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“You okay, Son?” he asks when he’s done with the litany. “Your hip solid?”
“Yup, fine.” It’s just my confidence that’s battered.
When we hang up, I can’t stop thinking about how neatly Gavin put me in my place. He didn’t just bring me down a few steps on the ego ladder, he sent me sliding all the way to the basement.
I make another ice pack for my hip, and lie down in bed, wishing his capable hands were still stretching me. I strain my ears to hear sounds of life from his place next door.
But all I hear is silence.
* * *
The next morning we’re off on a road trip—Minnesota and then Chicago. I’m just rolling my bag out into the hallway when I hear Gavin’s door opening.
My first reaction is to wince, because I’m embarrassed by the way I’ve acted toward him. Twice.
Still, I man up, turn around and smile.
It’s not Gavin at all, though. It’s a girl—probably the same one who singsFrozenat the top of her lungs. She’s not little, but not big, either. Sort of a medium-sized kid, wearing jeans, Chucks, and a black ski jacket.
“Hi?” I say, wondering if Gavin is about to reveal himself.
“Hi!” she squeaks. “I’m Jordyn. You’re Hudson Newgate. Jersey number twenty-two. Defenseman.”
“Uh, yup.” Maybe she knows my face because Gavin—her…uncle? He’s too young to be her dad—has already put my photo on the family dartboard.
“Could I…” She swallows. “Could I have your autograph?”
“You want…”Really?This is hilarious. “Okay. Sure. You got a pen?”
“Jordyn! Where are you?” Gavin’s voice rings out. “Is your backpack ready?”
She glances over her shoulder. “Just a minute, Daddy!”
Daddy?
I’m sure there’s shock on my face when Gavin appears behind her in the doorway. He frowns at me. “Problem?”
“No,” I say after a beat of confusion. “She was just, um…”
“Asking for his autograph!” she says cheerfully.
Gavin’s frown deepens. “I’m sorry,” he says to me. “Jordyn, he’s on his way to catch a plane. You can’t badger him in his own hallway.”
“But Daddy…!”
He pulls her back inside without a word to me, and closes the door. I can still hear them, though. “Is that why you’ve been hanging out in front of the door? This is his home. You can’t pounce on a guy who’s just trying to get through his day.”
“He didn’t mind!” she insists. “I almost had his autograph! I could show the kids in my class! I told them I live next door to Hudson Newgate and Daddy, they didn’tbelieveme. They said I’m a weirdo.”
“Oh, baby,” he says. “Is the new school that bad?”
“I don’t haveanyfriends.”
Ouch. My phone buzzes in my pocket, though, reminding me that there’s a car waiting outside. And I realize I’m just standing here eavesdropping like a creeper.
So I tiptoe toward the stairs and make my exit.
* * *
