Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I bristle. “I’ve managed just fine by myself.”
“Sure. But it’s always easier with help.” She leans closer, earnest. “Atlas is solid. He’s stubborn as hell, but he means what he says. And the Titans family? We show up. We’ll show up for you too.”
I shake my head. “I don’t understand why. I’m not part of the team.”
“Grayce is,” Winnie counters gently. “That makes you part of it, whether you like it or not. You don’t have to buy the merch or memorize stats. You just have to let us in a little.”
I swallow hard, because the idea of letting anyone in both tempts and terrifies me. “I’ll… think about it.”
“Good enough for now,” she says brightly. Then, as if she senses the heaviness, she switches gears. “By the way, I heard there’s going to be an opening at our school. Our counselor’s leaving at the end of the year.”
I blink. “School counselor?”
“Elementary. You’d be perfect. You already work with kids, you’d get to be part of the community—”
I cut her off with a shake of my head. “No, thank you.”
Winnie cocks an eyebrow, likely assuming I’m declining help because of past traumas. But for once, that’s not true. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just… that’s not really what I love. My heart’s with kids in the system.”
Her eyes fill with understanding. “It’s your calling,” she concludes.
I nod, a small smile in place.
“Then you stick to that,” she says. “I’m guessing there are a lot of kids out there who could use your help.”
We shift into lighter chatter after that—her favorite coffee shops, the latest ridiculous thing Lucky did in a TikTok. She doesn’t stay long, and I’m grateful, as I really have work to do. But when she leaves, I strangely find myself feeling a bit sad.
Winnie hugs me tight enough I can’t wriggle free, but I’m not so sure I want to. And when I close the door behind her, the house feels emptier than it did when Atlas left earlier.
♦
I stand in the kitchen, looking at the mess that must be cleaned up before I can go to bed. It’s been another exhausting day, but it wasn’t without success. Grayce woke up from her nap seemingly better, or at least fussing less. In fact, she had such a great nap this afternoon while Winnie was visiting, she was a little difficult to get to sleep tonight. She was all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and no amount of warm baths, bottles of milk, or repeat loops of Gray’s awful “You Are My Sunshine” could get those eyes to close.
Finally, she went down and now I’m ready for dreamland as well.
But first, the kitchen.
It was only me for dinner, but it looks like I cooked for an army. That’s because I went ahead and prepped several meals for the week, not really knowing if Atlas would be here. We haven’t talked about routines and splits of duties and expectations. And we definitely need to talk about finances.
But I didn’t want to cook for myself only, so I made double the meals, which basically means double the mess.
I glance at my watch, see that it’s nearing eight thirty p.m., and wonder how long it will be before Atlas gets home. I have no clue how long a game lasts, but he did say he wasn’t going out tonight. That sort of led to a mini argument wherein I had to insist it was okay if he did and he had to insist he didn’t want to, and then it sort of fizzled out into a grudging agreement that it really didn’t matter what he did.
Curiosity strikes from nowhere and I have the sudden urge to watch the game. Not that I care about hockey—because I don’t like sports—but more because I am curious as to Atlas’s role on the team and how that will mold Grayce’s life. The whole Titans dynasty has been billed to me as a family unit, which implies every position is equally important. Is he one of the better players? Do the fans like him more than others?
I rationalize that I want to know because I need to protect Grayce from… well, I don’t know what, but it’s always good to research.
Ignoring the disaster in the kitchen, I grab the remote control and turn on the TV. It doesn’t take me long to find the game and Atlas’s TV is so large, it’s like I’m on the ice itself.
I turn down the volume so the announcers don’t distract me and spend several minutes trying to find Atlas. It’s nearly impossible as I realize the players rotate on and off the ice. I make a mental note to find out about that, but eventually, I spot him.
I’m not sure how it’s possible, but he looks even taller and more powerful on ice. He also looks more graceful, even though I soon learn, this is a rough-and-tumble sport. Players get slammed into the ice and the walls and two players get into a fight. I’m appalled and fascinated at the same time.