl.”
The snort she lets out makes me smile.
“I suppose I can make time for you,” she says drolly as she peeks out into the hall. When she spots the goods in my hand, she eyes me. “Bringing in the big guns?”
I shrug as I enter. The way her room is shrouded in darkness sends tingles down my back. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
Head lowered, she settles down on her canopy bed. Her room is oversized, with pops of color everywhere. Purple comforter, teal walls, light pink furniture—Beckett surprised Liv with the house, but he brought Winnie with him for furniture shopping.
In the corner is a desk littered with art supplies and books.
The room is every girl’s dream, and yet the feeling inside it is morose. The lights off, the curtains closed, her face blank.
“Wanna help me make a bracelet?”
“Sure.” Winnie nods at the mattress beside her.
Obediently, I set down the supplies and sit opposite her. Without looking up, she opens the bin and grabs beads in several shades of pink. She settles them on the comforter, then selects a pink string. “What do you want it to say?”
Tongue in my cheek, I try to hide my grin. “Why’d you pick those colors?”