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His heart was going so hard he could hear it.
Charlotte looked at their hands.
“Like Leo and Dawson?”
Ford’s throat went tight. “Yeah, bug, like Leo and Dawson.”
She had a piece of chicken halfway to her mouth, and she stopped it there and looked at their hands for a while. Ford sat with his heart in his ears and Cole’s fingers against his and waited for whatever was coming.
“Okay,” she said and ate the chicken.
Cole made a sound. Ford didn’t look at him. He couldn’t.
“Is that it?” Ford said. “You’ve got no questions?”
“I have one.” She swallowed. She looked at Cole, not at Ford. “Does that mean you’re not going to leave?”
The kitchen went quiet.
Cole’s fingers went still against Ford’s. Ford watched him take the question in. Watched it land somewhere Ford had never been allowed to see. For a moment, he thought Cole wouldn’t be able to answer.
“No, bug.” Cole’s voice was rough. “I’m not going to leave.”
“Okay.” She nodded like that settled it. “Can I be done?”
“You can be done.”
She slid off her chair and went to find her spelling list, leaving the two of them at the table with their hands still touching.
Ford let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding since Wednesday.
Cole hadn’t moved. He was looking at the doorway she’d gone through, and his eyes were wet, and he wasn’t hiding it. Then he pressed the heel of his hand against one eye and held it there.
“Hey.” Ford turned his hand over and took hold of Cole’s. “She’s fine. That went about as good as it could go.”
“I know.”
“So what’s this?”
Cole took his hand off his eye. He looked at the table.
“I just promised a six-year-old I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “And I don’t get to decide that.”
Ford didn’t say anything.
“You know what March is.” Cole’s voice was low and even. “You’ve been in this league twelve years. Guys get moved. Guys get moved for nothing, for a pick, for cap room. I’m a right-shot defenseman with nine years of pro on me, and that’s exactly what a parent club goes shopping for in March.” He finally looked up. “What do I say to her if the phone rings? I’m sorry, bug, I know what I told you at this table?”
Ford had thought about it. He’d thought about it more than he’d ever let Cole see. He’d never once let himself think about it with Charlotte in the picture.
“Then we deal with it,” he said.
“That’s not a plan.”
“It’s what I’ve got.” Ford held on to his hand. “If the phone rings, it rings, and the three of us sit down at this table and figure out what it means. You don’t do it alone. You don’t pack a bag and go quiet on me and decide for everybody. We figure it out.”
Cole looked at him a long time.
“The three of us,” he said.
