back in her life. I haven’t pushed for a lot of details on the situation there, but this distance she’s created has been purposeful. I’m also aware that she speaks to her mother several times a week, which tells me that—as much as Lainey wants to prove she can do this on her own—there’s still a lot of love there.
Her mom calls again less than fifteen minutes later, so I answer this time. “Hello.”
“I’m sorry—I must have dialed the wrong number.”
“You’re looking for Lainey?”
That makes her pause. “I . . . yes. Who is this?”
“It’s RJ. Rook, Lainey’s . . . friend.” I cringe a little at that. I don’t think I’d classify myself as her friend at this point, but she’s not referring to me as her boyfriend, and it’s not like there have been a lot of opportunities for dating. Middle-of-the-night accidental spooning doesn’t really count.
Her mother scoffs. “Is that what you’re calling yourself, now? You get my daughter pregnant, lie to her about who you are, and then it’s a year before you show your face again. Some friend you are. I suppose you think that just because you’re some big-time hockey player none of the usual rules apply to you.”
As much as getting chewed out by Lainey’s mom sucks, I get where she’s coming from. And I tell her as much. “With all due respect, Mrs. Carver, I understand why you’re unhappy with me. If I had a daughter and this happened to her, I would do everything in my power to protect her—and I sure as heck wouldn’t have any kind of warm feelings toward that guy, which I realize is me in this case.”
“Well, I can’t say you’re wrong about my feelings toward you. Lainey’s always been a special girl—she’s delicate—”
“Maybe not as delicate as you think, though.”
“You don’t know what she’s been through.”
“You mean the shooting at her college?”
“She told you about that?” She seems shocked.
“She did. Alaska has some pretty bad storms in the summer, which is an understandable trigger for her.”
“She never talks about that with anyone,” her mother says softly. “I’d like to speak with her now, please.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Carver. As much as I’d like to be able to get her for you, she’s not well, and she’s sleeping right now. I’m sure you can understand why I wouldn’t want to wake her up.”
“Unwell? What’s wrong?”
“I think she has the flu.”
“The flu? You better not have gotten my daughter pregnant again.”
There’s real threat behind her words. “I’m sure it’s the flu and that she’s definitely not pregnant. That’s not . . . that would be impossible.” And that, right there, has to be the most awkward of awkward first conversations with the woman I’m assuming will one day be my mother-in-law.
“Well, that’s a relief.” I think that’s sarcasm, but I can’t be sure. “How sick is she? Should you take her to the hospital? Do I need to come out there? I kept telling her working at an aquarium wouldn’t be good for her. It’s a cesspool of germs and disease. It’s actually amazing that she hasn’t gotten sick before now. She really just needs to be done with this and come home so she can have the help she needs to raise that child.”
“Lainey has me.”
“Is that right? And for how long is that going to be the case? Do you know anything about raising children? Who’s going to be there when you’re traveling all over the place and she’s taking care of that baby alone?”
“She has friends here, and so do I. There are other wives—”
“Other wives?” she screeches in my ear. “Oh my God, did you elope? Did you marry my daughter without even asking permission first?”
I can see now why Lainey ended up moving halfway across the country. “No, that’s not . . . I meant the other players’ wives. We didn’t elope. I’ve made a lot of mistakes with Lainey . . .”
“Oh, you think so?” Her sarcasm is on point.
“I should’ve told Lainey the truth about my job from the start. My life is complicated—and that’s not an excuse, but know that I never wanted to lose contact with Lainey. If I’m completely honest, I was gutted when I couldn’t reach her after I left Alaska, and when I found her again and realized what had happened, I was devastated all over again. I missed her entire pregnancy—I missed the birth of my son and the first four months of his life. I