“When? If you called on the day she was born, I would have remembered. I got my shit together after that night in Boston. My dad came the next day, took one look at me, and I started therapy that same day. I haven’t touched drugs or drank in excess since that night.” His admission takes me by surprise.
What does that mean if, after all this time, he hasn’t reached out to me? I had convinced myself it was because he was still drowning himself in liquor and bad decisions each night. But I should’ve known better. An elite athlete, which is what I’ve heard Griffin be called by broadcasters, can’t dissolve their problems in booze and drugs and still play at this level.
“I did tell you again. I called you from Carson’s phone on the night she was born, but like every other attempt, it went to voicemail. So Itexted you and told you that I had a girl and to call me. I took one look at her beautiful face inside the incubator they had her in, and I knew I had to tell you at least she existed. That you had a daughter who was a perfect little fighter.”
“Fuck. Goddammit.”
“What?”
“When was she born?”
“March 29th.”
“As in right before the Frozen Four?”
“Yes, Griffin.”
“McKenna, shit, I’m sorry. I can’t say for certain if I was in the right headspace to pick up the phone or not at that time, but I honestly didn’t have my phone anymore. I gave it up after that night in Boston when I started therapy. My agent, Jared, had it, and he hired a publicist to take over my social media accounts. I still haven’t been on social media in almost two years, which explains how I didn’t know until today that you even had a child.”
Not that he needs to know, but I don’t post anything about Cadence on my social media. It’s important to me to keep her out of the media.
“I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around everything. Why did you choose to disconnect your phone?” I question.
“My therapist suggested blocking out things that triggered my anxiety and panic attacks I was having at the time. One major trigger for me was my old phone because of the photos on it and the social media memories that would come up. Every time I felt like I was coming up for a breath of air, a memory popped up on my phone, letting the grief resurface and pull me back under. So, I handed it over to Jared. He would tell me if anything major came up, but my dad, my coach, and my teammates all had my new number, so I didn’t really use it much. I disconnected my old number when I signed with Colorado after theFrozen Four. I didn’t think to check my messages with the chaos of moving.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s hard for me to believe you when the timing came literally days after I called to tell you about her, Griffin.”
“And you don’t think I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that I just now found out I have a daughter?”
“If I have to try to be understanding of your situation, you need to try to put yourself in my shoes.”
Griffin
I take a deep breath, and as my anger begins to subside, I curse myself for my stubbornness. “I’m sorry, McKenna. You’re right. I apologize. That was unfair of me. I just don’t want to miss another second of her life. Please, Kenna. I’ve already missed so much.”
Seeing that she’s not ready to discuss whether or not I can see Cadence yet, I look into Kenna’s eyes and plead. “Will you tell me about her, please?”
She’s still visibly upset, which is understandable. But she takes a calming breath, and then it’s as if she can’t help but smile as she begins to tell me all about Cadence.
“Well . . . her name is Cadence Aelia Wilder. Like I said earlier, her birthday is March 29th. She was born at thirty-three weeks, so we had to stay in the NICU for a little over a month. She was four and a half pounds and eighteen inches long. From the moment she arrived into the world, she’s shown she’s a fighter. She had a heart procedure at only eight days old.”
Kenna must see the panic in my eyes because she reassures me quickly. “Cadence is okay now. You’d never even know she had a heart condition. Now she’s at the top of her growth charts, which isn’t typical of a preemie-baby.” I watch in awe as she continues with sheer pride and joy, which is evident in the way she talks about her daughter.Our daughter.
“She’s an absolute spitfire . . . no clue where she gets that from. It seems like she learns a handful of new words each day. She possesses enough sass in one pinky to take down a grown hockey player,” Kenna jokes.
I know exactly where she got the spitfire attitude.
“Why did you name her Cadence? Did you know you were having a girl?”
“She’s named after your mom and sister. Carson calls her Cadey Cat, though I can’t bring myself to call her that. Even after all this time,” she says, looking down at the ground. “I didn’t know the gender until she came. I was still trying to wrap my head around being nineteen and pregnant. I didn’t even know I was actually pregnant until almost halfway through the pregnancy.”
Shit, I should’ve been there. She was all alone in this.
“You said her middle name is Aelia. What’s that after?” I think I hear Kenna’s sharp intake of breath in response to my question.
“Aelia means sunshine,” she whispers so low I think I hear her wrong.
Sunshine.
