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I look at my phone and make a note of the date and realize that for the first time in over a year, I don’t hate Benji. “I’m coming.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
dakota
“Have you decided what you’re going to do?” Dr. Mendes asks.
“That’s a loaded question.” I look over at her. “Have I decided what I’m going to do for dinner? Have I decided what I’m going to do when my girls go to sleep tonight?”
She laughs with me. “I meant, have you decided what you’re going to do about the first game of the season?” I nod at her.
“Aha,” I say, “I’m not sure. I know I should go. I know the girls are going to want to go. I know if I go, in the end, I’ll have a nice evening out.”
“But?” She always goes to but, and it sometimes feels like I’m having a conversation with the girls. We can have this, but would you rather this?
“But should I even be there?” I shrug. Last week, the team's general manager made it a point to call me and tell me that even though Benji isn’t with us anymore, my place will always be with the association.
“It’s not like you’ve never been to a game before.” The minute she says the words, I point at her.
“That’s true.” I take a sip of my coffee. “But I don’t know.”
“So maybe do it for the girls.” She smirks. “And a little for you.”
“I have to be at a hockey arena tomorrow morning at seven o’clock,” I snap, “on a Saturday.” She throws her head back and laughs. It’s been over two weeks since the girls started hockey whatever it’s called. Two weeks and they thrive at it. Even Luna is getting better and better.
“I don’t know, but something tells me you’ll survive.” I bring the cup of coffee to my lips and snort before I take another sip. I will survive.
The session ends with me deciding I should go, if just for the kids. I put “drink wine in a bubble bath” as something to do for myself after tomorrow.
The kids don’t even complain when I wake them both up at six, which bothers me to no end. The soft knock on the door still surprises me, but then again, it doesn’t. Christopher has been to every single practice in the past two weeks. I know with the season starting this weekend, he won’t be able to make some of them.
“I made you coffee.” I hand him the black thermos I prepared for him, just in case he came.
“Thank God.” He holds out his hand to grab the thermos. His hand is colder than mine, and I can feel a shiver crawl up my spine. “I literally rolled out of bed five minutes ago.”
“Well, it looks like it.” I chuckle while he glares at me. Practice is pretty much the same as it’s been the last two weeks. The two of us sit side by side while Christopher leans over occasionally and points out kids he’ll have problems with if they do one more thing to the girls. In the past two weeks, we’ve talked on the phone every single day when he calls to check on the girls, and sometimes, he will text me random things during the day, which I usually answer with a thumbs-up or down.
“See you tonight,” he says before getting back in his truck after breakfast is consumed and the kids are watching television.
As the day gets later and later, I feel the nerves rolling in with a punch. I feel like I’m going to throw up every five seconds. The girls wear jeans and the team jerseys with Benji’s number on the back that say Daddy on them. I swallow down the lump in my throat before going into my closet to get dressed. I slip on a pair of tight black jeans. They used to be tighter on me, but they’re not horrible. I decide to also grab a black bodysuit that fits perfectly. Buttoning up the jeans, I slide into a pair of white Gucci sneakers.
I move to the bathroom to touch up my hair, which I spent way too much time on. I tried to convince myself I was doing it for me, but in reality, I was doing it for everyone else. To make them see I’m okay, or at least trying to be. My hands shake as I walk down the steps and yell for the girls that it’s time to go.
They put on their sneakers at the door while I take the leather jacket and slip it on. I snap a picture of myself and send it to Dr. Mendes with the caption “You can take the widow to the game, but you can’t make her wear color.” I snort at my own joke before grabbing my keys and heading outside.
I try to control my breathing as I turn down to the parking garage where the families park. The girls are so excited they have been bouncing off the walls all afternoon long. They wouldn’t even take a nap. I’m hoping they want to crash in the second period so I can leave. I grab the badge I was sent on Wednesday before we make our way over to the family suite.
The team has three whole sections of suites that they have made into one big one. It always has food and drinks, but then there are about a hundred seats in front of the suite for people to sit and actually watch the game. My neck burns as I get closer and closer, the chatting of everyone around me fades away and all I can hear is my heart thumping in my chest. “This is it,” I say when I smile at the security guard at the door, who nods at me when he sees the badge.
As soon as I walk in, I want to turn around and walk right back out the door. Maybe this is too fast. Maybe I should have waited to come back. My eyes quickly fly around the room like a deer in headlights. I think my knees are about to give out when I hear my name being called. Looking over, I’m shocked to see it’s Christopher’s dad. “Dakota,” he says, the smile on his face beams, “hi.” When he gets close enough, he bends to kiss my cheek. “Hi.” He bends to kiss the girls on the top of their heads. “Look at how big you two got.”
“I skate,” Luna says.
“Do you?” Justin says. “How fun. Maybe you can come skate with me sometime.”
She nods before he stands back up to talk to me. “How have you been?”
“Good,” I answer as I look to the side and see Caroline, Christopher’s mom, talking to a beautiful woman with blond hair. She is deep in the conversation, but when she sees me, her eyes light up as she touches the girl’s hand to stop her from talking and walks to me.
