Page 14 of Here We Go Again

“I like your crown, Uncle Theo,” Charlie says as Holly dries her off. “But you should take it off before you get in the water.”

I completely forgot about my crown, and the look on Holly’s face says he finds it highly amusing that I’m wearing one. Not that he has any room to talk. The last time we worked out together, he showed up to the gym with purple fingernails.

Beckett Hollifield might be one of the most impenetrable goalies in the NHL, but he’s a big softy when it comes to his daughter.

Apparently, I am too, because I end up tossing Charlie into the deep end at least twenty times instead of the ten she negotiated. Before long, Poppy and Olive come back outside, and suddenly I’m a human jungle gym, a little girl hanging off each of my arms and another clinging to my neck.

It’s Sarah who eventually comes to my rescue.

“Okay, girls,” she calls from the side of the pool. “Time to come inside. If you’re quick getting into dry clothes, we can watch a movie before dinner.”

“But we want to keep swimming,” Poppy says. “Theo can stay with us.”

“Theo needs some grown-up time with his teammates, which means you turkeys have to leave him alone,” Sarah says. “Now, come on. First one to the couch gets to pick the movie.”

That kicks the older girls into gear, and they scramble to the stairs and head for the house. I walk Olive, who is too little to make it on her own, over to the edge of the pool where Sarah lifts her out of my arms and wraps her up in a towel.

“You’re a good sport,” she says as she squeezes the water out of Olive’s hair.

“Nah, they make it easy,” I say.

She eyes me, like it isn’t quite the answer she expected, and her expression softens. “Are you staying for dinner? It won’t be fancy. Probably just pizza.”

“Sure,” I say. “Sounds good.”

She nods, then carries Olive inside.

I hoist myself out of the pool, then grab my towel and phone from the chair where I left them and head over to where Carter and Holly are sitting in the shade. Next to Carter, Fiona is stretched out in a stroller thing, sound asleep. Carter has one hand on the handle and is slowly rolling it forward and back.

I drop into a seat across from my brother and scroll through my notifications.

“Did Mom try to call you?” I ask, and he glances at his own phone.

“I haven’t heard from her. You?”

“Three times,” I say, suddenly wondering if I should be worried. She’s not normally so persistent unless something’s up. Though she would have tried Carter as well if there were a true emergency. But then I check my text messages.

“Is she okay?” Carter asks, voice tinged with concern.

“She’s fine,” I grumble. “She texted. She was just checking in.”

“Three times in one afternoon?” Carter says. “What did you do to worry her?”

I have no idea, but Mom has definitely been calling me a lot more lately. Maybe because of my injury and all the time I’ve been spending in rehab. Or maybe because my identical twin is married now, and suddenly, I’m on my own a lot more than I ever was before.

I sigh and toss my phone onto the table. “Who knows? When did you last talk to her?”

Carter’s expression freezes, then his eyes dart to the side. “Uh, I can’t remember,” he says, but something is different. He’s cagey, like he’s hiding something.

“What did you do?” I ask him.

“Nothing,” he says a little too quickly.

“Carter,” I press, and he sighs.

“I might have accidentally mentioned that you went by the hospital to see Becca.”

I sit up, dropping my hands onto the table. “Dude. Why would you do that?”