Page 29 of Power Play

Emmy grabs at my beard, rubbing her hands against me. She kicks her feet and squeals, happy as can be.

“I missed you, little one. Did you miss me?”

She doesn’t answer me, of course.

“We’re going to have to do something about your mommy. I need her to like me. What do you think I should do?”

Because Riley is her mother now. She may not have given birth to her, but in the month since Carter passed, she’s stepped up and parented her expertly. And now that we’re married, Emmy is technically her stepdaughter.

It feels right, calling Riley her mother. Now I have to convince her to accept the title.

She returns with the bottle, and as I feed my baby, I feel Riley’s eyes burning into me from the threshold.

“You have perfect timing,” she says around a yawn. “She’s been waking up at this time every night. It’s like she knows you’re on your way home.”

“I’m sorry.”

She waves it off. “I know it’s her system. She doesn’t actually realize yet.”

Especially since I can get home at different times. After a home game, I’m usually back by eleven, but when we’re flying back, we get in at all times of the night. Sometimes after dawn if we’re coming back from the Midwest or West Coast. Every once in a while, we fly in the daytime rather than after a game, but not too often. The team would rather we sleep on the plane than in another hotel and waste a day.

She looks dead on her feet, her eyes struggling to stay open.

“I’m home now. You’re off duty. Go get some rest.”

Her nod is brisk. “Got it. Goodnight.”

My stomach twists, knowing I pissed her off. That wasn’t my intention.

“Riley.”

She turns back, her hand on the doorjamb. “Yeah?”

“I’m home for the next few days. What do you think about going to the children’s museum?”

Her frown makes my stomach clench. “She’s a little young for something like that. She won’t be able to see much beyond the stroller.”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” It’s clear I’m in over my head.

“Maybe you can take her to the Common,” she says. “She’ll like the duck statues.”

“Great idea. They dress them up for winter. It’s pretty cute.” One of my earliest childhood memories is trying to ride the duck. I was maybe three or four and didn’t understand why it wouldn’t move.

“That sounds nice.”

“Will you come with us?” I hold my breath, then exhale. “It would be nice to do something as a family.”

She bites her lip. “You sure you want me to come with you?”

“Yeah. I want you there.”

I may not be able to verbalize the chaos on my mind, but I can show her I’m serious. That I’m in this.

Riley stares at me in the dark room, her gaze pinning me to the spot.

“All right,” she finally says. “We can go.”