Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
“Wicious,” Cole replies, his mouth full of fries, and I can’t help but smile at his adorable mispronunciation. He swallows and adds, “Sorry. Luci says I lose my food if I dooes that. Have to swallow first, then talk.” The difference in his mannerisms when he talks to us versus his grandmother is striking.
“Luci is proving to be wiser and wiser,” Jackson adds, laughing.
“Cole, who was the other boy in Luci’s car?” I ask, sitting next to him, my head pounding. I rub my temples as Kingston goes to grab two pills and a bottle of water. I take them gratefully.
“Barrett. Luci’s best friend is his aunt. She picks him up for her one night, and we’ll play together. Grandmother said it’s okay. I wanted to play today. Never had a play date.” His face falls slightly, and I curse myself internally. This is my fault-or more accurately, Mrs. Walters’ fault. My son has already dealt with enough.
“You like Luci a lot?” Becker asks, and Cole nods eagerly.
“She plays with me. Not her phone. And has good listening ears. She saved me.” All Cole wants is someone to pay that much attention to him besides us. It sounds like she’s wonderful with him.
“She sounds pretty awesome,” Kingston agrees, voicing my thoughts aloud while giving me a pointed look. I narrow my eyes at him, feeling the weight of his scrutiny.
“Will she come back, Daddy? You sounded mad at her.” The worry in his small voice pierces my heart as he looks up at me, his big eyes wide with concern.
“I was mad about something else. I’ll make sure she comes back for you,” I assure him, my voice softer now, hoping to ease his fears.
He nods, then leans over to hug me tightly.
“Come on, Spider-Man, I’ll bathe you,” Becker announces, holding out his hand. “Your daddy’s gotta test out his knee toughness.” He grins over his shoulder, and I can’t help but flip him off playfully. He just laughs silently as Cole argues that he’s Batman today. I refuse to grovel at anyone’s feet, and he knows it. But I will do whatever it takes to get her back for Cole.
As soon as they are out of sight, I lean my forehead against the cold marble countertop, feeling the weight of the situation settle heavily on my shoulders.
“You were set up,” Jackson says quietly, and I hear him moving around in the fridge. “Want leftover lasagna?”
“Sounds fine,” I reply, but I sit up as I hear the back door open. Kingston and Jackson instantly stiffen, and Kingston swiftly folds up the note, shoving it into his pocket.
“You’re home early. Is Cole already in bed?” she asks, her voice uncertain.
I stare at her as Jackson makes our plates, and Kingston retrieves sodas from the fridge. She turns her gaze toward me as the door closes behind her.
“Why the hell are you having the nanny call you Mrs. Walters, Mother?” I ask her coldly, unable to contain my confusion and irritation.
Luci
“Will I get to play with Cole next week, Luci?” Barrett’s voice is laced with excitement as he gazes up at me, his big brown eyes sparkling with hope.
I can’t help but feel a pang of regret as I look back at him. “Probably not,” I reply, my voice heavy with the weight of the truth. I had just had a confrontation with his father, and while he deserved every bit of my frustration, it’s not the best way to secure my job. “I’m really sorry, Barrett.”
He nods, his small shoulders sagging slightly. Barrett is a remarkably easygoing five-year-old, one who seems to roll with the punches of life. His father, Banning, is a single military man currently deployed for four months, leaving Barrett in the care of Syd and her parents. With Syd’s mom working nights as a nurse and her dad on a midshift until seven, it falls to Syd and me to look after Barrett on the nights her mom is at work.
Barrett was just as thrilled as Cole would have been to have a new friend to play with, but their schedules rarely align.
“Luci, I’m finished,” he announces, handing me his empty plate, his tiny fingers sticky with remnants of peanut butter and jelly. I must have been lost in thought because he usually tells me when I’m not paying attention. His dad has a tendency to zone out, much like I do. “You can go pick one of your shows while I clean up,” he adds, already making his way toward the couch.
Just as I settle into the moment, my phone buzzes with an incoming call from an unknown number. Probably a telemarketer, I think dismissively. “Hello! You have reached Luci’s fortune-telling service. How may I read your cards?” I joke, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Luci!”
“Cole?” I ask, wanting to confirm that it’s really him.
“It’s me! Daddy said I could tell you goodnight,” he replies, his voice a delightful mix of sleepiness and joy.
“Goodnight, Coco! Dream about helicopters that have crocodiles flying them,” I say, recalling the silly game we’ve started where we pick the most ridiculous things for him to dream about. I already feel a twinge of longing for him. It’s astonishing how quickly I’ve grown attached after just a week.
He giggles softly on the other end. “Night, Luci!”
Just as I’m about to end the call, I hear that familiar low, gravelly voice, commanding and intense. “Don’t hang up, Luci!”
A shiver runs down my spine at the sound of my name. Down, Luci, NO! He’s a cold jerk with a face that could stop traffic and a voice that could melt glaciers. But still, he’s a jerk.
“Luci? Are you there?” he snaps impatiently, his tone making it clear he’s not in the mood for games.
Again, with the name. It’s infuriating.
“Yes. Just stop saying my name,” I blurt out, my irritation bubbling to the surface.
“Why?” His confusion is palpable, and I’m not about to explain myself.
“Because you made me mad,” I retort, partially true but also a bit of a stretch.
“I’m calling to explain,” he says, as if that’s something he does often. I can tell he’s not used to having to apologize. “Are you busy? You have your friend’s nephew.”
“Not particularly,” I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral.