Page 52 of Power Play

nineteen

. . .

Al

The team jet has never felt more like a prison than it does right now. We’re somewhere over the Carolinas or Virginia, and home feels impossibly far away.

“Will you shut up?” Larsson snaps, after I sigh for the fourth time in about five minutes. He’s across the aisle from me, sitting by himself since Vanessa didn’t make the trip.

“Sorry,” I mutter.

“We all want to get home. You aren’t making it happen any quicker.”

“How do you do it?”

He cocks his head at me, taking off his headphones. “Do what?”

“Being away from your family. Constantly on the road, and then never getting to spend enough time with them when you’re home?”

“It’s the job,” he says slowly. “I like when Vanessa joins us on the road, even though we both miss Leo. But when she stays in Boston, it makes coming home to her that much better.”

“I just—I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin. DCFS came by today and⁠—”

Larsson frowns.

“Social services. Because I’m not on the birth certificate, everything is complicated, and…” I sigh again. “I just want my kid to be mine. I don’t want this constant threat looming over our shoulders.”

“It will all resolve soon.” His tone is firm. Sure. Like there’s not a single doubt in his mind.

If only I could be as trusting.

“But you don’t know that. They could decide my job means I can’t be there for her, or⁠—”

“It will resolve,” he repeats. “Will it be difficult? Perhaps. You can get through it. You will get through it. Because the alternative…”

“She’s my kid. Mine. And yeah, maybe the way I found out was a bit unconventional, but I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

“You won’t have to.” Larsson nods, way more confident than I am. “If we have to get team lawyers on it, we will. If we have to go to public goodwill, we will.”

“I don’t want to air my dirty laundry in public.” The last thing I want is Emmy growing up to find her birth mother’s name dragged through the mud online. That kind of drama sticks around. No matter how deeply it gets buried, it will always resurface eventually.

“You won’t have to. It will all work out.”

“I want to believe you. I just…”

“If you don’t trust yourself, trust in Riley. She won’t let anything happen to your child. She loves her as much as you do.”

I’m not sure if he’s ever spoken to Riley one on one, but given she and Vanessa are close, it wouldn’t surprise me if he were privy to more of the gossip than I am.

Larsson has opened up considerably since I’ve joined the team, but he still keeps to himself a lot. Outside of Andrews, our equipment manager, and Logan and MacGregor, he doesn’t socialize with most of the guys. He’s not antisocial, just autistic. On the ice, he’s laser-focused, and off it, he keeps it hockey related or talks about Vanessa. It’s rare he engages in conversation like this. Since Leo was born, he’s definitely come out of his shell a bit more.

“Thanks, man.” I reach over to clap his shoulder, then think better of it. He’s touch averse, and after he was nice enough to talk me off a ledge, I’d hate to turn around and make him uncomfortable.

He nods, lifting his headphones over his ears again. I guess he’s done being supportive.

I try to nap, but sleep eludes me. My skin itches everywhere, all at once, but I know it’s not an allergic reaction. I merely want to get home to my girls.

Both of them.