“Wait,” she spins the shirts around and I know what she’s looking for.
“They all say Norris,” I tell her.
“Oh, good. This is super sweet, but if I started walking around campus with multiple hockey players’ names on my back, the rumor mill would really have something to talk about.”
“Nope. No nasty rumors on my watch. I mean it, Maggie. If people are running their mouths and it’s bothering you, I will shut that shit down.”
“A funny thing happened today. Josie sought me out in the library today and invited me to movie night with the other girlfriends tomorrow.” Maggie’s sorting through the bounty now, her finger tracing the logo on a silver-gray sweatshirt. “And then your teammates really gave me the shirts off their backs.”
I nod. “Well, not literally off their backs, but yeah. And I bet Josie invited you because she likes you and wants to hang out. You’re family. And we take care of our own,” I tell Maggie, because even though I think of myself as a lone wolf sometimes, my team is making it clear that I belong. “Just so you know, if the guys were here now, Pete would be howling like a wolf.”
“I’m kinda glad your teammates aren’t in our bedroom,” she says, looping her fingers into the waistband of my basketball shorts. “I mean, gifting these shirts was so nice, and I’m very grateful. I’ll have to bake them cookies or something. But I want to show my appreciation to you, too, and I don’t want an audience for that.”
My shorts fall to the floor in record time. I’m all in for whatever Maggie has in mind.
CHAPTER 36
JT
Since I startedto lean on my team just a little, things have been a bit easier. Maggie has gotten close with the other guys’ girlfriends and even bonded with Vlad. They share a love of gardening and apparently, he can grow the hell out of a Venus fly trap. Why am I not surprised?
Our schedule is ramping up though and regionals are right around the corner. We just got back from a road trip up the East Coast, and we have two games against Mountville at home this weekend. Coach gave us a day to rest, but instead of catching up on sleep, I’m going to school.
Parenting school.
I’ve been doing a ton of reading, but I’m no expert on babies. Instead of winging it like an idiot or relying on Maggie to guide me, I’m getting lessons from the best parents I know: Josie and Pete.
They may not be actual, biological parents, but Josie’s taken care of her younger siblings for the past five years. Iris, the youngest one, was only a couple months old when their parents died in a car accident, so she’s got lots of experience with babies. As for Pete, not only does he manage to wrangle the hockey team into submission—which is no easy feat—buthe’s been helping out with his two brothers since their dad split years ago.
These two know a whole lot more than I do about parenting, which is why I’m sitting at Josie’s kitchen island on a Wednesday afternoon, with a stack of baby doll clothes to my left and a stack of diapers to my right. Milo, Josie’s eight-year-old brother, sits across from me with a stopwatch in his grip. Pete and Van are at the table, pounding sports drinks and laughing their asses off.
“You ready?” Milo asks, his thumb damn near twitching.
I look down at Baby Lala, Jr., the doll Iris gave to me. The OG Lala is headless, so this one’s a step up, even if her face is covered in Sharpie.
“I’ve got two minutes to fold this laundry and diaper the baby?” I ask, even though I’m well aware of the challenge before me.
“Yep,” Milo says, a gleam in his eye. This kid’s up to something. I’m just not sure what.
I nod and he starts the time the second my chin dips. My hands are bigger than the clothes I’m folding, but my fingers are nimble, so I make quick work of the stack. I’ve been doing my own laundry since I was Milo’s age, so folding doesn’t scare me. That task accomplished with time to spare, I scoop up the baby and start unfolding a diaper. I’ve never done this before, but I’m going to let common sense take the lead. It’s got to close in the front, otherwise the kid would have to be face-down at some point, and I’m pretty sure that’s a safety hazard. I’ve got the diaper open and I’m about to fasten one of the tabs when a blob hits me square in the chest. Startled, I look up to see another glop of goo being launched in my direction. Tillie, Milo’s twin, is behind the attack, and she can’t contain her giggles. Neither can Milo and Iris. “What the heck?” I ask as my eyes focus back on the task in front of me. This sticky tab is really sticky, dammit.
“It’s projectile vomit!” Milo croons gleefully.
“And poo!” Iris chimes in, tossing another glob in my direction before lobbing one across the room at Van, who deftly catches it in his mouth.
“It’s brownie bites,” he says around a mouthful.
Santos cracks up. “You better hope that’s what it is. I wouldn’t trust these three.”
“Done!” I call out, smoothing the tab across the diaper before pumping my fist in the air.
Milo whistles his approval. “One minute and seventeen seconds. That’s gotta be a record.”
“That’s pretty good,” Tillie offers. “But you should try it with real baby clothes. Your time would be more accurate. We tried getting you a real baby because Miss Emily next door has one, but she said no.”
“Well, it was nice of you to try,” I say, not blaming Miss Emily one bit for refusing to let a stranger diaper her baby all in the name of practice. “And Maggie has picked up a couple things for the baby, but you’re right. I need game-like conditions. We’re playing at home Friday and Saturday, so I’m taking Maggie shopping on Sunday. That’ll give me plenty of time to sharpen my folding skills with actual clothes before the baby gets here.”
“You’re shopping on Sunday?” Josie asks, strolling into the room. “You should stop here first. I’ve got some things left over from Iris that are still in good shape, and our neighbor has some things she’s ready to get rid of, too. Van and I can gather it all up for Sunday. Maybe around one? Right, Van?” She pins Van and Santos with a look, and I’m guessing she’s got a to-do list they’re working their way through.
