Hip Check (New York Blades) (25 page)

Joe wagged his index finger at him affectionately. “Now that’s pushing it, son.”

All of them said they were weren’t hungry. One brew and out. No one wanted to linger.

There was no clinking of glasses when they got their beer, because there was nothing to toast. All they shared at this moment was a collective sense of misery. And then it got personal.

“I guess that effort won’t help you win a new contract from your next team, Finn,” Ulf blurted, as he finished his beer and slammed the mug on the table.

Eric Mitchell stared at him. “That’s out of line, Ulfie. The game is the game and business is business.”

Never one to take a hint, Ulf didn’t back down. “C’mon. You mean you guys haven’t been reading how Esa is out shopping himself around for next year? It doesn’t piss you all off?”

David Hewson answered at once. “No, it doesn’t piss me off. The only leverage any of us have in negotiating with management is the threat of signing someplace else. The minute we slow down or underperform, they’ll cut our ass or ship us off to Columbus for a bag of pucks and a player to be named later.”

“Esa’s playing as hard as ever,” added Rory. “If he sucks, he sucks honestly, just like the rest of us.” That brought some laughter and helped cut the sudden tension.

“The last thing I want to do is leave here,” Esa announced, staring into his beer. “Nell is just getting settled and I don’t want to uproot her. She’s been through too much already.” A brooding silence settled over the table. “I need my agent to push for the best deal I can get because it’s not just about me anymore. It’s about Nell now, too.”

The silence grew uncomfortable. It was finally broken by the sound of sniffling. Ulf lifted his head: there were tears running down his cheeks. “I’m an asshole,” he said simply. “You know I love Nell. I’m sorry.”

Esa stood up, walked around the table to where Ulf was sitting, and planted a kiss on top of the bowling-ball-sized head.

“Time to go,” said Eric Mitchell. “These two need to get a room.”

37

“I know you’re
awake. I can feel the waves of Finnish glumness even in the darkness.”

Michelle’s words cracked some of the gloominess Esa was indeed feeling. Christmas was less than two weeks away, and for five days, he’d deliberately been playing phone tag with his parents. But he knew he couldn’t hide forever.

He reached out, taking her small hand in his, always a comfort. “What are you doing awake?”

“Your glumness. It woke me up. I could
feel
it.”

Esa laughed lightly, turning on his side so he was facing her. He loved being in bed with her, especially since they were being more open about it, Esa not always heading off to his room before Nell awakened. Michelle still struggled with having broken the “Nanny’s Code of Ethics”; she fretted about sending the “right message.” Every time she worried, Esa reminded her that they were demonstrating to Nell what a functioning family unit looked like. “Could look like,” Michelle was always careful to point out. They’d had to make adjustments—he could no longer sleep in the nude, for example, and he had had to sacrifice his bed for Michelle’s—but it seemed minor. And though he still felt sometimes as if he’d slipped into another man’s skin, it was preferable to the life he’d been leading. He hadn’t realized how dead he’d been inside, even before Danika’s passing. Blankness was the perfect way to avoid vulnerability, an empty chalkboard where he decided what was written upon it. Hiding behind a stereotype. Fucking and running was so much safer than sticking around. He wasn’t going to lie: a lot of the time he was scared witless. But better that than wake up one day a pathetic old man with a facelift and bad dye job, clutching a pint-sized bottle of Viagra in his veiny hand and coming on to women half his age. Guilt tapped at his heart as he thought about the burning resentment he’d felt toward Nell when she’d first moved in. He hated that there were things he still couldn’t say to her, no matter how hard he tried. He told himself it would come with time. But then again, he
was
Finnish.

Michelle snaked a hand out from beneath the covers, brushing her knuckles along his jawline. “What’s going on?”

“It’s my parents. They want Nell and me to come over for Christmas. It’s the last thing I want to do. It’ll be joyless. They keep leaving messages and I haven’t been returning their calls.”

“We’ve also been avoiding the subject of the holidays, you know. Nell’s assuming it’s going to be the three of us here.”

“What have you told her?”

“That things were up in the air with your schedule. But I think the uncertainty of it stresses her out a little, Esa.”

“I know, I know.” How good he was at pushing away things he didn’t want to think about. “I really don’t want to go to Finland.”

“You can’t blame them for wanting to see her, Esa,” said Michelle softly.

“Can’t I?” Esa retorted. “They barely visited Danika. Now all of a sudden they want to spend time with Nell?”

“You could have them here. Show them where you work, where Nell goes to school—”

“No way.” The thought brought an unwanted rush of blood to Esa’s head. “I don’t want Nell feeling uncomfortable in her own home. Shit,
I
don’t want to feel uncomfortable in my own home.”

“They could stay at a hotel,” Michelle suggested. Esa knew she was trying to be helpful, but she didn’t know his parents. He didn’t want them infecting the life he’d built for himself in any way, shape, or form.

“It wouldn’t be good enough. They’d criticize New York. They’d hate the apartment. They’d inspect Nell’s room and say she was spoiled.”

“They sound delightful,” Michelle deadpanned.

Esa rolled onto his back, groaning. “There has to be a way out of this.”

It was a long, long time before Michelle rolled on top of him, her chin resting on her palms as she gazed at him. “Got it.”

“What?”

“Meet them in London. They’ve at least been there before, right? Plus it’ll give Nell a chance to see Leslie.”

Esa bit the tip of her nose. “You’re so smart.”

“I know.”

“You’ll love it.”

Michelle lifted her head slightly. “Love what?”

“London. You’ll be with us. You
are
Nell’s nanny.”

Michelle’s lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

“Michelle?”

“Esa, I’m spending Christmas with my father and brother.”

“Fuck.”

Michelle kissed his shoulder, her expression guilty. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. There’s a simple solution: you fly to London to join us the day after Christmas.”

“Brilliant!” She grinned at him. “Like you said, I
am
Nell’s nanny, after all.”

“It’s only for a few days because I have to get back, but like you said, Nell can see Leslie, and it does help me control the interactions with my folks.”

“London,” Michelle marveled.

The stressful sound of the blood whooshing in Esa’s ears was receding, thanks to Michelle’s unabashed amazement over travel.

“I still wish you could be there for Christmas Day itself,” said Esa, his gloom returning for a sudden encore. “The thought of having Christmas dinner in a hotel restaurant—or any restaurant at all—is so depressing . . . Christ. Well, I guess it’s better than being stuck in their house watching my mother cook reindeer and listening to my father recite boring old stories.”

“Maybe you could all go over to see Leslie together,” Michelle suggested, sounding upbeat.

“My parents hate Leslie for giving Nell to me and not them.” He knew he was painting a completely horrible picture of his parents. Perhaps that was because they were miserable people. Unhappy was a better word. They were unhappy.

“I think you’ll agree it’s better if you and I are with Nell when she goes to Leslie’s,” Esa continued. “No way am I dropping her off there on her own with that fuck-face fiancé of Leslie’s there.”

“Good point.” The bedroom was dark, but not so dark he couldn’t see the slow smile spreading across Michelle’s face. “You love her so much.”

“Of course I do,” Esa murmured, tensing. He knew what Michelle wanted him to say next—that she was waiting to see if he would really go there, and it was sending the torrents of blood straight back to his head, the pressure on his skull intense. But she didn’t push. Instead, she pulled closer to him, her head resting on the pillow beside his.

“I hate the thought of you dreading Christmas.”

“I always have.”

“That’s sad, Esa.”

Esa stared up at the ceiling. “I know. Every year, the same present: new skates. Every year, just the four of us. I remember some of my friends’ families would go hiking or sledding. But we never did. My father was always worried I would break my leg and ‘ruin my future.’” Esa snorted. “As if I didn’t do those things with my friends behind his back.” He chuckled softly. “Danika knew. She used to blackmail me: ‘Give me your allowance or I’ll tell Mom and Dad you went sledding with Kai.’ It was one of the few things we shared, that joke.” His throat tightened, a prelude to tears. What the hell was wrong with him, with this stupid, fabricated sentimentality? He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing all his energy on driving away unwanted emotions.

“Esa?” Michelle whispered.

He pulled her tight to him, not wanting to use words. He hoped to Christ she didn’t say something like, “You know you can talk to me.” For some reason, it would make it worse.

But she didn’t. And in the ensuing silence, he came up with an idea. A wonderful idea that would make both him and Nell happy.

“What if Nell and I spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day here with you? And then the day after, the three of us fly to London to meet my folks?”

“But your parents—”

“As long as they get to see Nell, that’ll be all that matters,” Esa cut in. “Trust me. My family has tons of relatives they can spend Christmas with. There’s no way they can kick up much of a fuss when I tell them I don’t have that much time off.”

“I guess that could work,” Michelle said slowly. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t want to dread Christmas this year, Michelle. I want it to be wonderful, especially for Nell. And you know what? It’s going to be.”

38

“When are they
going to be here, Michelle? When, when?”

If Michelle didn’t know better, she’d be worried: she’d never seen Nell this impatient or hyperactive. Then again, she’d never seen Nell on Christmas Day. She asked Esa about it, since he had spent at least a few Christmases with his niece, but he was pretty clueless. “I was usually hungover on Christmas morning,” he admitted sheepishly. “Too much glogg the night before.”

She was glad Esa didn’t dread Christmas this year. Esa’s parents weren’t thrilled when they heard his plan, but there wasn’t much they could do in the face of his bluntness: he told them that there were people in New York Nell was close to, and he thought it important she spend the day with them. London was a good place for them to meet so that Nell could see Leslie. To offset their disappointment he’d booked everyone into Claridge’s, one of the top hotels in London.

Michelle put a hand on Nell’s shoulder to still her, guiding her away from the door. “They’ll be here soon, I promise.” They were due in half an hour, which, knowing her dad, meant the front desk should be buzzing them right . . . about . . . now.

“They’re here!” Nell exclaimed.

Michelle had Henry send them up.

Michelle’s anxiety surprised her. She hadn’t gone out of her way to tell her dad and Jamie about her and Esa, but she wasn’t going to hide it, either. She wanted today to be simple and happy.

She opened the door to the sight of her dad standing there without her brother. There was no need to ask if Jamie was okay, because she knew right away what the deal was.

“Hyraa joulua!”
Nell said to him excitedly. “That’s Finnish for ‘Merry Christmas!’”

“No kidding,” said Michelle’s dad, leaning over to give her a kiss. “Merry Christmas, kiddo.”

“Michelle and I made gingerbread!”

Michelle rolled her eyes affectionately. “Nell, let’s let my dad in the door, okay?”

“Where’s Jamie?” she asked her dad sweetly, taking his coat as he came inside.

Her father wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Took one of the shifts down at the house. He needs the money.”

“Mmm.”

“Michelle.”

“It’s okay, Dad, I get it.”

Her hands trembled slightly as she hung up her father’s coat. Her brother was such an asshole, giving her such a hard time when she’d told him she wouldn’t be over on Christmas Eve, accusing her of abandoning the family, even though she’d pointed out to him that their dad’s apartment would be packed with relatives, and that she’d be seeing him on Christmas Day. He tried to talk her into bringing Nell over both days—without Esa. So what if the Finnish prick spends the holidays alone, he’d sneered. She’d come so dangerously close to telling him she was falling in love with that Finnish prick. And then there was his usual bullshit about their father and his worsening cough, ghoulishly intimating that their dad was on death’s door and that this Christmas might be his last. “Well, then he’ll be spending it here with me, you, Nell, and Esa Saari,” she’d said. She’d stood her ground with Jamie. Now she was being punished for it.

Nell was still wound up like any little kid on Christmas. “Where’s Jamie?” she asked Michelle’s dad.

“Down at the firehouse, kiddo. He had to work. But . . .” her dad said to Nell as if sharing a big secret while he reached into the paper shopping bag he carried, “he did tell me to give you this.” He handed Nell a perfectly square little present. Nell rounded on Michelle. “Can I open it now?”

“In a minute,” Michelle promised. “C’mon, Dad, follow me into the living room.”

“Where’s Saari?” he asked, taking the room in.

Nell actually frowned at him. “His name is Esa,” she corrected politely. “Saari is his last name.”

Michelle’s dad looked taken aback, but he got the message.

“In answer to your question, I think he’s finishing up in the shower. You
are
half an hour early,” Michelle pointed out.

“So shoot me.”

Nell looked at Michelle worriedly. “It’s just American slang, honey. He doesn’t really want me to shoot him.”

“Good.”

Nell bounded on to the couch, pointing at the tall, beautiful fir tree in the corner. “That’s our Christmas tree. I picked it out.”

Michelle’s dad looked impressed.

“And I picked out most of the decorations. Michelle helped, though. Right, Michelle?”

“Yup.”

“What, the Finn had no decorations?” Michelle’s father asked her under his breath. “The guy’s never had a tree before?”

“Dad,” Michelle said very quietly with a hint of warning in her voice, “his name is not ‘the Finn.’ Or ‘Saari.’ It’s Esa, okay? If you slip again, you’re going to upset Nell.”

Her father saluted her. “Gotcha, Chief.” He sat down on the couch beside Nell, pointing at the unwrapped gifts surrounding the tree. “Looks like Santa was good to someone.”

“It’s Father Christmas. And Santa isn’t real.”

“Sure he is.”

“You’re mad.”

Nell’s eyes were glued to the shopping bag on the floor next to Michelle’s dad. Michelle got the feeling she was trying to will gifts out of the bag and onto her lap. She bumped her father’s shoulder, tilting her head in Nell’s direction.

“Whatcha looking at, kiddo?”

“Nothing.”

Michelle’s dad reached into the bag. “Maybe this would interest you?” He passed a gift to Nell.

“Thank you,” Nell said shyly.

Michelle’s dad rattled the shopping bag. “I’ve got your present in here,” he told her. “And Sa—Esa’s.”

Michelle was touched. “You didn’t have to get him a present.”

“Guests should never show up empty-handed, right?”

“Can I open these now?” Nell asked Michelle.

“Let the kid open them,” her father said before Michelle had a chance to answer.

“As if I was going to say no!” She smiled at Nell indulgently. “Go ahead.”

Nell went for her dad’s gift first, delicately opening the wrapping paper. No wild tearing here; it was as if she wanted to save it for next year.

Nell gasped when the present finally revealed itself. “It’s a new Barbie! Thank you, Mr. Beck!”

“Hey, I thought we had an agreement: I call you Nell, you call me Ed.”

Nell blushed. “Thank you, Ed.”

“Enjoy it, kiddo.”

Nell carefully folded the wrapping paper, put it on the coffee table, and opened Jamie’s present, which she’d been clutching tightly ever since Michelle’s dad had handed it to her at the door. It was a Magic 8 Ball. She slowly turned the box over in her hands, eventually looking at Michelle in confusion.

“You ask it questions, and it gives you answers. It’s fun.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll play it after dinner, if you’d like.”

* * *

“Hello, nice to
meet you. I’m Esa.”

“I’m Ed.”

Tumult went through Michelle as Esa shook hands with her dad. The situation suddenly felt charged. What if they rubbed each other the wrong way?

“Where’s your brother?” Esa asked Michelle.

“He took a shift at the firehouse,” she replied. “He gets double pay plus overtime.”

“That’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing him.”

“Got you a little something,” Michelle’s dad said to Esa, whose eyes shot to Michelle’s questioningly. She shrugged. She was as much in the dark as he was. The impish look on her dad’s face as he handed Esa his gift worried her. Her father and Uncle Micky had been known around the firehouse for their off-color gifts. If he’d bought Esa a book of dirty jokes or one of those pens with a woman on it in a bikini that disappears when you turn it upside down, she’d kill herself.

Michelle found it hard to gauge Esa’s reaction when he opened her dad’s gift and held it against him: it was an Islanders jersey with his name on it. But as a slow smile spread across his face that turned into an appreciative laugh, Michelle’s worries abated. Things would probably go well today. It might even be a blessing her brother wasn’t here.