MITCH
I had three days, three tasks to complete, and zero time to waste.
There were only three days because I was a member of the National Hockey League's Portland Storm, and we were on our league-mandated days off for Christmas. I'd left Portland for my hometown of Brandon, Manitoba, as soon as the team had finished our final game before the break. I barely made it through security and to my gate in time for the flight, but I would have lost half a day had I waited until tomorrow. As it was, I was due to catch the last possible plane out on the afternoon of the twenty-sixth so as not to miss morning skate on the twenty-seventh. So really, I supposed it wasn't even three full days when you got right down to it. That was why I couldn't mess around.
Particularly when you considered the three tasks I'd set for myself.
First, I planned to clear out the last of my things from the small house in our hometown that I'd shared with Mia for the past seven years until our divorce over the summer. We'd moved around a lot during hockey season over the years, but we'd always kept this little house near our families for when the off-season rolled around. I'd need a little help to get my training equipment out, but Jason Redwine and Zach Farmer—two guys who'd been my friends for as long as I could remember—had promised the use of their trucks, along with whatever physical strength was necessary. We would take care of it all together, much as we'd done almost everything over the years, at least until I made it to the NHL. These days I wasn't always around to help them out when they needed it, but if I could help, I did.
Second, I wanted to spend every spare moment with my little girl, Marley Lynn. I didn't know what Mia's plans for the holidays might be, but she'd have to adjust them. Mia might have custody, but Marley was my daughter, too. A daughter I hadn't seen in months, not since she was just beginning to crawl. Marley was over a year old and she was walking. I had missed so much already, and I'd be damned if I'd let my ex keep my daughter from me while I was in town and could spend time with her. I'd lost so much time already that I'd never be able to get back. I didn't even know if she'd remember me—I mean, I Skyped with her sometimes, but that wasn't the same as being live and in the flesh, and during the season we didn't get enough time off to travel home very often—but I couldn't worry about that or I'd just tear myself up worse.
And third, I had a meeting scheduled with my lawyer so we could file a formal petition with the courts for joint custody. Mia had been granted full custody at first, because she was breast feeding and my life was far from stable—I had played for eight different NHL teams in the last five years—but things were changing now.
Marley was eating solid foods, and it looked like I might have finally found a home with the Storm. I had contacted a reputable nanny service and knew that I could take care of Marley if she came to stay with me for short visits. I wanted to be able to have longer visits with my little girl—at least something more than the nonexistent ones I was currently receiving.
I was supposed to get a couple of hours a few days a week, but since I wasn't even in the same country as Mia and my daughter, those visits weren't happening other than during the offseason, so really only three or four months out of the year. At the very least, I wanted the courts to order Mia to bring my daughter to me on occasion. I'd pay for it, but going for months on end without even seeing my baby, without hearing her infectious giggle was killing me. It was bad enough that I hadn't heard Mia laugh, hadn't seen her smile, in so long I almost couldn't remember how her eyes lit up. If we kept going like this, the same would be true for Marley. I'd be damned if I was going to let that happen.
All of this was running through my head for the thousandth time as I headed for the regional airport's baggage claim. I didn't have a checked bag to collect since I would only be here a few days, but it was where my buddies would be waiting for me.
YOU ARE READING
Holiday Hat Trick
Roman d'amourUSA Today bestselling author Catherine Gayle presents another novella in the emotional Portland Storm hockey romance series. Holiday Hat Trick is book 8 in the Portland Storm series. All Mitchell Quincey wants on his break from the Portland Storm th...