Marek (Cold Fury Hockey #11)(9)
And there’d always be a dessert: pies, cakes, or homemade ice cream.
Sundays were my favorite day of the week when I was back in the modestly sized town of Wilkie, New York. Not only because of the food, but because the day was spent with just my parents and Lilly. Owen didn’t go to church, and he didn’t do family dinners either.
At least not at the small, cheap dining table of Sheryl and Tim Moore.
It was beneath him, although he would never come out and say that. He always said he had to work or made some other equally lame excuse, and I let him.
I let him because I didn’t want him there, impeding on my family time with those I loved the most.
I close the oven door, set the timer on my iPhone, and consider dessert for today. My eyes catch on movement outside the window over the sink and I can’t help but smile as I watch Marek playing with Lilly. By playing, I mean she’s walking around the yard and checking things out, picking flowers and such. He’s following and watching. I can tell by his posture that he’s totally ill at ease, but the smile on his face is genuine as he soaks her in. He has no clue what to do with Lilly, but I’m not too worried about it. She’ll teach him soon enough.
Yesterday’s conversation was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life. It’s going to take some time for Lilly to get this, but she’ll grow into the relationship with Marek. I’m sure she’ll get there a lot more easily than he will.
Last night as I was tucking her into bed, she said, “I like this house.”
I was expecting something like that. Not an overt question about learning Marek was her father, because that’s also a concept she’s going to have to figure out over time, but a roundabout way of poking to get a better grasp on things.
“You like living here?” I asked her with a smile.
Lilly nodded. “I like my bedroom. And I’ve got more toys here than back at Mimi and G-Pa’s house.”
I snicker to myself. When Marek dumped us here and took off to the beach, I put his credit card to good use outfitting Lilly’s room. I figured a professional hockey player had no limit on his credit, and thus I bought her a new bedroom set that was fit for a princess, plush bedding, fantastical pictures for the walls, and a shitload of toys, stuffed animals, and books. Marek never said a word to me about it.
“Well, I’m not sure if we’re going to stay here or not,” I told Lilly. I didn’t want her to see this as a permanent place for us, because my gut instinct said we should get our own home sooner rather than later. My only problem was that I didn’t know how in the hell I was going to swing that without any income or savings.
My iPhone—which I’m still holding in my hand as I look out the kitchen window—rings loudly, which startles me into almost dropping it. My lips break apart into a huge grin and I answer, “Hey, Mom. You and Dad just getting back from church?”
Warm and comforting, my mother’s voice fills me with peace. “We did, and I’m making a meat loaf for lunch. Just getting started and thought I’d give you a call first.”
Mmmm. I love my mom’s meat loaf, and maybe I should make it this week.
“How are things going?” she asks, her voice dropping an octave with built-in mom concern. She’s not worried about my safety, or Lilly’s for that matter. She’s not worried that I’m plunged into a new world five hundred miles from the comfort of home. In fact, I’m sure she was so relieved I wasn’t marrying Owen, she’d have almost sent me to the doorstep of hell, as that would have been preferable to Owen in her mind.
No, my mom is worried about Marek making me suffer for my past sins. After five years of our hard-core dating, my mom knows Marek almost as well as I do. He spent as much time at our house as he did at his own. But then again, I spent a hell of a lot of time at his parents’ house too. They are amazing and I missed them the way I missed Marek when he left.
“Things are fine,” I tell my mom, but then again, Marek could be beating me and I wouldn’t worry her with it. She’s done enough worrying about me over the last few years and deserves a break. “We told Lilly last night that he’s her daddy.”
“What did she say?”
“Not much. I think she gets it somewhat, but it will be a process.”
“I miss my Lilly Bug,” my mom says wistfully. “I miss you too, of course.”
My laugh is soft and sad. “We miss you a lot.”
“Will you be staying there?” she asks, trying to hide the tiny sniffle on the end of her question.
“At least until I can help Lilly understand who Marek is and give him an opportunity to solidify a relationship. I owe him that at least.”
“Oh, honey,” my mom murmurs into the phone, and her sympathy makes my eyes water. “You did what you thought was best at the time and with the information you had. I think it’s time to stop beating yourself up over it.”
I cough to clear my throat and change the subject to something that’s even more depressing to me than thinking of all the ways I’ve wronged Marek. “Have you heard from Owen?”
My mom gives an exasperated harrumph sound. “He’s been by twice.”
It never crossed my mind that Owen would go by to check on my parents to see how they’re doing, because Owen would never do that in a million years. The only reason he would go by is if it benefits him, because he’s selfish that way.