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I would never have had the money to do that. But was he doing it to be kind, or did he do it to make me feel indebted to him, to them?
I made it up the stairs, and then got briefly turned around. Left was the cinema? Or was that Devan’s room? I knew if I moved to the right, I’d get to my room eventually, or the library, and then I could slip across the nursery to my room. I totally took a wrong turn and ended up in the library, but that was okay. I’d make it out eventually.
The library was extensive, and had everything from business texts to hardback classics, even some paperback crime novels. What interested me the most was the small case of romance novels.
Who read those? A girlfriend?
Shit, why hadn’t I asked them about girlfriends? Jesus, I was a dumbass. They were pro athletes. When I’d been doing a little research, I’d found Devan in aForbes“30 under 30” article, which was basically a wishlist for debutantes. Of course they had girlfriends.
It didn’t matter to me, of course, because that wasn’t why I was here. It’d be fine. Yep, fine.
The door to the nursery was already open a fraction. River must have brought Huey in through this door instead of going through my room. I was touched by his thoughtfulness.
“...so your mama was in the middle of the river in a shopping cart, and neither your Uncle Dev or I could swim—that’s one of the first things I’ll teach you, especially since we have a pool—so we ended up buying three gallon bottles of milk and chugging as much as we could, because we didn’t want to waste it. By the time we finished drinking what we could and pouring out the rest, I had this huge pain in my stomach, but we still had to rescue your mama. We tied those bottles together with rope and threw them out on the water, and your mama had to leap from the shopping cart and do this weird dog paddle back to shore while we pulled her in. As soon as she reached the bank, your Uncle Dev turned into the bushes and must have puked up half a gallon of milk.” He chuckled, and I continued to stand outside the door, holding my breath and not making a noise. “I promise I won’t let you forget your mom, but Nova seems like a pretty good stand-in. You’re gonna be a lucky boy to have two mamas who love you so much. Some of us didn’t even get one.”
Argh. My heart.
I tiptoed back down the hall and opened the door to my bedroom a little louder than I normally would have. When I ducked around the corner into the nursery, River was holding Huey, all clean and zipped into his sleep sack thing. Huey was grumbly, and instead of taking him, I handed River the bottle and pointed to the rocking chair in the corner.
Bless Rigby. He’d thought of everything.
“Do you want to feed him and put him down? I can get started on putting our stuff away.”
His eyes darted between me and the grizzly baby. “I’d like that.”
He was almost too big for the chair, but somehow he managed to shift himself around until he was comfortable, tucking Huey in the crook of his ample arm. The baby took the bottle like a ravenous piranha.
“Just give me a shout if you need anything,” I told River softly, moving out of the room and back into the space that would be mine.
It was a beautiful room. You could sleep a family of nine in here, though; it was huge. Windows on two walls, a walk-in closet and an ensuite. The thread count on the sheets must have been a million because they felt like silk.
Slipping into the closet, I unpacked my clothes onto the hangers. My parents had never been rich. We’d been firmly middle class—enough to buy a decent pair of sneakers once a year, but not well off enough to shop anywhere but Target for clothes. Once I grew up and got a job, I’d been even poorer, because no one ever tells you that adulting is so freaking expensive.
So I thrifted and hit the end-of-season sales, and had created a wardrobe I was happy with. But stuffed into one-eighth of this closet, it kind of seemed miserable. Shaking my head, I pulled out the remainder of my worldly possessions, placing them on shelves around the room. I held a photo of my parents in my hand, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do.
The smiling man in the photo, the one who’d loved me, taught me to ride a bike, come to all my volleyball games, sang happy birthday to me out of tune every birthday for my whole life… he was also the same man who’d abandoned Huey. Who’d inadvertently caused the death of his mother. If she hadn’t been alone, maybe she would have made it.
“You can put it up, if you like. We’re angry at him, but he’s Huey’s dad, and yours too. We wouldn’t deny either of you that.”
I spun quickly, clutching the picture to my chest. I hadn’t even heard River come into the room. With a sigh, I placed the photo on the dresser. “I’m mad at him too.” I didn’t look at River as I said it. “I miss him so fucking much, but I’m so angry at him.”
River hovered at the door. “Rigby tells me that feelings are complicated. If they weren’t, we’d all float around the world like Teletubbies. His words, not mine.” I snorted, because I could imagine Rigby saying that. “We have a therapist here in Ann Arbor. Both Dev and I go and see him, because… we are pretty fucked up.” He let out a humorless laugh. “He must be good, because there’s no way I would have admitted that ten years ago. Anyway, I know you were seeing one in Tucson, but I wasn’t sure if you were going to just video call in your sessions or if you need a new one. I’ll leave his number on the counter, just in case.” He wiped his palms on his sweats. “So, goodnight.”
Turning away, he headed back through the nursery and out the other door. “Night, River,” I whispered to his back. Then I got into my pajamas and climbed into a bed so soft, it was like a dream.
I didn’t lock the doors.
ChapterNine
RIVER
“Pick up the pace,Cooper! This is training, not your casual Saturday spin around the lake!” Coach shouted at me from the stands.
I was sweating hard as I skated up and down the ice, running drills until my back was soaked. You couldn’t beat the feeling of being on the ice, your muscles burning, the bite of the cold that you feel in your lungs. That smell that only an ice rink can create. Chemicals. Sweat. Ice.
“Wake the fuck up!” Coach called, and we pushed harder, faster. “We aren’t getting the Cup if you fuckers are asleep out there.”
He said this every training, no matter if we were sweating blood or not. Coach Tooniski, better known as Coach Toons, swore like a sailor whose mother was a prostitute. He was also the best coach the IceCaps had in a decade, so I’d take the abuse and only mentally flip him the finger. We all knew deep down that he was making us better. He might swear and yell a lot out on the ice, but he also took care of the players, not just the team.
