Trade Deadline - Avon Gale Page 0,25
on our ornaments. We’re making snowflakes.”
“Snowflakes!” Tabby said. “That’ll be nice for the Christmas tree.”
“I’m making two. I told Mrs. O’Donnell we decorate after Thanksgiving, and I need one for each tree.”
Daniel smiled. He’d gotten one last year too, something vaguely star shaped, made with an abundance of gold glitter and presented to him with a kindergartner’s joyful enthusiasm.
He and Tabby had been blessed with such kind, thoughtful kids. Christmas was a little over a month away, and it would only be their second in separate households, yet Gretchen and Nathaniel had handled the recent transitions so much better than Daniel had ever expected. Last year when they still lived in Atlanta, they’d spent Christmas Eve at Daniel’s place and Christmas morning with Tabby and her family. There’d been a few tears when Tabby picked them up—as there had been throughout the entire process once they finally decided to separate—but overall, the kids had adjusted amazingly well.
It probably had to do with moments like these, when they all hung out together, chatting about nothing and everything. Daniel and Tabby weren’t sniping at each other like some divorced couples. There was still love and respect and a mutual agreement to do the best by their kids. That would never change.
“What about you, Nate?” Daniel asked his son, who was inhaling his pasta with single-minded focus. “How was school?” Starting third grade in a whole new state couldn’t have been easy when Nathaniel had come up with the same group of classmates since preschool, but he was an incredibly adaptable kid and seemed relatively unfazed by the change. Probably because he still kept in touch with his old friends through some online game called Roblox, which Daniel only partly understood but seemed harmless enough.
Nathaniel shrugged, noodles half hanging out of his mouth. He slurped them up and swallowed. “It was okay. We talked about our state projects. We need to have them done and do a big presentation at the end of the year.”
Daniel speared a shrimp with his fork. “What do you have to do, exactly?”
While Nathaniel discussed having to build a model featuring major elements representing his chosen state—he’d picked Georgia—they finished their meal and pulled out tubs of ice cream for a make-your-own sundae bar.
With the kids stuffed and sent to the dining room table to work on their school assignments, and the dogs following along behind them, Daniel and Tabby worked together to clean up the kitchen. Between the two of them, it didn’t take long before the surfaces were gleaming and Tabby was popping open a bottle of chilled moscato.
They went out to the back patio with their glasses and settled on separate lounge chairs. The weather was in the low seventies, cool enough for Tabby to be wearing a thin fleece zip-up, but Daniel tended to run hot and welcomed the mild breeze. Blue lights from the pool lit the area well enough he didn’t feel the need to turn on any of the other lanterns. It was relaxed and casual and quiet for the few minutes it took Tallulah to wander out to join them. Kiki followed soon after, jumping up into Tabby’s lap to lick at Tabby’s face and nearly causing a wine spillage.
Tabby laughed and ran a hand along Kiki’s curly furred back to settle her down. “That’s a good girl, Keeks. Why don’t you lie down for a bit, huh, sweetie?”
Kiki was only happy to obey—a lap was her favorite spot, but Tabby’s especially.
“How’s everything with the team?” Tabby asked. “I feel like we haven’t gotten much time to talk lately.”
Daniel had been gone for almost a week for a few away games on the West Coast, and then it was back to practices and a home game and spending a couple of days catching up with Gretchen and Nathaniel. He and Tabby hadn’t had a conversation that didn’t revolve around schedules or the kids in quite a while.
“It’s fine. I mean, about the same, really, but I’m dealing with it. I’ve had to remind myself it’s still early days, all things considered.”
The guys had thawed slightly, but some of them, particularly the captain, hadn’t gotten over their reservations that he was there as part of some kind of hostile takeover attempt.
Tabby made a humming sound and sipped her wine. “It’s hard starting over. You were with the Venom for a decade. You knew them, and they knew you. That sort of dynamic takes time to develop, and like you said, it’s