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“You could say that.” I wiped crumbs off the counter as I answered. “He moved out.”
She stopped drying the pan in her hand and turned toward me. “What?”
“He’s staying with Luke.”
“When did this happen? Why didn’t you call me?”
With the dishes still needing to be loaded into the dishwasher, we sat down at the kitchen table. I told her what had happened the day Kyle left. “He won’t take my calls or answer my texts. He told Aunt Izzie we’re separated.”
She scratched the back of her hand. It was the same thing she used to do when we were kids and her mother asked her if her homework was finished or her father wanted to know if she knew where the bottle of rum was. “He needs time to cool off.”
“I’m going to his hockey game tomorrow night.”
She shook her head. “Not a good idea. Give him space right now.”
“I gave him a week. We need to talk about it to move on.”
I expected her to argue with me more, but she stood without saying anything. As she loaded the remaining dishes into the dishwasher, I said good night to the boys.
She hugged me goodbye at the door and watched as I walked to my car. Just before I slid behind the steering wheel, she called down to me. “I’m coming with you tomorrow, with Cam and Noah. He won’t ignore them.”
Chapter 19
While Sharon unbuckled Noah from his seat, Cameron burst from the car and ran through the parking lot toward the entrance. Shouting his name, I chased after him. He ignored me as he pulled the door open and rushed inside. A group of teenagers crowded the concession stand, but the lobby was otherwise empty. I glimpsed a flash of Cameron’s green coat heading for the rink. When I caught up with him, he was standing by Kyle’s team’s bench, calling my husband’s name. Kyle took shots on the ice with several players, warming up. He didn’t acknowledge Cameron, probably because he couldn’t hear him over the sound of the music and sticks slapping pucks into the boards. For a few minutes, Cameron and I watched Kyle shoot. He bent his knees, shifted his weight to his back leg, and pushed off it, directing all his energy toward the net as he shot. The first three shots missed wide to the left. The next two banged off the right goal post. I’d never seen him miss an empty net so many times.
Luke sat on the bench, lacing up his skates. He looked up at me with such sympathy that I wondered if he knew Kyle was never coming home. “Nikki.” The way he said it made my name sound sad. “Good to see you.”
“Cameron wanted to watch Kyle play.”
Luke’s right cheek twitched as if he was trying to stop a laugh. He knew I was the one who wanted to see Kyle play and the kid was a cover.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, standing and placing a hand on my shoulder. He turned his attention to Cameron. “Long time no see, little man. Did you come to see your Uncle Kyle play?”
Cameron nodded, edging closer to me. I reached for his hand.
Luke grabbed his stick and tousled Cameron’s hair. “I’ll tell Uncle Kyle to score a goal for you.” Stepping onto the rink, he winked and sprinted toward his teammates. He skidded to a sudden stop in front of Kyle, spraying tiny particles of ice into the air.
Kyle paused his shooting as Luke leaned toward him, pointing in my direction. My husband turned toward the bench. The edges of his lips curled upward when he saw me, the way they did when we were arguing about something stupid and he was trying not to smile. Their curl boosted my confidence. Cameron waved wildly, and Kyle saluted him with his stick. He nodded at me before resuming his practice shots. The next three landed in the center of the net.
Cameron headed up the bleachers to a spot about four rows down from the top. I climbed the stairs behind him, happy about my decision to come here tonight. We had just settled in our seats when Sharon appeared, carrying a kicking and screaming Noah.
“I should have left him with Rick,” she said. “He’s overtired.” With circles under her eyes as dark as the puck, she looked exhausted too. She should have been home cuddled under a blanket with her feet up on the ottoman, not traipsing through a cold, loud ice rink babysitting me. I was lucky to have her as a friend.
A family of four sat a few rows in front of us. The teenage boy carried a large tub of popcorn. Its scent floated back to our row, making my mouth water.
“I want some,” Cameron whined. He grabbed Sharon’s hand. “Let’s get some.”
“I’ll take him,” I said.
“I want Mommy to take me.”
Noah’s cries became louder. Sharon shifted him to her other shoulder. “Let’s go, Mommy,” Cameron said.
“Stop it,” she snapped.
“Take Cameron to the concessions, and I’ll stay with Noah.”
Sharon handed the baby off to me like we were playing a game of hot potato. Pulling Cameron by his arm, she raced out of our row. Noah’s cries became bloodcurdling screams. Sharon froze on the concrete steps next to our bench. “We’ll be fine,” I said, shooing her away.
