Page 60 of Icebound Hearts
“Let’s see, where were we? Oh, right. Chewy was a young rabbit when he got on the plane from Hoppington to Denver,” I start, and Jake lets out a little giggle. “He was scared—soscared—to fly by himself for the very first time, but he knew there was someone special waiting for him. Someone who needed him.”
“Me?” Jake asks, looking at me quizzically.
“Exactly. See, in Hoppington, when rabbits get to a certain age, they’re assigned a person to take care of.”
“How?”
“Good question. In Chewy’s case, he pulled your name out of a hat.”
Jake laughs. “Like a magician pulls a rabbit from a hat!”
“Yup, you got it. He pulled your name when you were just a baby, and even though he was scared to leave Hoppington, he was even more excited to meet you. And then when he finally got here and met you and saw how special you really were, he knew Denver would be his new home, and that you two would be best friends forever.”
Jake reaches for Chewy and pulls the stuffed rabbit in for a hug, then peppers its face with kisses. “I love you, Chewy.”
“And Chewy loves you too! So, so much,” I tell Jake and stroke his hair again. He reaches for one of my hands and squeezes his fingers around mine. Slowly, his eyes grow heavier, and within a few minutes, he’s dozed off.
As quietly as I can, I free myself from his grip, push to my feet, and leave the room, closing the door softly behind me with my heart hurting. I’m not sure if the story I made up aboutChewy was enough to help him feel better about his mom, but it was hopefully a step in the right direction toward sweet dreams.
In my bedroom, the TV’s still on and showing the last of the Aces game. I want to watch the rest of it, and after the heavy interaction I just had with Jake I could use the distraction, but I don’t want it to wake Jake up, so I mute it and close my door most of the way.
The Aces are up 4-2 with only a few minutes left to go. Just as I’m sitting down on my bed to watch, the camera zooms in on Sawyer, who’s bracing himself to stop one of the opposing players currently streaking across the ice toward him. At the last second, the guy tries to pass to a teammate, but Sawyer’s smart and fast enough to read it and moves along with the opponent. His stick shoots out, intercepting the puck and scurrying the play.
“Yes!” I hiss, doing my best to keep my voice low.
The interception seems to completely demoralize the other team, and they mostly just mill around and accept their fate as the clock ticks down to zero. Even if they’d scored, it might not have turned the game around, but it would’ve given them a fighting chance—and Sawyer scrapped all that.
I can’t wait to tell Jake about it in the morning and show him the recording. When the game’s over, I unmute the TV and keep the volume low to listen to some of the commentary. Everyone’s giving Sawyer the credit for locking down the game, which seems like exactly the kind of ego boost he’s been needing.
About an hour later, I’m scrolling social media on my phone with the TV going in the background when my phone rings and Sawyer’s name shows up on the screen. Smiling, I swipe to accept the call and bring the phone to my ear.
“I had a feeling I’d be hearing from the MVP tonight. Nice save.”
Sawyer laughs. “You were watching?”
“Of course I was.”
“That explains why I was playing so well then,” he says, and I can hear the grin in his voice. His words and tone make my heart flutter, and the room suddenly feels at least a few degrees warmer.
“I don’t know about all that.”
“Oh, I do. You have no idea how much of a weight it takes off me to know someone I trust is at home with Jake. It really lets me focus on the game. I think tonight was the best I’ve played in months because of that.”
My heart flutters at his words, both because I’m glad to hear I’m helping him as much as he’s helping me and because part of me loves hearing how much he appreciates me being here. Maybe it’s stupid of me, but I have a feeling he hasn’t felt that way about any of the other women he’s hired to babysit Jake. Either way, hearing how much of a difference I’m making for him definitely makes me feel less like a charity case.
“I missed a big chunk of the game because Jake insisted on bedtime stories, but from what I saw, you were on fire tonight.”
“Oh, no. Was he missing me again?”
“No more than usual,” I tell him honestly, but hesitate while I try to figure out how to share with Sawyer what Jake was asking me tonight.
“What do you think was going on with him then?”
“I think it’s Miriam.”
Sawyer grimaces. “Damn it, I was really hoping he didn’t hear any of that call with her, but he must have.”
“Possibly. But he also could’ve just put two and two together. Kids are a lot smarter than we give them credit for.”