Filed to story: Luci Forrester and Easton Reed: Hockey Romance Story
After dinner, Easton gives Cole a quick bath, sensing his fatigue. He tucks him into bed, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. “Love you, buddy. See you in the morning.”
“Night, Daddy. Love you.”
I hold a book in my hand, waiting for the moment when Cole is ready. Easton passes by me, pausing for a brief moment. “I’m going to the game room with Kingston.” He frowns slightly before adding in his usual gruff tone, “I appreciate you spending your day off with him.”
“Thank you for everything today,” I reply, placing emphasis on ‘everything’ because it truly means a lot to me.
He nods, a brief acknowledgment, and then he’s gone.
Settling on Cole’s bed, I hear him say, “No book, Luci.” He reaches beneath his pillow and retrieves a fancy silver frame. With delicate fingers, he touches the glass before handing it to me. I hold it up to the lamp light and see a younger version of Easton, his face alight with happiness, free of the cold aloofness that often clouds him. In his arms is a strikingly beautiful girl with thick, wavy strawberry-blonde hair, porcelain skin, and enormous bright blue eyes that seem to twinkle with joy. Their happiness radiates from the photograph, a moment frozen in time.
“That’s my mom,” Cole says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. I look up at him, seeing the way he stares at the picture, his small face reflecting a mix of emotions.
“She’s beautiful. Do you remember her?” I ask cautiously, unsure how to navigate this sensitive topic with him.
He looks up at me, a hint of sadness shadowing his bright eyes. “No. I don’t remember her. Not even a little like you and your mommy.” His speech shifts back to that of a typical four-year-old, revealing the weight of his emotions.
“Does that make you sad?” Now I understand why he wanted to have this conversation.
“Yes.” Just one little word, yet it carries a heavy burden.
“Does your daddy talk about her?” I take his tiny hand in mine, gently rubbing my thumb over the back of it to provide comfort.
“No. I found out from Uncle Becker that’s her.” His big eyes search mine, and I can feel the innocence in his gaze. “I don’t think she loved me.”
A sharp pain hits me at his words. I close my eyes momentarily, blinking back tears. Setting the picture down on his nightstand, I pull him into my lap, facing me. “Cole, I want you to listen carefully. I don’t know anything about your mom. We’d have to ask your daddy about her.” I shudder internally at the thought of how that conversation might unfold. “But if someone doesn’t love you, that’s their bad luck and their problem. Not everyone has the capacity to love, and that’s just how life works. It’s sad, and it can hurt your heart, right?” He nods, his gaze fixed on me. “You are the sweetest little boy I know, just like Barrett. So many people love you. Can you think of who they are?”
“Daddy and Uncle Becker, Uncle Kingston, Uncle Jackson, Grandpappy, Baker, Mrs. Hutchins…” He lists off names, and I smile, knowing that’s his teacher. “Barrett likes me a lot. I’m his friend. And you?” He leaves out his grandmother, which doesn’t go unnoticed by me.
“Yes, I love you, Cole. When did you find this picture?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Yesterday. Luci, who loved you after your mommy and daddy were gone?”
I take a deep breath, grappling with how to respond honestly. “Sydney and her family. I had a wonderful teacher named Mrs. Jenkins who cared about me deeply. She helped me learn how to cope with my squirrel brain. Someone named Janet took care of me when I turned eight. But you know, the number of people who love you isn’t what matters. It’s the ways they love you and how deeply they care. You can have just one person who loves you, and that can be enough.” I run my fingers gently through his hair, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. “You know, I think you could ask your daddy about her. He loves you a whole lot.” I mean it; I saw the love radiating from him all day while he was around Cole, just like in this photograph. It makes me feel a pang of sadness, realizing that this version of Easton seems to have faded away, or perhaps only shines in the presence of those he truly loves.
“I don’t wanna make him get mad or upset,” he murmurs, his little face scrunching in concern.
“Because you love him a lot,” I affirm.
“I do. He’s the bestest daddy in the whole world.” I can’t help but chuckle softly at his heartfelt declaration.
“I think he is for you. It makes my heart happy that you have someone who loves you so much.”
“Are you going to tell Daddy?” he asks quietly, a hint of worry in his voice.
“No. This is our special conversation. I would only tell him if something was really hurting you, and I’d make sure we told him together.”
He hugs me tightly, his little arms wrapping around me like a warm blanket. “Did you like your first carnival, Luci? You have Corndog to snuggle with tonight. Janet didn’t take you?”
“No. Janet worked a lot and didn’t have time. She lived alone and had four or five kids in her house. But I had the best day with you.”
I rock him gently back and forth, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. “Luci, what I dream about…”
“Dream about dragons and bunnies who ride unicorns and deliver cupcakes to all children. All of them. None left out,” I reply softly, a smile creeping onto my face.
“Fuv you, Fuck.” His mouth barely moves as he drifts off to sleep. I tuck him in, placing the photo back under his pillow. As I kiss his forehead, I contemplate leaving the bunny with him, but he was so insistent that I needed it. I stare at the rabbit, pushing back the memories I don’t want to confront, and pull out my phone.
“Syd, I need a movie night. I’m struggling after today.”
Her response comes almost instantly. “I’ll be sitting on your couch by the time you get home. With snacks and milkshakes.”
“What would I do without you?” I reply, feeling a sense of relief.
As I leave, I catch a glimpse of Baker, but I wave to him quickly and escape. The drive home feels like a blur, and I remind myself that I didn’t lie to Easton. I don’t space out while driving. It’s part of my trauma from losing my parents. I avoid drinking anything and never touch my phone while I’m behind the wheel. Thunderstorms terrify me, and I often hide under the covers like a giant baby. I talk out loud to myself, listing my issues and how I combat them. It helps me stay focused.
“Storms, I hide. I’m a safe driver. I make lists and follow them. I enjoy what makes me happy in the moment instead of dwelling on the past. I am a real girl. I step up if someone needs me. I ask Sydney for help.”
When I finally arrive home, Syd is already sitting on my couch, The Goonies cued up and ready. I can’t help but laugh a little at that.
“A classic tonight. We know it by heart, so we can easily talk during,” she grins.
After changing into my soft pajama pants and a big sweatshirt, paired with my coziest socks, I dive into everything-starting with Easton provoking me, which earns one of her best threats. “I swear I will cut his balls off, roast them, and serve them to a squirrel.”
I burst into laughter, the tension from the day starting to fade away. When I reach the part about Julian and Easton, she holds up a finger, stopping me as she laughs so hard that tears stream down her cheeks. “I take it back. Easton can keep his balls. Roasted balls for squirrels are for Julian and Deacon now. Easton deserves extra corndogs.”