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Bitty’s heard the phrase “Your cousin Candy ran off” enough times in his life to not be surprised by it anymore. However, when it is directly followed up with “and she left her baby in your living room,” he does start a bit.
“What do you mean she left her baby in my living room?” Bitty asks slightly hysterically, despite the fact that that sentence can really only have one meaning, and that meaning is gurgling happily at him from her baby carrier on his couch.
Lardo sighs and gestures to Therese with the manila folder in her hands. “She ran off and left Therese and these papers. She signed away her parental rights and apparently wants you to adopt her. Said something about you and Trevor being better parents than she could ever hope to be.”
And, well. Bitty couldn’t very well say no, right?
-
“Me and Trevor,” Bitty scoffs to himself, not for the first time. “Trevor took one look at Therese and was out the door. Great parents, my ass.”
Lardo bumps his hip lightly and nods out toward the customers that are waiting to be served. “Maybe cut some pie before angsting about your life?”
Bitty serves up the two slices of pumpkin pie with a smile before turning back to Lardo. “It’s just, he called this morning. Wants me to send him his books or something like that, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I got so angry, I could hardly listen,” Bitty says determinedly. “And he had the gall to ask how Therese is doing. Can you believe that?”
Lardo sighs and wraps an arm around Bitty’s waist, pulling him close. “Trevor’s an ass. But if we’re being fair, you were the only one who didn’t see that he’s an ass before it was too late.”
“I know. And…I love Therese, you know that. She’s the best thing to happen to me in my life, but I know that Candy had this vision of what she wanted Therese’s life to be like, with two parents raising her and shit. I feel like I’m letting her down.”
Lardo squares them up so that she’s facing Bitty. “First of all, Candy doesn’t get any say in how Therese is raised. Therese is your daughter. Candy gave up any right to dictate how Therese grows up when she walked out six months ago. And second, you’re doing a great job with her. You’re the most dedicated dad I’ve ever seen. Plus, you’ve got me to help you out. You’re doing fine, Bits.”
“Thanks, Lards,” Bitty says with a smile. He looks over his shoulder to where Therese is sitting in her high chair behind the counter of the bakery, eating cheerios with gusto. She grins at Bitty and waves her chubby fists at them. “You know, I think she said ‘dada’ last night.”
Lardo claps a hand over her chest and closes her eyes in mock agony. “The things that I miss when I go on dates. I swear, I’m never leaving home again.”
Bitty moves away from her with an eyeroll to grab some plates from one of the nearby tables. “You’re so dramatic. How was your date with Mister Lawyer, by the way?”
He receives a shrug in response, but there’s a blush high on Lardo’s cheeks as she says, “It was fine, I guess.”
“Fine, huh? That why you didn’t make it home until three in the morning?”
“Geez, Mom, will you cool it?” Lardo definitively does not look at Bitty while she continues to wipe down the counter. She glances up and out the big front windows of the shop. “Your favorite customer is about to walk in, if you want to fix your hair.”
Bitty runs a hand through his hair, all the while sighing indignantly. “I do not have a favorite-Jack! Hi, how are you?”
Bitty sees Jack Zimmermann three times a week: Tuesdays and Thursdays at eight after the Falconers’ morning skate, and Sunday afternoons, when Jack will come and eat a small piece of apple pie and sit at the counter of the shop to talk to Bitty. But this is Friday evening, and Bitty would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised.
Jack seems to know this, because he smiles sheepishly, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Hey, Eric.”
“What can I get you? I’m afraid we’re out of apple pie for the day, but I can probably rustle up a turnover or two if you’re willing to wait,” Bitty says, untying and retying his apron for something to do with his hands while he talks.
Jack smiles and shakes his head good naturedly. “You don’t have to go out of your way for me. I just wanted to come in today since I’m not going to be here on Sunday.”
“You’re not?” Bitty tries not to sound disappointed.
Jack shakes his head again. “First game of the season is Monday. In Boston”
“Oh, right! I knew that.” Bitty waves a hand by his head as though waving away the memory. “I swear, I can be so absent-minded.”
“It’s fine, you have a lot on your mind. You can afford to forget something dumb like hockey.” Jack says with a slight smile at Bitty, but his hands are twisting together a bit.
Bitty clenches his fists to keep from covering Jack’s hands with one of his own. “Oh, hockey isn’t dumb. Don’t you forget that I played in college,” he teases. “I’m definitely going to be recording the game, though. So don’t you go texting me the outcome.”
Jack draws an ‘x’ over his chest with one of his fingers. “Cross my heart.”
“Score a goal for us?” And wow, that just slipped out of his mouth without his permission. At least us is safer than the me that he may want to say so desperately.
“Of course.”
He’s staring at Bitty intensely, so much so that Bitty has to look away before he does something stupid like forcefully kiss a professional hockey player. He distracts himself by looking over at Therese, who has seen Jack and is excitedly bouncing in her chair. “Wanna hold her?”
Jack grins. “When do I not?”
Bitty hands her over to Jack, and as usual, the Zimmermann baby magic takes over. She stops squirming and reaches out to grab Jack’s finger, grinning a gummy smile up at him and babbling. “You know, Lardo wants to have a little celebration for her when she turns eight months next Friday. If you’re free…you could come. You know, if you want to. I know you’re very busy and probably don’t have time to spend with us or anything, but Therese loves you and-“
“Bitty,” Jack cuts him off, “I’d love to come. Text me the details, yeah?”
-
Bitty meets Jack on a Saturday morning at approximately the asscrack of dawn about a month after he officially adopts Therese. He knows who he is, of course, was heartbroken when the Falconers were knocked out of the playoffs in the second round.
Any other day, he would be shocked and excited. Today, however, he’s too tired to really care who walks into the shop. All he cares about is the fact that Therese is still fussing and it’s seven in the morning and he still hasn’t had any coffee. “I’ll be right with you, just give me a minute to get this little princess calm.”
And apparently Jack Zimmermann is some sort of Disney prince, because he responds with, “Do you want any help? You look exhausted and I’m pretty good with kids?”
And Bitty is exactly tired enough to hand his daughter (niece? God, this situation is so weird) over to a virtual stranger if it means that he can get his hands on a cup of coffee. “Good luck. She’s been colicky and hardly slept all night.”
Which is how Eric Richard Bittle discovers that Jack was lying. He’s not good with kids. He’s magicwith kids. Almost as soon as Therese is in Jack’s arms, she quiets down and just stares up at the hockey player Bitty has spent many, many nights fantasizing about.
Only, this is better than any fantasy, because Bitty gets to sit down and have coffee. “How do you do that?”
Jack looks up at Bitty like he’s surprised he’s being spoken to. “I don’t know. I’ve always been really good with kids.”
“There’s being good with kids and there’s this,” Bitty waves at Jack and Therese. “And this is magic. I swear, I couldn’t get her to sleep for longer than twenty minutes last night. And Lardo’s sick so she couldn’t take her off my hands this morning, so baking was a nightmare and I’m just tired. And oversharing.”
“I can tell,” Jack says and then winces. “I mean, not that you look bad. You just look…tired. So does she. Is…Lardo…her mother?”
Bitty shakes his head. “No, I’m a single parent. Adopted her after my cousin abandoned her in my apartment a month ago.”
Jack’s mouth drops open. “Wow. That’s crazy.”
Bitty snorts as he pours himself a cup of coffee. “Try living it. I’m Eric, by the way. Eric Bittle. Most people call me Bitty though.”
Jack raises an eyebrow, so Bitty plows on, “I played hockey in college and it was my nickname with the boys. It sort of stuck.”
Jack looks visibly taken aback and shifts Therese in his arms. “You played hockey? I’m-“
“A professional hockey player, I know. I was crushed when y’all got knocked out of the playoffs, but I think you’ll have a great chance coming up next season.” Bitty grins at him when Jack gapes and blushes. “You think I played four years of NCAA hockey and didn’t know about Jack Zimmermann?”
Jack blushes and stares down at Therese for a moment. “I don’t like to assume people know who I am,” he mumbles quietly.
“I’m sure most people don’t, considering how hockey isn’t that big in the U.S.,” Bitty comforts him. “You just happened to walk into the one bakery that’s owned by a hockey nut.”
Jack smiles softly at Bitty, a look that’s completely disparate from the Hockey Face that Bitty’s seen in interviews with the player. “You own this place? It’s nice.”
“You should try a pastry, they’re even nicer.”
“I shouldn’t. My nutritionist would kill me,” Jack says like he’s not entirely committed to his decision.
Bitty puts his hands on his hips. “So you expected to walk into a Bakery and not buy anything baked? What kind of world do you live in, Jack Zimmermann?”
Jack stares down at Therese and shrugs. “Maybe a blueberry muffin? And a cup of coffee.”
Bitty grins and moves to put a muffin on a plate and to pour a cup for Jack. He places them in front of the other man with gusto. “Be prepared for the best muffin of your life, Mister Zimmermann. Baked fresh this morning.”
And this has to be a dream because Jack Zimmermann, captain of the Providence Falconers, is cradling Bitty’s daughter in one arm and eating a muffin and, oh lord, moaning at the taste. Bitty grips the counter and smiles in what he hopes is not a predatory fashion. “Like it?”
“That might be the best blueberry muffin I’ve ever had.”
“Oh hush, it’s just a muffin. The pie is what we’re famous for here.” Bitty attempts to sound casual but does in fact have to turn away to hide the fact that he’s blushing insanely. He attempts to look like he’s not texting Lardo like a madman, but, well.
jck zimmerman here rn!!!!holing t!!!
Bitty wipes down the counter and things that he most certainly cleaned before opening today, if only for something to do with his hands. “So, what brings an NHL star like you in here at such an early hour?”
“I was going for a run and it always smells really good when I go past here. I live just down the block, so,” Jack waves a hand around noncommittally. Bitty waits for him to continue, but he simply settles upon staring down at Therese again. “She’s asleep.”
Bitty starts and bustles around the counter, heart pounding at the sight of Jack Zimmermann holding Therese, who looks more peaceful than Bitty has ever seen her. This has to stop before it gets even more out of hand. “Oh, let me take her. I’ve got a crib in the kitchen, I’ll just go lay her down.”
Jack’s eyes flash with something like reluctance, but he hands Therese over when Bitty reaches for her. The fact that his eyes follow them as Bitty goes to put Therese down is not lost on him. Bitty ignores it as best he can, though, and turns on the monitor that he stashes behind the counter. “There. I’m so glad she finally went down. Dex and Nursey should be here in half an hour, which means I can finally sleep then.”
“Dex and Nursey?”
“Some college kids who work here part time.”
“How much for the muffin and coffee?” Jack looks earnestly at Bitty, who waves him off.
“On the house,” Bitty says with a smile, putting up his hands when Jack looks like he’s about to protest. “No, you got her to sleep when I thought it was impossible. Free muffins for life.”
Jack’s mouth falls open and he shakes his head. “I can’t accept that.”
“You’re allowed to pay for pie and coffee after today. But never muffins.”
-
“Our home opener is next week Wednesday,” Jack blurts out when Bitty is passing by his stool about twenty minutes later. He’s bouncing Therese on his lap and sneaking her bites of pumpkin pie filling when he thinks Bitty isn’t looking. “I get tickets, you know. If you wanted to come, I could probably ask some of the guys about noise-cancelling headphones for Therese. Not that you have to bring her, if you don’t want her at a rink,” he rushes to add. “I know it’s not the most baby friendly environment.”
“Jack,” Bitty sighs out, “you’re starting to sound like me, with that babbling.”
Jack glances down and then up at Bitty through his lashes in a way that makes his tongue feel like it’s stuck to the roof of his mouth. “Sorry.”
“We’d love to come to a game.” Bitty decides to put the poor boy out of his misery and not make him attempt to invite them again. He calls out to Lardo, who’s sitting on a stool in the kitchen on her laptop. “Hey, Lards, want to come to the Falcs game on Wednesday?”
“I think she’s already coming.” Jack smiles like he knows something that Bitty doesn’t, which is horribly infuriating.
“I have a date to the game, actually,” Lardo says, poking her head out of the kitchen. “That lawyer I went out with last night? He’s with the Falconers’ legal team.”
Bitty whips his head around to look at Jack. “How could you possibly have known that? Do you know this guy?”
“I don’t know, how did I know that, T?” Jack looks at Therese and asks her seriously. “It’s almost like maybe I set those two up or something.”
Bitty squawks and clasps a hand over his chest. He shoots Lardo a betrayed look. “You said you were set up by a friend!”
“Jack is a friend.”
“Why did nobody tell me?” Bitty looks between his friends and runs a hand through his hair. “And why have I not met this guy?”
Lardo shrugs and pops her gum obnoxiously. “I like to maintain a little bit of mystery in my love life.”
“And I didn’t think it was really that interesting,” Jack says with a shrug. Therese burbles happily and waves her fists, smacking Jack in the face and surprising him into looking at her in mock betrayal. “Apparently your daughter feels the same way you do. Are you mad with me too, T?”
Bitty smirks and nods approvingly at Therese, who is giggling at the fact that Jack-quite possibly her favorite person after Bitty himself-is talking to her. He reaches out his hand for her to grasp his finger. “Yes, because us Bittles have some common sense. Don’t we, Therese? Don’t we?”
Small fists wave and Therese giggles as Jack tickles her lightly. “Traitor. I thought I was your favorite.”
“Well you haven’t been staying up with her while she teeths, have ya?” BItty puts his hands on his hips and cocks his head at Jack, smiling at Therese. “And now you’ve got something to show Jack, haven’t you?”
Jack’s mouth falls open and his eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, do you mean-“
“Little Therese has her first tooth,” Bitty confirms with a nod. He reaches across the counter to pull down her bottom lip gently and reveal the little white cap poking out of her gums.
Bitty will probably always regret the fact that he was not taping this moment, because NHL star Jack Zimmermann honest-to-god giggles. “Look at that, T! Look at that! Soon you’ll be eating your first celebratory steak with me, huh?”
“Not for a bit.” Bitty laughs and shakes his head. “It’s just one tooth, sweetheart.”
The only saving grace in this moment is that Lardo was not there to hear Bitty’s slip. There’s no doubt in his mind that Jack heard it, though, because he looks up at Bitty with lips pressed tightly together, something unreadable in his eyes.
“Oh, Lord. Sorry, it’s a southern thing. Pet names are sort of a staple, you know?” He laughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.”
Jack shakes his head and rolls his shoulders. A small smile slips across his face. “Don’t worry about it, Bits.”
Bitty nods slowly and drifts off to tend to other customers and hopefully to recover from his misstep. He makes small talk with some of the regulars and pours coffee until he feels like his legs might fall off. Nursey catches him as he’s about to make his second round. “Dude, you look like you’re about to snap, you’re so tense.”
“Pink sweater wants a maple cardamom latte.”
If it was just a slip, Bitty would be fine. But the thing is, it wasn’t, and he knows that. He knows that for months he’s been watching Jack come in and play with Therese, and that it’s done something to Bitty’s head. He hasn’t drawn any lines and it’s messing him up. This just served to prove that fact. But that doesn’t mean that it means anything. Just that he sees how important and helpful Jack is with Therese and it’s messing up Bitty’s parent brain. That’s all.
Suddenly, he’s back in front of Jack and Therese. “Do you need any more coffee?” he asks, thankful that he can look at Therese rather than meeting those icy blue eyes again. “Here, let me take Therese off your hands. You’re probably tired of holding her by now.”
Just like the first time they met, Jack’s grip noticeably tightens on Therese, like he doesn’t want to let her go. Unlike that first time, though, he doesn’t just give her over. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Bitty, are you alright?”
Bitty nods and forces himself to loosen enough to grin at Jack. “I’m fine. Just a little bit shaken. Trevor called earlier.”
It’s not a complete lie. He is slightly shaken up from that call coming in this morning. Hearing from Trevor isn’t fun, will probably never be fun.
Jack, bless his heart, looks genuinely concerned. “Your ex? What did he want?” Jack holds Therese closer to his chest and frowns deeply.
“He wants to come pick up some of the stuff he left behind next week when he’s in town.” Bitty says with a sigh. “So that’ll be fun. Especially since he wants to stop by on Friday.”
“But that’s T’s eight-month birthday,” Jack says, sounding genuinely horrified. “He can’t just come ruin it.”
Moments like these kill him every time they happen, because Jack seems like maybe he could fit into Bitty’s life so nicely, maybe he could just slot himself in and they could be happy together. But Bitty knows that it doesn’t work like that. You can’t just choose to be with someone because they’re hot and good with your baby. Especially when you have a baby. He and Jack are friends. That’s it.
But Jack is almost certainly straight, and definitely not interested in Bitty. And Bitty can’t be interested in Jack.
-
“I cannot believe how late you were up last night,” Nursey grouses as he makes works on the latte art that he takes so much pride in. He throws a glare in Dex’s direction.
“Well excuse me for having a job that requires me to actually meet deadlines,” Dex shoots back through gritted teeth. It’s clear they’re trying to keep it down so Bitty won’t hear, bless their hearts. He swears, he doesn’t know how these boys have been around each other for the last five years without someone ending up dead.
They may be roommates, but Bitty is pretty sure that they’re not exactly friends.
“Boys,” Bitty warns in a low tone, “Make sure the customers don’t hear your bickering.”
“Yes, Bits.” They respond in unison.
Still, this does not stop the fighting that they seem to be so good at. “I had an exam this morning and you know it.” Nursey hisses and sucks his thumb into his mouth when scalding liquid splashes onto his tongue.
“Wash your hands,” is Dex’s only response to that.
“Chill,” Nursey says even as he sticks his hands under the sink and soaps them up.
Dex slides the pastry case door shut perhaps just a bit too forcefully. “Oh my god, shut up. You know that I had a client ask me to change some things last minute. And Lardo would have handled it but it was out of her skill set, which is why she hired me in the first place.”
“I probably failed today! I’ve been exhausted for weeks and you know it! I’m just trying to get through grad school and you can’t be a little bit more considerate?”
“Nursey, I swear. It’s like you don’t even appreciate that it’s my work that paid for your books this semester.”
“You cannot be holding that over my head,” Nursey says with a slightly stricken expression on his face.
Dex softens and slumps his shoulders. He wipes a hand across his face. “Of course I’m not. I just…sometimes it feels like you don’t really appreciate what I’m doing. I know it’s just some freelance coding work, but it pays the bills, you know? And it is important to me.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Bitty watches the exchange with a slightly bewildered feeling in his stomach as Nursey wraps an arm around Dex’s shoulders and whispers something in his ear that makes Dex relax and laugh a little bit.
“Yeah, me too.”
-
Jack stares at the picture of Therese that he has as his lock screen. He’d asked Bitty if it was okay when he set it, and the baker had seemed alright with it, but seeing it always makes Jack feel like he’s…missing something. He unlocks his phone and hovers his thumb over Bitty’s contact information. It’s not too late, they had an early game and Bitty’s probably just getting back home to watch the recording he took of it.
Jack wonders if it would be weird to call him and talk about it. He shakes his head and instead types out a message,
hope the game didn’t disappoint :-)
“Zimmboni, you are boring.” Heavily accented English comes from behind Jack and he winces internally, putting his phone face down on the bartop.
“Hey, Tater.”
Alexei presses on, falling onto the barstool next to Jack. He gestures to the phone. “You are staring at picture of baby all night. You no have fun. We won, Zimmboni! Drink with me!” Alexei raises his glass of what is surely Russian vodka, Zimmboni, no other kind exists and some of it sloshes out, nearly missing Jack.
Jack rubs the back of his neck and shakes his head. “Sorry, you know I don’t like to drink a lot.”
“Yes, but tonight party! We win first game! We beat Bruins!” Alexei takes a swig from his drink before poking Jack in the chest. “And you, you have four-point night. Score game winning goal! Is good!”
Jack shakes his head but laughs in spite of himself. “Alright, I’ll have one drink.”
Alexei waves over the bartender and orders an Alexander Keith’s for Jack. “I get Canadian beer for my best Canadian friend.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
Alexei watches excitedly as Jack downs some of his beer, swaying on his stool close to Jack. “How is girlfriend?”
Jack’s face heats up and he shakes his head resolutely. “I’ve told you, Tater, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Just at that moment, his phone buzzes and Jack picks it up reflexively. It’s a text from Bitty.
So far, so good! Though maybe not enough for Therese, since she just fell asleep! :P
Attached is a picture of Therese napping in the Zimmermann onesie that Jack bought for her. He grins and saves the picture to his phone.
Tater’s eyebrows knit together. “You smile at phone, texting often. Shows on face. You must be in love.”
“You smile at your phone,” Jack points out with a raised eyebrow.
Alexei smiles sneakily and nods. “Yes, I do. Is how I know you are in love.”
“I’m just texting a friend back home,” Jack gives up on that line of questioning and says with a shrug while he types out his response.
repping the right colors tho. I can forgive the sleeping
“And baby?”
“My friend’s kid. I help him watch her sometimes.” Jack shows Alexei the picture he took last week of Bitty holding Therese in the air and sticking his tongue out at her.
Tater nods thoughtfully, finishing his drink. “Is cute baby. Remind me of my sister’s daughter when she was little.”
Jack smiles at the picture and the way he can almost hear Therese’s giggling. “Yeah, she’s a sweetheart.”
“This explain everything. You love baby, no girlfriend. When I’m get to meet her?” Alexei looks positively thrilled by the idea of getting to meet Therese. It makes sense, Jack thinks. He remembers how excited Alexei was when his own niece was born shortly after Jack started with the Falconers.
Jack bites his lip. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to talk to Bit-Eric, her dad about it.”
Alexei stops and puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Is Eric? The baker who make mini pies?”
“Yeah,” Jack laughs. When Bitty had sent him to practice with boxes of mini pies, he’d been a hit with the guys (if not the nutritionists) and hardly anyone has stopped talking about them, though Jack may have kept their source a secret, besides saying ‘my friend, Eric.’ “He’s her dad.”
“Tell Eric I am very responsible. And my niece smarter than Hjalmarsson baby.”
-
Shitty Knight is enjoying being the human canvas for Lardo and contemplating the idea of love at first sight when he gets a call from Jack Zimmermann. “Sup, Zimmboni.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Sup, Zimmeroni and Cheese. Ma-zim-ba. Jack-o-lantern.” Shitty rattles off nicknames and rolls his eyes at Lardo, who raises an eyebrow and keeps painting, streaking midnight blue across his chest, circling his right nipple. “What’s your ish?”
Jack sighs and Shitty can practically hear him run his hand through his hair. “First of all, Ma-zim-ba is weak and you can do better. And second, I don’t have an ‘ish.’”
“Bro I can hear the stress in your voice.”
Lardo’s shoulders shake silently, her long hair flopping forward until it’s almost brushing Shitty’s chest. She slings a leg over so that she’s straddling Shitty’s lap and inspecting him closely. Shitty tangles his fingers in her hair loosely and grins when she frowns at him.
“I just…need to ask you something.”
“You know I’m always here for your questions, babe.”
Another trademark Zimmermann sigh. “You’re dating Lardo, Shits.”
“Yup, and she’s here.” Shitty holds the phone out to Lardo.
She smiles and rolls her eyes. “Hey, Zimms.”
Shitty takes the phone back. “Anyways, can we talk about your problems so that I can hang up on you? Not that I’m not loving this conversation, I just. Well, Lardo’s here.”
Despite his urging for Jack to get to the point, Shitty waits patiently for Jack to collect himself enough to actually voice what he’s feeling. He tilts his head up to try to see what it is that Lardo’s painting on his chest, but is met with a hand to the middle of his forehead pushing him back. Man, this girl is amazing.
“Do you think I should get Bitty tickets to sit in the family section on Wednesday?”
Shitty’s eyebrows shoot up and he would sit up except that he’s terrified of what Lardo would do if he ruins her art. “You mean the WAG section? I mean, I guess. He’s kinda your WAG, so it would make sense. Or I guess he would be your HAB, huh? Husbands and Boyfriends, you know?” He looks to Lardo for support on this one and she nods her head solemnly.
“My HAB? Shitty, no-I-what are you talking about? He’s not my-I just want him to have somewhere to sit with his baby that won’t be totally insane.” Jack protests, sounding like he’s choking on his tongue a little bit. Shitty does not try to hide his grin.
“And you’re in love with him.”
Jack makes a cutoff noise. “Shitty, I’m not in love with him.”
“But consider this: you are,” Shitty says plainly, “I’ve known you for five years, Jacky my boy. You used to never do anything that even remotely suggested you might break your crazy diet plan. You meet this guy and suddenly you’re going to a bakery three times a week for six months. And you’re, like, obsessed with his baby.”
“I like babies, you know this,” Jack says defensively.
Shitty sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically. “I know this, Jackabelle. Babies are pretty much the only time you can manage anything resembling typical human interaction off the ice, but she’s your lockscreen. Can you maybe admit that you like her a little bit more than other babies?”
A long pause from Jack’s end. “I guess.”
“And that maybe you like her dad a little bit more than you like other babies’ dads?”
“He’s my friend.”
“I literally hate you so much.” And with that, Shitty hangs up on his dearest friend. Because, as dear as Jack may be to his heart, there are some things that Shitty just can’t deal with sometimes. And Jack not being in touch with his emotional truth enough to face his feelings for an adorable baker is not something he can deal with tonight. Not when he’s got a beautiful girl straddling his hips and painting on him.
Speaking of which, Lardo looks up and makes eye contact with Shitty with a small frown on her face. “You know this isn’t a sexual thing, right?” She asks, gesturing at his chest.
Shitty nods. “Yeah, bro. I’m cool with you just painting on me until the cows come home.”
Lardo smiles and nods, her hair flopping into her face. She sighs and brushes it out of her face. “Cool, I’m just not really feeling it tonight and didn’t want to get your hopes up or anything.”
“No problem, Lards.” Shitty grins and leans back again. “You know, you’d look really cool with short hair.”
Lardo swipes a streak of paint across his chest quickly and runs her hand through her hair. “I know, right? I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while now.”
“I’ve got some scissors. Wanna do it tonight?”
A grin creeps across Lardo’s face in such a way that brings Shitty back to his previous reminiscing on the topic of Love At First Sight. It’s not something he’s ever believed in, but with Lardo he feels like he might be getting pretty damn close.
Considering how it was Jack who set them up, he might owe the kid about four lifetimes of listening to his confusion over bakers.
-
congrats on a great game! you played really well!
you think so?
absolutely!
therese woke up for a bit right before you scored your goal
im glad she saw
im glad u saw too
:) of course! u know what a hockey nut I am
its late what are you doing up
I could ask you the same thing, mr zimmermann
well I don’t have to wake up early and bake tomorrow
unlike some of us
fine, I can take a hint
good night, jack
ill see you when u get back? the bakery misses u
go to sleep, bittle
-
The first month with Therese feels like waiting.
Waiting for Candy to come back.
Waiting for the adoption papers to be processed.
Waiting for someone to tell Bitty that he can’t have his baby.
Not waiting for Trevor to change his mind, since he’s fairly certain that’s not going to happen.
As a result, it stunts his ability to bond with the beautiful baby girl that he wants nothing more than to love completely with all of himself. But it’s impossible to love someone completely when you’re waiting for them to be taken away.
So the first month is hard. Therese cries endlessly, and Bitty has to wonder if it’s separation anxiety from her mother. Bitty feels like he’s constantly looking toward the door for Candy or her parents to barge in and take the little girl from him.
He loves her; but he can’t let himself get too close to her.
Then, the day that the approval for Therese’s adoption goes through, Lardo shows up on Bitty’s doorstep with her bags and a grim look on her face.
“What’s happening?” Bitty stares at his friend with undisguised confusion, Therese clutched to his chest. “Why do you have literally all of your shit?”
Lardo shakes her head and pushes past him into the apartment. “I’m moving in.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am,” Lardo says with a sigh. She goes back out into the hallway to haul her bags into the apartment. “You need me here, Bits.”
“I’m fine,” Bitty says defensively. He steps neatly out of the way and does not offer to help Lardo with her bags, even though it goes against everything he was raised to be. “I’ve got this handled.”
Lardo sighs and leans against her bag, one hand on her hip. “Bitty, Candy’s not coming back. She doesn’t even want to see Therese again.”
Bitty frowns. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I talked to her last night,” Lardo admits with a sigh. She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose before continuing, “Apparently it was her parents’ idea to leave the baby with you. That’s why she could afford a lawyer to get the papers in order. That’s why nobody’s come looking to take Therese away.”
Bitty’s mouth falls open and he tightens his arms around Therese. “Are you sure?”
Lardo nods, but looks like she doesn’t want to. They both know how Bitty’s aunt and uncle feel about him. “They said that they wanted her back home, that she shouldn’t keep her mistake and that you’re already a lost cause, so ‘leaving it with you isn’t such a bad idea.’” Lardo is clearly quoting Bitty’s relatives on that one. “So yeah. I’m moving in, because it’s easier for me to help you raise her if I live here.”
And for all the stubbornness that runs through the Bittle men, and all that Bitty proclaims that he does not want help, Lardo does change his life for the better. He develops a schedule for himself, rather than the frantic running around that he had been doing for the last three weeks.
He wakes up at four in the morning, eats breakfast, checks on Therese, and heads over to the bakery. With Lardo there to watch Therese in the mornings, he no longer has to bring the baby along with him in the morning and risk waking her. Lardo even offers to get up to feed Therese in the middle of the night most nights.
He still has to keep Therese with him at the bakery most days since Lardo’s graphic design business is taking off more each day, but that part is rarely a problem, as Therese is a fairly quiet and well-behaved child.
Vegan Emilie (not Emilie With The Cats) comes in first most mornings, at eight thirty, and holds Therese while Bitty drinks a cup of coffee and listens to her talk about her quilting store. He’s in a quiet part of town without many early risers, though he does get the usual rush of businessmen around lunchtime. His life is quiet, uneventful, and he rarely has anything to think about other than his stock of sugar for pies and formula for Therese.
Then Jack Zimmermann happens.
Six months later, Bitty is standing at the counter of his bakery idly running a rag over nothing in particular and listening to Jack Zimmermann detail the most exciting parts of his most recent win. Formula is probably the furthest thing from his mind, if he’s being completely honest.
“Where’s Therese?” Jack asks suddenly, as if it has taken him a full hour and a half to notice the fact that the baby is not here.
Bitty blinks, panics for a moment, and then remembers. “Lardo takes her to some baby art class thing on Tuesdays. I thought you knew?”
Jack shakes his head. “No, had no idea. That’s cool, though.”
“Yeah, plus it lets me get to that farmers’ market down the street without having to wheel a baby around. Not that I don’t love spending time with my daughter!” he rushes to add with a laugh. “It can just get tiring trying to handle two baskets of apples and a stroller.”
Jack nods seriously and shovels the last bite of apple pie into his mouth. “That makes sense.”
And, really. A grown man talking with his mouth full should not make Bitty smile.
He glances up at the clock and reaches back to untie his apron. “I should actually probably get going. I’ll see you around, yeah?”
Jack’s lips curve downward and he shakes his head. “I’ll come with you, help you carry stuff. If that’s alright?”
Jack looks so eager that Bitty can’t help but accept it, even if he doesn’t quite understand what his life has become. But still, Jack is halfway out of his seat and reaching for his wallet. “Sure, just beware, it will be no easy task.”
“I’m a professional athlete, Bittle.”
Poor boy has no idea what he’s in for.
-
The realization that Bitty is serious about farmers’ markets hits Jack at the first stall, and Jack sees the change from stressed single dad Bitty into Farmers’ Market Bitty.
Bitty’s’s bickering with the woman about the virtues of peaches grown up north, and the innovative farming techniques that are required to make it happen, and Jack’s mouth falls open a little bit because Bitty has made it clear that he knows exactly what he’s talking about.
“You-uh-you’re really into this stuff, eh?” Jack says slowly, the basket in his arms slowly becoming heavier as Bitty loads lemons into it.
Bitty puts his hands on his hips and lifts a graceful eyebrow. “Jack Zimmermann, I warned you that this wouldn’t be some cutesy little trip. I own a bakery. Farmers’ market trips are serious business.”
It’s honestly a little bit terrifying, so Jack readjusts his grip on the wicker basket and shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. You just…know a lot about this. It’s impressive.”
Bitty smiles faintly and shrugs. He waves a hand in the air near his head as though shooing away a fly. “Oh, well. You learn as you go, I guess. It’s a community, so you talk to people and find out what you should be looking for. You should have seen me when I was just starting out. Got so swindled by vendors you wouldn’t believe it.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, luckily I made friends with Darlene, my apple lady, and she found out about how Phillip-my old butter guy-was treating me, and she gave everyone a stern talking to. And then she introduced me to Sally.”
“Sally?”
“My new butter supplier. She’s Darlene’s wife, actually. They have a little farm and it’s just the cutest thing. Of course, I don’t know how they manage to supply to anyone else with the amount that I demand from them.” Bitty laughs to himself and shakes his head.
Jack smiles slightly at him and trails behind him as Bitty walks amongst the vendors. This is probably one of the last weekends that they’ll hold the market outdoors, they move it indoors to a warehouse during the winter, he knows. “Are Sally and Darlene here?”
Bitty nods and smiles slightly. “Yeah, they’re on the other side, though, so we’ll probably stop by there last. I’ve got some vendors that I need to talk to about delivery schedule changes.”
“Delivery?” Jack asks, bewildered. He thought they were shopping for the store now, why would Bitty need delivery?
Bitty looks at Jack like he knows exactly what he was thinking. “Jack, you adorable hockey player. This is just my weekly grocery trip. I need far more than this for the store. I come here to shop for personal stuff and to arrange orders with vendors. You really thought that was enough peaches for the store?”
Jack glances down at the basket and the dozen or so peaches in it. “I guess not.” He can feel his cheeks growing hot.
Bitty smiles softly and puts his hand on Jack’s upper arm. “Don’t be embarrassed. Most people don’t realize exactly what goes into running a semi-successful bakery. Now come on, I need to talk to this new honey vendor. From what I’ve heard, he has the most divine lavender honey.”
Jack follows Eric into the fray and watches as Bitty hems and haws over honey flavors and the way his eyes slip closed as he tastes different varieties and holds them in his mouth. He watches as the vendor looks at Bitty almost nervously, the way so many vendors seem to wait for Bitty’s approval on their wares. Jack wonders if maybe Eric Bittle has made a name for himself at this particular farmers’ market. The evidence seems to suggest that he has.
“This is excellent,” Bitty decides finally. He flashes a charming smile at the vendor, who seems to droop with relief. “Do you have a card that I can take? I think I might want to order some of this for my shop.”
“You’re the owner of ‘Pied and Joy’, right?” The man says with a smile. “I’ve heard about your honey pear tarts.”
Bitty’s cheeks flush slightly pink and he laughs, high and musical. “Yes, that’s me. Y’all should stop by sometime and try some out. I think they’ll be even better if I can get my hands on some of this lavender honey.”
The beekeeper is attractive, young with red hair and green eyes. Jack feels a small twinge of something in his gut as the beekeeper picks up a small bottle of honey and holds it out to Bitty. “Here, take this. On the house.”
“Oh, I can’t do that.”
“Try it out in your recipe and see if you like it. Then we’ll talk business. I’m Jonny, by the way.”
Bitty smiles and takes it, nodding all the while. “Aren’t you just too sweet? Make sure you stop by some time this week. I’m counting on seeing you again.”
“Will do.” Jonny is blushing as he watches Bitty walk away and Jack grips the basket more tightly to keep from doing something stupid like putting his arm around Bitty.
He doesn’t know why this is bothering him so much. Of course Bitty gets flirted with. He’s young and cute and…single. He probably goes out on dates all the time. This should not bother Jack or even surprise him.
“He was flirting with you,” Jack says because he’s an idiot and is weirdly obsessed with this for no reason.
Bitty wrinkles his nose but smiles. “You think? Oh gosh.”
“That can’t be surprising.”
“I guess I don’t think of myself as someone who gets flirted with.” Bitty shrugs and adjusts his own basket where he’s holding it on his hip. “I’m just a baker and a single dad. Not exactly what you’d consider a catch.”
Jack stops in his tracks and gapes at Bitty. “BIttle, you’re…you cook and you’re smart and you play hockey and-“ he cuts himself off and bites his lip for a moment before continuing, “you’re absolutely a catch.”
Bitty flushes bright red and stares down at his shoes. “Yeah, well.” He shrugs.
Jack feels bad for evidently making Bitty uncomfortable. It hadn’t been his intention, even if he’s not entirely sure what his intention was, he knows it wasn’t that. “Come on, let’s go look at some peaches.”
Bitty laughs and looks over to where Jack is pointing. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “Jack Zimmermann, those are nectarines.”
Jack laughs and is grateful for the lifted tension, though something seems to have shifted in the atmosphere. Bitty keeps looking at Jack out of the corner of his eye and smiling at him in a way that seems…softer. It makes Jack’s stomach twist in an almost pleasant way.
Bitty sees a booth and lights up immediately. “Oh, the new crib pads are in! Jess, you said you’d call me!” He rushes over to the booth that seems to be overflowing with blankets and pillows and embraces the girl running it tightly. “Oh these are beautiful! How much?”
“25 each. But I thought you were still co-sleeping Therese?” The girl, Jess apparently, asks with furrowed eyebrows.
Bitty shrugs and bites his lip. “Well, I am. But I’m going to have to transition her soon, you know? I definitely want her to be sleeping independently by the time she’s 10 months, and I was thinking about dating again so…” Bitty trails off with a blush.
Jess nods enthusiastically. “That sounds smart. My sister co-slept her son until he was almost two and it was honestly so hard to transition him. I say that by the time they’re walking they should definitely be comfortable sleeping on their own.”
“That’s what I say! Honestly, I’m totally pro co-sleeping obviously, but if you wait too long, it’s only going to be harder. Honestly I’m more worried for me than I am for her.”
Jess glances up at Jack and turns back to Bitty. “You need to find someone to sleep in your bed, then. Someone who’s not a baby.” She winks at Bitty and he flushes.
“Oh, hush.” Bitty reaches into the messenger bag hanging by his hip and pulls out a small Tupperware. “I brought you banana nut. I added some caramel to them because you can’t always be a health nut.”
The container is taken enthusiastically and Jess opens it immediately and takes a bite from one of the muffins. “These are amazing, Eric.”
“Did you know that he hasn’t let me pay for a single muffin in six months?” Jack butts in and asks with a grin.
“Oh goodness, that’s definitely Eric. I’ve known this boy for almost three years and all he seems to do is bribe people with baked goods,” Jess jokes good naturedly.
Bitty gasps and clasps a hand over his heart. “I do not bribe, I reward.”
“Same difference,” Jess chirps. She turns back to Jack. “What did you do to earn lifetime free muffins? I know Eric here is plying me for discounts.”
Jack shrugs as much as he can while carrying the large basket in his arms. “I am apparently ‘magic’ with Therese.”
A flash of…something crosses Jess’s face and she grins at Bitty. “Oh, so this is Jack!”
Bitty looks just about ready to murder Jess. “Yes, this is Jack. Jack Zimmermann, Jess Farmer. Jess Farmer, Jack Zimmermann.”
Jess grins and nods at the basket in Jack’s arms. “I would shake your hand but…”
Jack nods. “Yeah, this one’s making being polite difficult.”
“My brother’s a huge Falcs fan.”
“You’re not?”
Jess looks at Bitty, who has pinched his nose, and then back at Jack. “Penguins, baby.”
“Crosby, eh?”
Jess fans herself with her right hand. “You know him? You should definitely hook a girl up.”
“You are a married woman,” Bitty says flatly, but with amusement clear in his eyes.
Jess winks at Jack. “Crosby’s on my list.”
“List?” Jack knows he probably shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help it. “What list?”
True to form, Bitty groans but Jess’ smile only grows. “The list of celebrities that I’m allowed to sleep with without my husband getting upset.”
The pained look on Bitty’s face is enough to make Jack erase any thoughts of regretting asking. “Fascinating.”
Bitty grabs a crib pad and thrusts it at Jack. “I’ll take this one, thanks. You two are the worst.” He shoves a fistful of bills at Jess and steers Jack away from her. The sounds of her laughter echo behind them. “She’s nice,” Jack says cheerfully.
“She’s a menace,” Bitty grumbles.
“Oh absolutely,” Jack says sarcastically. “She seems horrible.”
Bitty glares at him and rolls his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, well. She was one of the first friends I made in Providence that wasn’t a friend from Samwell who just happened to be coming up here. She really helped me to not give up on the bakery.”
“Oh?” Jack is genuinely surprised to hear that Bitty would even think about giving up on Pied and Joy. He knows that Bitty has poured two and a half years of his life into that shop and that it’s essentially his baby at this point.
Well. His other baby.
Bitty nods, though. “Yeah. I mean, running a bakery isn’t easy, and if I hadn’t had the help of Holster and Lardo and Jess, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“How did you get the bakery in the first place?” Jack asks, then rushes to continue, “I mean, starting a business is expensive and you did it right out of college…how did you afford it?”
Bitty shrugs and adjusts his grip on his basket. “Well, it turns out that my grandma had been saving up money since I was born so that I could ‘follow my dreams’ and in my Junior year when I mentioned that that’s what I wanted to do, she said that she could help me. I got a part-time job my senior year and my parents helped out because I was on full scholarship all throughout college, so they still had my college fund. I got a lot of help. It just worked out, I guess. When we found the spot where it is now, it just all clicked.”
“That’s really awesome.”
“That’s not to say that it wasn’t tight for a while, of course,” Bitty laughs awkwardly. “But it worked. I was really lucky to have the people I did in my corner.”
“Sounds like it.”
They wander the market for another ten minutes before ending up in front of a booth occupied by two women in their fifties, both wearing identical grins. “Eric!” Is a twin greeting from both of them.
Bitty smiles and waves to them, hugging them when they come out from behind their table to hug him in turn. Bitty turns back to Jack and gestures to them. “Meet Darlene and Sally.”
Darlene raises an eyebrow, a playful grin playing at the edge of her mouth. “And who is your young man, Eric?”
Bitty opens his mouth as though to protest but Jack interrupts him. “I’m Jack. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Ah, we’ve heard a lot about you. You’re a regular at Eric’s place, aren’t you?” Sally asks and tucks her dark curls behind her ear. “I always mean to go over there more but this one has to stop me because lord knows I could eat about five of Eric’s lemon meringue pies in one sitting.”
Bitty laughs and shakes his head. “Oh you know that Darlene orders a dozen caramel banana nut muffins every week.”
Darlene shrugs and takes her wife’s hand. “What can I say? I’m weak for them.”
“And yet you deprive me of my pie.”
“I’ll buy you one next week. What you really need to do is get Eric to teach you how to make it, since we live outside the city and the drive is a pain,” Darlene suggests with a raised eyebrow in Bitty’s direction.
Bitty claps a hand over his heart. “But then y’all wouldn’t need me anymore! How else am I supposed to guarantee seeing y’all?”
“Southern charm, of course,” Sally responds easily, “but don’t worry, Eric dear, I’m hopeless in the kitchen. You wouldn’t be able to teach me anything.”
“It’s true,” Darlene says grimly. “She could burn water.”
Bitty laughs unabashedly. Jack finds himself unable to look away.
Darlene becomes serious once more, of course. “Now, Eric. Where is Peaches? I made her some doggy treats.” She reaches over into the booth to pull out a tupperware container full of home-baked dog biscuits.
Bitty shifts his basket to his hip and pulls out a paper bag from his messenger bag. “And I made you some muffins. Peaches’s at home right now, though. I didn’t have time to run and grab her.”
“Well take these to her and give her some kisses from us.” Darlene swaps the container for the paper bag. Bitty places it carefully in his bag.
“Thanks so much. I’m sure she’ll love them,” Bitty says genuinely.
“Well I know she’s a picky eater, and you said she likes apple.”
Bitty hugs her with his one free arm. “You are an angel.”
“You have a dog?” Jack blurts out, drawing the attention of the two women and Bitty, who has a broad smile on his face and Darlene’s arm around his shoulders.
He nods. “Yes, I have a dog. Have I never mentioned Peaches before?”
Jack shakes his head. “No.”
“Oh, well, her name’s Peaches and she’s an absolute sweetheart. Why don’t you come over after we’re done here and you can meet her?” Bitty asks, a note of uncertainty coloring his voice.
Jack nods and smiles nervously. “I’d like that.”
-
Jack knows what he was expecting in a dog belonging to Eric Bittle. He most certainly was not expecting Peaches.
To say that he is surprised when Bitty opens the door to his apartment and a dog that must be part bear comes bounding up and skids to a stop in front of him would be an understatement.
“Peaches, give Jack a hug!” Bitty says cheerily as he sidesteps the dog to enter the apartment and put down his basket of farmers’ market goods.
Suddenly, there are large paws on Jack’s shoulders and a wet nose prodding at his face. “What kind of dog is she?” Jack manages to get out, angling his face so that he does not end up with a mouthful of dog tongue.
“Peaches, down,” Bitty commands with a grin, “come here, sit, good girl,” he continues with ease, the dog complying eagerly. “She’s a Bernese-Newfoundland mix. A friend from college fostered puppies and I met Peaches and just fell in love.”
“And you trained her?”
“Yes.”
“She’s a good dog.”
Bitty grins and scratches between Peaches’ ears. “She really is. And she absolutely loves Therese.”
Jack cocks his head to the side. “Really?”
Bitty crouches down so that he’s eye level with Peaches and scratches at her neck. “Yeah, when Candy first brought her home from the hospital, we were worried about how she might react, but Peaches just laid down next to her. She’s been totally devoted to Therese ever since. We call her her guardian angel.”
“Good. I had a dog when I was younger who was sorta like that, meant a lot to me,” Jack says for no reason at all. He smiles down at where Bitty is still scratching Peaches and cooing at her.
“Do you have a dog now?”
“No, but I’ve been thinking about going to the greyhound rescue and adopting one.” Jack shoves his hands in his pockets. “My apartment’s kind of big and empty, so.”
Bitty seems to suddenly notice that Jack’s arms are still full, and he jumps up to grab the basket from him and put it in the kitchen. “Oh, dear. Sorry about this place. I know it’s small, but it’s not a bad place to live, considering our financial situation. It’s safe and clean, at least.”
Jack looks around the apartment. It’s small-much smaller than his own three-bedroom condo-but not uncomfortably so. Bitty’s decorated it in a way that makes it seem cozy, and the building is safe and clean. “I like it.”
Bitty shrugs and bites his lip. “Yeah, well. It was originally Trevor’s place, his starting salary at the firm was the only reason I ended up in a two-bedroom right out of college and not some shitty studio apartment. He signed it over to me when he left.”
Jack tenses slightly at the mention of Bitty’s ex and flexes his fingers. “That was…nice of him.”
Bitty snorts. “Yeah, well. He decided to take that job in Boston and would’ve looked like a dick if he had forced a baby and single father out on the street.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s big enough for the four of us, though.” Bitty looks around. It’s clear that he’s nervous and uncomfortable with having Jack in his tiny apartment.
“It’s nice. You’ve done a lot with it.”
“It feels like it’s gotten smaller since I adopted Therese and Lardo moved in, but I like it.”
“It’s great.”
“But I think it’s a nice place and it’s in a good neighborhood. Plus some friends from college live just across the hall. And it’s not permanent-”
“Bitty,” Jack says firmly, making the smaller man actually look him in the eye, “it’s a nice apartment. I’m glad Therese has somewhere good to grow up.”
There are moments in Jack’s life where he wishes he was more talkative, that he had something to say, where he feels unspeakably awkward looking at someone and saying nothing. Standing here with Bitty, looking around while Bitty messes with something in the small kitchen, he feels comfortable.
“Do you want some sweet tea? I would offer you something baked, but Betsey’s been on the fritz lately.” Bitty gestures toward the oven and wrinkles his nose.
Jack smiles and scratches at Peaches’ head. “You named your oven?”
“Things I care about get names,” Bitty states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And I love my oven, even if Dex says she’s reached the end of her life.”
“Can you not afford a new one? Is the bakery struggling?”
Jack is a man of routine. The bakery being closed would mess with his routine. Which is why he’s concerned.
Obviously.
Bitty bites his lip and frowns. “No, we’re actually doing well. But I want to get out of this apartment within the year, and I’m looking into a floor mixer for the shop, so I’m saving every little bit I can.”
“Oh.”
“Well, I know it probably seems weird to you. I mean, if you wanted to move tomorrow you could,” Bitty says with a slight frown on his face, “but it makes sense for the rest of us.”
Jack’s eyebrows knit together and he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t think that. I just think it stinks that you’re a baker and you can’t bake in your own home.”
“Yeah.”
The moment of relaxed comfortability is gone. Luckily, any awkwardness is saved by two men literally bursting through the door.
“Bits, did I just see-“
“Jack Zimmermann’s ass in real life, and-“
“By the way, Peaches dropped the biggest deuce earlier.”
“It was still warm when I tried to pick it up, it was gross.”
Bitty, apparently, doesn’t think this is weird. He actually bursts into a grin and reaches out to hug the taller of the two. “Ransom, Holster! How are y’all doin’? Sorry I haven’t been able to catch up with y’all for a while, I’ve just been so busy.”
“It’s fine. We saw you coming in earlier, though, so we thought we’d come say hi and make sure you didn’t actually kidnap Jack Fucking Zimmermann,” the one who Jack thinks is called Ransom says more to Jack than to Bitty.
“Uh, hi.” Jack sticks his hand out, knowing that if any of his teammates saw him, he would be chirped within an inch of his life. “I’m Jack.”
Holster, who is almost as tall as Tater, snorts and slaps him on the shoulder. “Bro, we know. And as a Bruins fan, I gotta say fuck you.”
“But as a hockey fan in general, I gotta say I fuckin’ love you,” Ransom adds, with a twin slap on the shoulder. “Your wrister to complete the hatty in that game against Montreal? Art.”
“And against a team that is not only your dad’s old team, but your hometown? I honestly kinda want to propose.”
Bitty has his hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised. Jack thinks idly that he needs to learn to do that. “Are you boys done harassin’ Mister Zimmermann?”
“Yes, Bitty,” they say in unison, looking at least a little humbled by his sharp tone.
Bitty nods once and turns to the kitchen. “Good. Now one of y’all help me get your cookies from that cabinet because I do not want to climb up on the counter right now.”
Holster reaches over Bitty’s head, crowding him by the counter. “Itty Bitty. How do you even make it through life without a step stool?”
Bitty shoves him away and sticks his tongue out. “Oh, hush. Just because you’re a literal giant-“
“I’m pretty sure Tater’s taller than him,” Jack supplies for absolutely no reason. Upon receiving three confused stares, Jack blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, Alexei Mashkov? He’s, like, 6’5”.”
“Bitchin’,” Holster says around a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie.
Ransom steals a cookie and nods enthusiastically. “Mashkov is so sick, man. Seriously, I would totally suck his dick.”
“Excuse me?” Holster claps a hand over his heart and looks to Ransom, completely appalled.
“Dude, we’ve talked about this. Mashkov is allowed if I ever get the chance.”
Jack waves a hand between the two of them. “Oh, are you two together?”
Bitty groans like this question gets asked all the time and Holster slings his arm over Ransom’s shoulders. “We’re an enigma, dude.”
“They’re practically married, but have decided that ‘labels are for LAX douches.’” Bitty says with an eyeroll. “But really, the lack of labels is for extra douches, and they know it.”
“Don’t harsh our vibe, Bits.”
-
Bitty takes pride in the fact that during the day, at the bakery, he manages to look clean and put together. He gets comments on how fashionable and cute he looks. He’s very proud of this.
If only they could see him at night when he turns into your typical vomit covered parent.
“Lardo, please! Can you bring me a towel?” He calls back to his roommate, who he’s only 75% sure is actually home at the moment, while he balances Therese on his hip and stirs the pot in front of him. Therese is, of course, screaming bloody murder for no reason as he attempts to soothe her and make dinner at the same time.
His life is chaos.
“Here, brah.” A man with long hair and a mustache comes from Lardo’s room and tosses him a towel.
Bitty catches it, only lets it hit Therese in the face a little bit, and gapes at him. “Who are you?”
The man grins and moves forward to take Therese from Bitty’s arms. She’s still screaming, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m Shitty. I’m whatever with Lardo.”
“You’re whatever with Lardo? What does that even mean?” Bitty asks. Honestly, he’s at the point where he doesn’t care who this guy is, he’s making Bitty’s life a million times easier. Suddenly, he realizes who this must be. “Oh! You’re Jack’s friend!”
Shitty nods as much as he can while Therese is tugging at his hair. Still crying. “That I am. Now, what does this little princess need?”
“Shits, you don’t have to deal with the baby, you know that.” Lardo emerges from her room finally and takes Therese from him, though she’s still holding onto Shitty’s hair. “Ew, she’s all wet.”
Bitty sighs and rolls his eyes. “I know. Because I fed her and then when I tried to burp her afterwards, all she did was throw up all over me. Can you please change her clothes? Also, do you want me to make you some dinner? Dex, Nursey, Ransom, and Holster are coming over to watch the Bruins game later.”
“What is it?”
“Fettuccine Alfredo.”
“Yeah. Shits, do you want some?” Lardo asks over her shoulder as she starts walking down the hall to Bitty’s room.
Shitty takes a seat at the small kitchen table and nods. “Yeah, I could eat. Do you need any help, Bits?”
Bitty strips off his shirt and tosses it in his direction. “Could you throw that in the laundry basket in my room and grab me a new one from my dresser? Lardo knows where.”
“Is this covered in baby vomit?” Shitty says with a note of disgust in his voice, but holding the shirt like it’s not actually a problem.
Bitty levels him with a glare. “Everything I own is covered in baby vomit.”
“That’s disgusting.” Shitty wrinkles his nose and follows in Lardo’s direction to grab him a new shirt as directed. “Seriously, brah. I admire you.”
Bitty scoffs and turns back to his pot of rapidly thickening white sauce. Shit, he looked away for just a beat too long. He haphazardly pours in a dash of cream and prays for the best. “Come on, please be good. I know these people can’t tell, but please be good.”
“Bro, talking to your pasta is weird,” Lardo remarks as she reenters the kitchen, this time with a Therese who is no longer crying.
“I’m talking to my sauce,” Bitty shoots back, “And look who is so much happier now that she’s in dry clothes!”
“Daddy!”
Bitty freezes. Lardo freezes. Shitty freezes where he is with a t shirt in his hands.
It is, of course, Lardo who speaks first. “Yeah! That’s your daddy! You want your daddy?”
“Daddy!” Therese repeats excitedly. Apparently all the adults smiling at her is getting her excited. “Daddy daddy daddy!”
Bitty rushes forward, sauce forgotten, and scoops Therese out of Lardo’s arms. He presses kisses to her cheeks and forehead, making her giggle. “Yeah, that’s me! Oh my little girl, you’re so smart!”
Lardo steps around him and goes to stir his sauce. “That’s adorable, Bits.”
“Oh shit I can’t believe I just heard your kid’s first words. That was adorable as fuck,” Shitty says with a grin.
Bitty whirls on him with a glare. “Don’t curse in front of my baby! Now that she can talk, she’s so impressionable.”
“Then what are you guys supposed to call me?” Shitty frowns and furrows his eyebrows.
Lardo leans against the counter and twists her mouth thoughtfully. “Crappy,” she says finally, “we’ll call you Crappy.”
“I can work with that,” Bitty agrees.
“What about Uncle Crappy?” Shitty suggests.
“I just met you,” Bitty says, but Shitty continues looking at him with a pleading expression. He sighs in defeat. “Fine.”
The door bursts open at that moment, and Ransom and Holster stumble through. “What’s up, bitches?” Holster shouts excitedly.
“No cursing in front of the baby!” Shitty admonishes. “She’s impressionable.”
Ransom looks confused about so many things in the situation, mainly with who on earth Shitty is, and turns to Bitty. “Uh, why are we no longer swearing in front of Therese?”
“She said her first word. Don’t want her repeating y’all.”
“What? Oh man that’s so dope!” Ransom rushes up to get in Therese’s face. “Little girl growing up! This is so dope, soon we’re going to be able to have conversations with her! She’s just gunna be this little person with thoughts and ideas can you believe that? Wow, dude.”
He is met with blank stares from everyone in the room. “What the fuck, man,” Holster says, “you need to stop hanging out with Nursey.”
“Your mom needs to stop hanging out with Nursey.”
Someone knocks at the door. “Speak of the devil,” Bitty murmurs to himself. “Oh, there’s food on the stove. Help yourselves.”
He answers the door to find Dex and Nursey standing there, Dex holding a box of what looks like muffins from Bitty’s own shop. “Used your employee discount?” Bitty asks with a grin, taking them off of his hands.
Dex snorts and shakes his head. “Those are from one of the batches that I made today. So it’s not nearly as bad as it could have been.”
“Yeah, bringing you something that you made would have been totally not chill,” Nursey says with an easy grin. He ruffles Therese’s patch of gingery hair as he passes her to go into the kitchen and grab some food. “Yo, is this Alfredo?”
“Yeah. And it might be a little bit overcooked cuz I got distracted.” Bitty closes and locks the door behind Dex.
Dex shrugs and smiles shyly at Bitty. “It’s better than anything we make for ourselves at our place.”
“I still can’t believe you two live together.” Bitty shakes his head and moves to hand Therese to Dex. “Can you hold her for a second?”
“Sure. And why is it weird that we live together? I mean, we’ve been dating since college.”
Everyone in the room stops and stares at Dex like he’s grown a second head. Everyone except Nursey, who’s shoveling Fettucine Alfredo into his mouth and seems to not have noticed what is happening. “What? Did I say something wrong?” Dex frowns at everyone. “All I said was that Nursey and I have been dating since college, right Derek?”
Nursey gives him a thumbs up and says, “Yeah,” around a mouthful of pasta.
“But you two hate each other,” Ransom says slowly. “I definitely remember you two making our lives hell your sophomore year.”
Dex shrugs and blushes. “Yeah, we figured it out near the end of our junior year. I thought you guys knew.”
“So it’s been two and a half years?” Bitty asks incredulously, “And none of us noticed?”
Nursey finally swallows and walks over to sling an arm around Dex. “I thought we were kind of obvious. I call him ‘babe’ pretty much exclusively.”
“We thought it was to get on his nerves,” Ransom admits.
“You work for me. How did I not know this?”
“I don’t know, dude. We’re usually pretty chill about it.” Nursey raises one shoulder and glances at the rest of the room to make sure that there are no more questions. “So…are we going to watch the game or what?”
“Yeah,” Bitty says, gesturing with his free arm toward where the remote rests on the coffee table. He reaches for Therese, whose face is starting to twist at being too tired and passed around too much. “Y’all start without me. I’ll just be putting Therese to bed.”
Lardo steps forward with a frown on her face. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take her?”
Bitty knows why she’s doing this. The last few times they all hung out together, he ended up being so exhausted after putting Therese down that he went to bed himself. “Don’t you worry, I’ll just be a minute. I promise, I’ll watch the game.”
Lardo nods and steps aside to let him pass into his bedroom. Once he has Therese down in the crib they’ve been trying to get her to sleep in for at least a little bit each night, with a blanket covering her, it’s incredibly tempting to just lay in his bed and go to sleep. He’s exhausted, has been up since just before 5 running the bakery and handling his daughter and attempting to run his crazy life on his own.
He knows that he’s changed since he adopted Therese, and that his friends miss him for this very reason, but Bitty can’t help it. As much as Lardo helps whenever she can, Bitty is a single father. His life is just different. He can’t always be around to drink and watch hockey games and go out dancing when they invite him.
Bitty used to be the one to drag them out.
It’s overwhelming, if he thinks about it too much. He’s twenty-four; it’s only been two and a half years since he was living in a frat house and partying nearly every weekend (and some weeknights) and since he was the life of the party. Now he puts himself to bed by nine mosts nights and the last time he really drank more than half of a glass of wine was at his parent’s anniversary dinner two months ago.
He wouldn’t trade his life for anything, but sometimes he wishes he had time for more. What he told Jess the other day is true: he is thinking about dating again. Maybe actually having someone there to have fun with will help him. And who knows, maybe he’ll find someone to help share the load that is his life. A real partner.
Not someone who’ll move to Boston and leave him two weeks after something in their relationship changes.
“Bitty? Lardo sent me back here to check on you. How’re you feeling?” Dex pokes his head into the bedroom, a slight frown on his face.
Bitty nods and yawns. He steps away from the crib, thankful that Therese has chosen not to fight her new sleep space tonight, and cracks a tired smile at Dex. “Yeah, I’m coming. Got lost in thought for a second.”
“Okay, cool,” Dex says without a trace of questioning in his voice. This is why Bitty likes him: he understands that sometimes things need to be private and not questioned by friends, as well-meaning as they may be. “Come on, let’s go watch the Bruins get whipped by the Caps.”
Bitty smiles and knocks into Dex’s shoulder as they reenter the living room. “So, you and Nursey? How’s that?”
Dex flushes at the wolf whistles that come from the rest of their friends. Bitty feels a little bit of his exhaustion slip away as he settles onto the couch next to Lardo. He leans his head on her shoulder and she reaches over to run her hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.
“The Bruins are facing a real challenge their first few games in the season. Their first game against the Falconers was brutal, looked like it was going to go to overtime until Jack Zimmermann pulled off that beautiful wrister two seconds before the buzzer. Now tonight they’ll be facing the current Stanley Cup champions after not even making the playoffs last season.”
Holster boos at the reporter when he points out a fact that has been a sore spot for him for the last few months. “I still can’t fucking believe it was the Leafs that knocked us out of our wildcard spot,” He groans, running his hands over his face.
“Fucking tell me about it,” Shitty grouses in agreement. “I mean, damn. How embarrassing can your life get. My cousin in Toronto still hasn’t stopped chirping me about it.”
“Fuck you both, the Leafs are a wonderful organization and you should all appreciate Toronto more,” Ransom grumbles bitterly.
“You’re a Bruins fan?” Holster ignores Ransom and asks Shitty with a grin slowly spreading across his face. When Shitty nods, Holster slaps him roughly on the shoulder. “Well, fuck! Lards, I like this guy already.”
“Oh my God,” Bitty blurts out suddenly, covering his face with his hands and sitting up.
Lardo shifts to look at him. “What is it?”
“I’m the only single person in a room full of couples. I’m a literal seventh wheel.” He flops over onto Lardo’s lap and laughs bitterly. “Why is my life so pathetic.”
“Because you go to bed at eight.”
“And man, let’s talk about that performance from Jack Zimmermann on the ice the other night,” the other reporter on the pregame report says with a whistle.
Shitty sits up and whoops. “There, they’re talking about your boy, Bits!”
“He’s not my boy, he’s just my-“
“Friend and regular customer, we know,” Lardo completes with him an eye roll. “Now shush, we’re missing it.”
“I don’t know what happened over the summer for Zimmermann, but if the other night’s game and the preseason performances we saw from him are anything to go by, his newfound energy might be just what the Falconers need to take it all the way this year. He’s always been a great player and a phenomenal captain, but he’s playing with energy and for the first time in my memory, it actually looks like he’s having fun out there.”
“Fun?” the other reporter chuckles deeply, “The words ‘Jack Zimmermann’ and ‘Fun’ don’t really appear together too often, do they? I remember when he got named Falconers captain, there were multiple petitions to strip Jonathan Toews of the nickname ‘Captain Serious’ and give it to Zimmermann.”
“I never really got that. Jack’s always been really fun to be around,” Bitty remarks with a slight frown tugging his mouth down. “And he’s, like, really funny.”
Shitty grins at Bitty like he knows something that Bitty himself does not. “Of course he is around you. But you should have seen the bastard last season. Constantly looking like he was sucking on a lemon. And during playoffs? Levels of bitchiness that you’ve never seen before.”
“I’ve heard that he used to make rookies do suicides if he felt they weren’t pulling their weight,” Ransom supplies.
“And he didn’t have a nickname before this year, either.”
“I heard that Bucks got traded because he wanted to get away from Zimmermann.” Holster takes a swig of his beer.
Bitty purses his lips and crosses his arms over his chest. “No…that’s not right. Jack is really nice. When I met him he volunteered to calm down Therese. And he always buys this one homeless guy a cup of coffee and a cranberry scone every time he’s in the shop.”
Shitty smiles apologetically at Bitty and claps him on the shoulder. “I know. Honestly, the kid’s done a complete 180 since you met him. It’s a good thing, too, cuz while I always saw the good in him and loved that Canadian Adonis, he wasn’t always great with others. Now he actually has friends and shit.”
“He didn’t have friends before?”
“I’m pretty sure he only had five people in his phone: his parents, me, Kent Parson, and Tater,” Shitty confirms with a nod. “Maybe his uncles Mario and Wayne,” he tacks on as an afterthought.
Ransom freezes and turns to Shitty with wide eyes. “Please tell me his ‘Uncles Mario and Wayne’ aren’t Mario Lemieux and Wayne Gretzky.”
Shitty tips his beer bottle toward Ransom. “That’ll be them. Nice guys.”
“Oh my God. I need to steal Jack Zimmermann’s phone.” Ransom looks dreamily off into the distance. “Access to Lemieux, Gretzky, Bad Bob, and Parson all in one place.”
“And Mashkov,” Holster supplies helpfully.
“Sounds like Ransom’s dream six-way,” Lardo laughs mockingly at Ransom, who looks like he might actually be imagining just that.
“I have such a huge hockey boner for those guys.”
“I think that might just be a regular boner, man.” Holster receives a slap on the arm but doesn’t look for a moment like he regrets it. “What? Don’t think I don’t know that you have the pics from Parson’s Body Issue saved in your porn folder.”
“I keep trying to convince Jack to do one of those,” Shitty remarks idly. “What do you think, Bitty? You think Jackabelle should bare his bits?”
He’s grinning at Bitty like he knows exactly what kind of filthy lustful thoughts have run through Bitty’s mind in the shower. Bitty flushes and covers his face in his hands. “Oh my gracious.”
Lardo pats Bitty’s head and glares at Shitty. “Leave the poor boy alone, he has yet to realize that Zimms is the love of his little Ssouthern life.”
“Larissa Duan! Hush your mouth!” Bitty chides her sternly.
“Yo, Bitty,” Nursey says with a shit eating grin, “chill.”
This earns Nursey a laugh and a slap on the chest from his boyfriend, but Dex grins at Bitty and nods all the same.
“I hate all of you.”
-
guess whos a talker now
Really?
yeah :) she said ‘daddy’
That’s amazing, Eric
Are you going to watch our game tomorrow?
yeah! I think shitty’s coming over to my place too, so that’ll be fun
dont lose to wpegg. That would be embarrassing
haha. Ok.
Tell Therese I say hi.
<3 she sends her love
Jack puts his phone on his chest and stares up at the ceiling of his hotel room. He takes a deep breah and sends a text to Shitty.
I think you might be right
:D YOU FUCKER
-
Jack makes decisions. It’s a talent of his that has gotten him where he is today. It’s the reason he’s known for having no hesitation on the ice, for being able to get the puck on his tape and just go with it.
But for all that Jack is good at making decisions on the ice, he’s not so arrogant to think that he doesn’t need help sometimes. He learned that lesson early when his father found him mid-panic attack on the bathroom floor with a pill bottle in his hands.
The decision not to enter the draft and to wait before going into talks with any teams that might still want him was terrifying, but it was right. And he imagines that if he hadn’t relied on his support system for help making it, he might not have prevented something a whole lot worse than a panic attack.
But he at least knew what the options were back then.
Jack pulls out his phone to find a “congrats!!!” text from Bitty, and he realizes that he doesn’t even know why he needs to make any sort of decisions. Because he doesn’t know what Bitty is to him.
So Jack calls the one person who can probably help, who is also the one person who will be, without a doubt, the biggest asshole about this.
“Jack Zimmermann, you fuckin’ beaut, to what do I owe the pleasure of a post-game call? By the way, that wraparound goal in the second? Damn near came in my pants just watching it. It was beautiful.”
“You were wearing pants? Wow, I’m proud, Shits.” Jack snorts into the phone and shoulders his bag, ready to finally leave and go home after what was honestly an easy win, but still an exhausting game.
“Admittedly, no, but the sentiment still holds. You know what wraparounds do to me.”
“You’re really fuckin weird, you know that?”
“Back to the point. I know you had a reason for callin’ me, you sweet sweet Canadian Prince. As much as I like to think of myself as the one true love of your life, you don’t usually call me on game days.”
Jack rolls his eyes and holds the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he flashes his ID to get onto the team bus. “Well, you’re not wrong. Remember what we were talking about the other day?”
Shitty gasps in a way that can only really be described as delicate and then releases a high pitched shriek into the phone. “You mean your undying lLove for one Eric Richard Bittle, maker of the best fucking blueberry crumble that I’ve ever eaten? Father of a beautiful daughter who might be sunlight in human form? God among men and the love of your life?”
Jack sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes as he settles into his seat in the back of the bus. “Yes, that.”
There’s rustling on the other end of the line and Shitty lets out a muffled curse. “One sec, lemme grab some water real quick.”
“Uh, okay?”
“Sorry, that was to Lardo.”
“Are you never not with her nowadays?”
“We both have jobs, if that’s what you’re asking. But we’re bros. Best bros. Who have awesome sex,” Shitty responds easily. “So yeah, we spend a lot of time together.”
“Anyways, back to my Bitty situation,” Jack says, trying to direct this conversation back to something resembling what Jack needs at the moment.
“Look, Jack. You and Bitty are like…fuck. You’re like soulmates. I swear on my dear grandmother’s favorite pearls, I’ve never seen anything like it. I don’t think there’s a wrong way to go about this.” Shitty sighs and Jack hears more rustling and a murmured greeting to who he assumes is Lardo.
“He’s got a baby. His life is complicated. I just…don’t want to scare him off.”
-
“You did not buy skates for an eight-month-old baby.”
Jack blushes and rubs at the back of his neck. He gestures awkwardly to the skates. “I mean, they’re obviously not for now but eventually she’ll be able to wear them.”
“You flippin’ beaut,” Shitty says enthusiastically, editing his language for the sake of Bitty’s wishes, “you just wanted to be the one to buy her her first pair of skates, didn’t you?”
Jack laughs and nods fake-bashfully. “Yeah, I guess. But I am the professional hockey player here, so it’s absolutely my right.”
Bitty rolls his eyes at Jack fondly and sets the skates aside, reaching for the next of the gifts from his friends for Therese. “Y’all are so weird.”
The next present is some blocks and a train set from Lardo, who appears to have painted them herself “with baby safe paints, of course.”
Bitty smiles at her and reaches out to grasp her hand. “Y’all know that you didn’t actually have to get presents for her, right? I mean, it’s not even a birthday, it’s just eight months.”
Holster gasps and clutches a hand to his chest. “Are you kidding me? Not celebrate every single moment of the little angel’s life? Bits, I’m appalled.”
Therese gives her input in the form of a happy giggle as she picks up the wooden train and bangs it on the ground. Bitty reaches for it instinctively but Lardo simply laughs and shakes her head. “Trust me, it’s durable.”
Bitty is laughing and snapping pictures of Therese “playing” with her new toys when a knock on the door brings a sudden chill to the room. He bites his lip and glances around at all of his guests. “Uh, that must be Trevor. Give me two moments and I’ll be back.”
As he rounds the corner, Bitty picks up the box of books and a couple of sweaters, the only reminders that this was once Trevor’s apartment left there. The weight of the box is enough to hide the fact that he’s fairly certain his hands would be shaking were it not for their being occupied.
“Eric,” Trevor breathes out as soon as Bitty opens the door, looking for all the world like he wasn’t expecting the door to actually open. He looks good, just as good as Eric always remembered him looking. Strong jaw, dark hair perfectly styled, sweater and oxford combo making him look devastatingly handsome.
Bitty holds out the box to Trevor and resolutely doesn’t make eye contact with him. “Here. The things that you asked for.”
Trevor doesn’t take the box. “Wait, I actually wanted to talk to you. Can I come in?”
Bitty glances over his shoulder to see everyone in the living room looking at the two of them. He steps outside of the apartment and closes the door. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Eric, please. Just let me talk to you.”
“I’m letting you talk, just not in there.” Bitty pushes the box into Trevor’s hands to force him to take it and crosses his arms across his chest. “So say what you have to.”
Trevor is clearly set off balance, and puts the box down on the floor before straightening up and adjusting his thick framed glasses. “Look, I’m sorry. I fucked up, Eric. I seriously fucked up.”
Bitty nods. He’s not wrong.
“I never should have left you,” Trevor says, a note of desperation clear in his voice, “I was scared and I acted on impulse and I have regretted it every day.”
The words strike Bitty deep, right into those nights after Trevor left him to move to Boston and he was left alone with a crying infant and nobody to turn to for support. Those nights when he would have killed to have this. “You left, Trevor. You left me alone with a bakery and a baby and you think it’s all better just because you were scared? I was scared!” He can feel his voice climbing, and tries to will his emotions down.
Trevor was the love of his life. “Eric, we were together for over three years. That has to mean something to you.”
“It didn’t mean anything to you. And leaving me when I need you most means more than the good times before it.”
“Can I see her?”
Bitty’s stomach twists and he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think that’s best.”
Trevor frowns. “I was there for Candy’s pregnancy and for her birth.”
Bitty shakes his head again, this time feeling like he’s been doused in cold water. “I raised her, she’s my daughter and I don’t want you to see her.”
“Eric-“
“No.” Bitty drops his arms and reaches behind himself for the doorknob. It’s locked. “I think you should go.”
Just then, though, the door opens and Bitty nearly falls backwards into Jack. “Bits, is everything okay?”
Bitty smiles and nods. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Jack. We’re done out here.”
Trevor looks absolutely torn apart and he takes a step forward as though to enter behind them, but Jack holds out a hand. “I don’t believe you were invited in.”
“Eric, please.” Trevor reaches out desperately. “Let me take you to coffee.”
“I-you can text me,” is all Bitty can think to say before shutting the door firmly behind himself and finally putting a barrier between himself and the man who he thought was everything. Bitty turns to Jack with a weak smile. “Thanks, Jack.”
“Hey, come with me,” Jack says with a smile, directing Bitty to the kitchen. He looks like he’s got some sort of surprise waiting there but Bitty has no idea what it could possibly be. All that’s exciting in his kitchen is the funeral wreath that Lardo put together for Betsy.
“That’s not Betsy.” Bitty stops dead in his tracks and covers his mouth with a hand. “That is…a beautiful oven. Why is this oven in my kitchen? How is this oven in my kitchen?”
The others come into the kitchen, all with matching grins on their faces. “It’s your new oven, Bits, we got it installed while you were at work today,” Lardo says, for once shedding her ‘too cool to be excited’ exterior.
Bitty turns to Jack in awe. He can feel tears pricking up at the back of his eyes and he will not be crying over an oven. He will not. “Oh Jack, this is too much.”
“We all chipped in,” Jack says with a shrug like it’s no big deal that Bitty now has a top of the line oven. And, well.
Bitty is crying over an oven. He collapses onto Jack’s chest because he’s closest and grips his biceps tightly. “Oh this is too much for me, I’m a mess.”
Jack puts a hand on the small of Bitty’s back and chuckles, quiet and deep. “Take all the time you need, Bits.”
-
please, let me take you to coffee. We need to talk.
Bitty groans at the notification and pockets his phone, feeling it buzz again with what is probably another begging text from Trevor. He leans forward onto the steel countertop and shakes his head. “Please, please kill me, Dex.”
Dex, who is in the middle of cutting butter into cubes, pauses. “Uh…no?”
“But Trevor won’t stop texting me asking to get coffee. What am I supposed to do?”
Dex shrugs and starts dumping the cubed butter into the food processor with the dry ingredients for the biscuits. “I’m not good at all that, you know. Nursey’s the one you want.”
“What I want is to be shot,” Bitty says grumpily, running a hand over his face, “or for someone to stop sending me mixed signals when really I just need directness because I have a baby. I can’t just-“ He trails off and groans. “I don’t know.”
Dex frowns at Bitty and narrows his eyes. “I feel like this is about more than just Trevor.”
“Real fuckin’ astute.”
“So you’re finally accepting that you do, in fact, have feelings for Jack? Can we all stop watching you weirdly pine and deny your feelings?” Dex is far too sassy and brutal for Bitty’s taste. But something about his no-bullshit attitude has always been very comforting to Bitty, so he can’t really complain.
“It’s more complicated than that, and you know it, but yes. I realized on Friday when Jack was being so supportive about Trevor bullshit.”
“Hey, I never said it wasn’t complicated,” Dex says, putting his hands up in defense, “but I think you should probably talk to Jack about it, at the very least.”
Bitty shakes his head again and weighs the option of sitting on the floor. “Or, I could just never tell him and eventually get over it.”
“Or you could be honest with one of your best friends and let him know how you feel, eventually bringing you closer. As friends, or possibly as lovers.” Dex tacks on the last part with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Bitty throws a spoon at him.
“I need you to shut the fuck up.”
-
“Bitty? I wasn’t expecting a call from you. What’s up?” Jack sounds like his mouth is full as he talks into the phone and Bitty checks the wall clock. 4:15. Jack’s probably eating chicken breast and steamed spinach like he does a few hours before every game. His usual PB&J will come later.
“I-uh-was wondering if…”
Your hair is as soft as it looks?
If you could possibly be into men?
If you could possibly be into me?
“…if you could help me out with the whole Trevor situation. I need some advice.”
A chuckle comes through the line. “And you decided to ask me? I don’t know if you need Sshitty to remind you of this, but I’m not the best with emotional stuff. Hockey robot, and all that,” Jack says, a note of self-deprecation evident in his voice.
Bitty shakes his head, then realizes that Jack can’t see him. “Jack, you’re one of my best friends. Of course I want your input. I trust you.” I love you.
“Oh. Uh, okay? What do you need?”
Bitty wants to shoot himself in the face. Why is he talking about Trevor? He didn’t want to talk about Trevor. “He asked me out to get coffee and I’m not sure if I should go or not.”
“Like, a date?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you still…have feelings for him?”
Bitty pauses. Before Friday, the answer to that had been a resolute no. But seeing Trevor again had brought back all sorts of nostalgia and memories that Bitty hadn’t been able to escape all weekend. But now it was Monday and time to face the fact that Bitty might still have some lingering emotions toward his ex.
Yes, Bitty was fairly certain he loved Jack, but he knew that he loved Trevor for years. And he had stood by Bitty when Candy had come to him pregnant and lost. Trevor was amazing with her, always ready and willing to help.
But then he left when the real work started. And Jack showed up and stayed. Stayed when he saw how messy Bitty’s life was and how chaotic everything about him was.
But Jack has never shown any romantic interest in him. Sure, he’s withdrawn and hard to read, but that doesn’t give Bitty any reason to assume that there might be something between them.
“I don’t know. I think I might have some.”
Jack takes a deep breath on the other line. “Well he did mean a lot to you, so giving him a chance might be beneficial, eh? He made you happy then, maybe he’ll still do that.”
“Yeah,” Bitty says, drawing it out as though tasting the way opening that door again makes him feel, “you’re right. I’m going to call him.”
“Listen, I’ve got to go. Are you going to watch the game tonight?”
“I’m going to try.”
“Alright. Bye, Eric.”
-
Jack hangs up the phone and stares at his plate of chicken breast and steamed spinach. “Fuck,” he whispers to the spinach. “Crisse de Câlisse,” to the chicken.
He just told Bitty to go on a date with his ex. What was he thinking? Here he was, trying to come up with a plan to woo Eric, and he just turned around and told him to date his ex.
There was no way that Jack could compete with years of trust and love and living together. Sure, he was an asshole who left Bitty alone with a baby, but there were real feelings there, and he was back, so who knew how strong Bitty’s feelings really are?
Jack is an idiot.
Fuck, and Trevor is far more handsome than Jack had ever let himself imagine. He’s sharply dressed, styled, and has an intelligence in his eyes that Jack knows he doesn’t have. Trevor is everything that Bitty should want, a perfect compliment. Jack is what?
A hockey player who can never seem to talk about anything else.
He won’t get in their way, as much as he might want to. He doesn’t want to lose Eric completely, doesn’t want to lose Dex, Nursey, Lardo, and Therese. No matter what happens, he wants to be part of her life.
It might be weird since he’s in no way her family, but he cares about her more than he feels like he should.
Jack’s phone buzzes on the table, and some ridiculous part of him thinks that it might be Bitty texting to say “I don’t love Trevor, I love you. I want you, Jack.”
Of course, that’s ridiculous. It’s just Tater texting him “where you, captain? Whole team is meeting for dinner!”
-
“Good morning, handsome.”
Bitty wakes up, as he does most mornings, to Trevor sitting up in bed next to him, already awake for the last few hours and reading his book of the week. His glasses slip down his nose and Bitty sits up a bit to push them up for him. Trevor smiles in a way that wrinkles his nose and makes Bitty’s heart skip a bit. Just like most mornings.
“Do we have any more of the croissants from that coffee shop you like left?” Bitty asks as he sits up, stretching. He’s taking the day off, and he plans on spending it laying around with his boyfriend. “I’m starving.”
“No, someone got wine drunk last night and ate the last three with too much raspberry jam.”
Bitty wrinkles his nose and pokes Trevor in the thigh. “First of all, you let me do that. Second, there is no such thing as too much raspberry jam.”
Trevor laughs and catches Bitty’s hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “How are you feeling after that, by the way?”
“Starving,” Bitty answers emphatically. “And surprisingly not horrible. Are you sure you have to go to work today?”
Trevor hooks a finger under Bitty’s chin and kisses him lightly. “Tragically, yes. But don’t think that the sight of you laying here all warm and cuddly isn’t giving me serious second thoughts.”
Bitty whines and wraps his arms around Trevor’s waist in a half-hearted attempt to keep him from leaving bed. But still, Trevor pulls himself away, giving Bitty the chance to admire his bare ass as he saunters over to the bathroom. “You’re welcome to join me in the shower.”
“No, I really should at least do something productive today. I’ll start on breakfast.”
Bitty’s in the middle of whisking together some batter for muffins when there’s a knock on the door. “Babe, are we expecting visitors?” he calls back to the bedroom even though he knows perfectly well that Trevor is still showering. He walks over to the door, thinking that it must be a package or something of the like. He glances through the peephole and…
Surely, he’s hallucinating. “Candy?” Bitty wrenches the door open to find his cousin standing there, looking terrified. She has a suitcase. “What are you doing here? You know your parents told you-“
“Never to talk to you again?” Candy finishes for him. “Yeah, well they also told me not to come home since I got myself knocked up. Turns out they’re not always right. Or ever right, for that matter.”
Bitty steps back automatically to let her into the apartment. He doesn’t even have the wherewithal to help her with her back as she struggles across the threshold. “You’re pregnant? Well, of course you’re going to be living here, we have an extra bedroom. Trevor’s using it as an office right now, but we can easily make it a bedroom for you. Lord, we need to find you a doctor and-oh! Are you hungry? I’m making breakfast.”
Just at that moment, Trevor comes out from the back of the apartment, buttoning up his shirt. “Hey, what’s going on out here? Are you talking to someone, Eric?” He freezes at the sight of Candy with her suitcase and Bitty biting his nails.
“Trevor, you remember my cousin Candace. She’s uh-pregnant. Her parents kicked her out and I told her she could stay here,” Bitty explains nervously.
Trevor steps forward and rests a hand on Bitty’s back. “Of course, Babe. Holy fuck, are you alright, Candy?”
“I’m alright, just kind of scared, I guess? I mean, this is all so crazy, I don’t really know what to do.”
-
Bitty’s going out with Trevor again today. That’s…fine. Jack is okay with that. Honestly, as long as Bitty’s happy, Jack is okay with that. It’s fine.
Except it’s not fine, and Jack can feel it pulsing through his system as he runs. He runs faster than he normally does, if only to make his pace actually match the pounding of his heart. None of this is okay. Bitty’s on a date with a guy who’s absolutely not right for him, and Jack told him to go. Everything about this is totally wrong.
Jack doesn’t assume to be the right guy for Bitty, but he knows for sure that it’s not Trevor.
Jack runs to ‘Pied and Joy’ and is disappointed to find Dex behind the counter, even though he knew that Bitty wasn’t working today. He is pleased to find Lardo sitting at a table bouncing Therese on her lap, though. He takes the seat across from her without even thinking, and holds his arms out for Therese, who reaches out as well.
“Daddy!” She coos excitedly, practically crawling over the table to reach him. Jack’s stomach flips.
“Uh, she probably just associates ‘guy who loves me’ with Daddy,” Jack says, though his cheeks are hot and he’s got a very self-satisfied feeling growing in his stomach.
Lardo nods benignly and quirks the left corner of her mouth of. “Sure, man. So, what brings you in here? Bitty’s not here right now, though I think he should be back from his date soon.”
“Is it really a date? I mean, he’s just getting coffee with his ex, that doesn’t have to be a date,” Jack says, absolutely hating how petulant his voice sounds at the moment. He focuses on making funny faces at Therese to get her to laugh instead. He is rewarded by that perfect giggle and everything feels just a touch less awful.
Lardo smirks at Jack again and he shakes his head at her. “Shut up.”
“You should tell him how you feel, you know.”
“I want to. I need to,” Jack says seriously. “He’s everything, you know? I don’t want to be without him…ever.”
“Woah, dude. I said tell him how you feel, not propose,” Lardo chuckles and sips her coffee.
Jack pauses mid-stealing a sip from Lardo’s cup. “It’s…it’s probably too early for that, right?”
“Considering how you two aren’t even together? I’d say so. Jesus Christ, Zimmermann.”
Jack sighs and shakes his head. She’s right. “He’s coming to my game tomorrow. I’ll do something then. The way I feel about him…it’s different.”
“Different?” Lardo asks with a tone of voice that says that she knows exactly what he’s talking about, but wants him to admit it.
Jack nods eagerly. “I’ve never felt like this before. I want him to be happy and safe and I just…I think I might love him.”
Lardo tilts her head to the side, considering him. “Look, you might not want to lead with that, but I trust you not to hurt him. So you have my full permission to go for it, man.”
“Uh, thanks?”
The door opens to the coffee shop and Bitty enters. Jack would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see that he was alone and not with Trevor, as he assumed that he would be had the date gone very well. His good mood is quashed, however, when Bitty catches Jack’s eye and his face falls even further. He crosses his arms across his chest and closes his eyes.
“Lardo, would you mind watching Therese for a little bit longer? I need to go take a nap,” Bitty says without sparing another glance at Jack. Or anyone, really. The floor seems to be very interesting to him at the moment.
“You alright, Bits?” Lardo asks. She stands and walks over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You seem off.”
Bitty shrugs her arm off and shakes his head. “I just…Trevor gave me some things to think about. And I’m really exhausted. So I’ll just be heading back home if that’s alright?” The last part comes out snappy and sharp, like he really desperately wants this conversation to be over.
Jack bites his tongue to keep from adding something in. If Bitty wanted to talk to him, he would have already done so.
-
“So who was that guy? The big one who looked like he wanted to kill me,” Trevor asks with a clearly false nonchalance as he stirs far too much sugar into his coffee.
“That was Jack.” Bitty answers shortly, not wanting to give him any bit of information about his life. It’s really none of his business anymore.
Trevor sits back in his seat and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay, so…Jack. Is Jack your boyfriend?”
“No.” Bitty crosses his arms across his chest. “Not that it’s really any of your business.”
“Jesus, Eric, you could at least be civil to me! When you called I thought…fuck, I thought we were really going to try to work things out,” Trevor exclaims and he looks absolutely defeated. “But apparently you just wanted to rub exactly how much I fucked up in my face. So, thanks, but I’ll be going now.”
“He made you happy then, maybe he’ll still do that.”
Bitty reaches out and grabs at Trevor’s sleeve. “Wait. Don’t…don’t go.”
Trevor pauses, looks at Bitty with what looks like hope in his eyes. He smiles a half smile that used to make Bitty’s heart skip several beats.
“I was being harsh, I know. It’s just…Trevor you hurt me. You hurt me and you left.”
“I know.”
“And now I have people who really care about me. I’ve got Lardo and Shitty and Jack-“
“Jack. You’re sure he’s not your boyfriend?” Trevor asks again. “Because the way he was acting all protective of you and glaring at me…coulda fooled me.”
Bitty shakes his head, suddenly unsure of himself. “Jack’s not…he doesn’t…we’re not together.”
Trevor frowns slightly and shakes his head. “But you want to be. And that’s why I’ll never get a chance.”
Bitty starts and moves to cover Trevor’s hand with his own. “No, I never said that. Maybe if we just talked a bit more-“
“No, you’re in love with him,” Trevor says in a voice that sounds almost dejected. “And that’s okay. I just don’t think it’s my place to stand in the way of the feelings you two obviously have for each other.”
“I’m so sorry,” is all Bitty can think to say. He’s really so sorry that he can’t give Trevor the second chance he maybe deserves, but Trevor is right. Bitty loves Jack. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever love anyone the way he loves Jack.
“Eric, you were the love of my life, but I wasn’t yours, and that’s okay. I’ll always regret the day I walked out; that’s just how it goes sometimes.”
-
Bitty considers not going. He hasn’t really spoken to Jack since he told Bitty to go out with Trevor again, and going to his home opener, sitting in the family section, all feels like too much for Eric. It almost feels like Jack is laughing at Bitty for being in love with him.
Surely he knows by now. Bitty never was good at subtlety.
But he can’t just cancel. No, that would be too obvious.
Still, he regrets his decision when he’s seated between the wives of Guy and Marty, both of whom are cooing at Therese and bemoaning the fact that their own children are now second graders. Therese herself isn’t too upset by the sound of the arena, thank goodness, but Bitty has a pair of baby sized sound cancelling headphones in his diaper bag just in case.
“You know, I’ve been wondering for so long when we were going to meet you! Jack brings some of your stuff to every team dinner, and it seems like he’s always bringing you up,” Guy’s wife, Layla, says enthusiastically as she reaches out to pull Therese into her lap. She puffs up her cheeks at Therese, who giggles and pats her face.
Bitty’s cheeks color and he looks down at his now empty lap. Jack talks about him? He knows he and Jack are friends and that it’s probably nothing more than that, but with the way everything in his life has been going recently, it’s almost too much to think about.
Jack skates by then, pausing in his warmup to smile and wave at Bitty and Therese, the latter of whom squeals and leans forward to smack at the glass.
“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”
Bitty’s jaw clenches and it feels as though a bucket of ice water has been dumped over him. If hearing that Jack talked about him felt like too much, this is certainly more than Bitty can handle.
Jack freezes and looks at Bitty with an entirely unreadable expression on his face before skating away quickly. Bitty clenches his fists and turns to Layla with a forced smile. “Would you mind watching Therese for just a minute? I’ve got to make a quick call,” is all he says before dashing out of his seat and up the stairs to the nearest exit.
He’s in the parking lot before he feels entirely calm and knows he’s got about two minutes before someone comes looking for him. God, he just left his daughter with a woman he barely knows. He’s definitely not winning parent of the year any time soon.
“Calm down, Bittle,” he whispers to himself, pacing in short bursts. “This doesn’t fucking mean anything. She just recognizes Jack as someone who cares about her. And he cares about her, not you.”
“God fucking dammit!” He shouts to the heavens, feeling for all the world like everything is about to shatter. There’s something about to night that makes Bitty feel like his carefully crafted world might not be able to keep itself in balance anymore.
But Jack would never intentionally hurt Bitty, and he knows that. Jack didn’t do any of this on purpose. As much as Eric might want to yell and scream at him for ruining everything, Jack didn’t do any of this.
This is all Bitty’s fault for not drawing lines. For not keeping feelings and actions in check. This is his fault. And he’s going to start living by actual rules starting tonight.
Starting tonight, he can’t love Jack Zimmermann anymore.
Bitty returns to his seat and takes Therese from Layla with a grin and a murmured “thanks,” using all of his southern charm to turn the awkwardness of the moment around in a jiffy. It’s only a few brief moments before he’s got the girls chattering about where to get a good pedicure done in the city.
He settles in to watch the game, making himself focus on the amazing hockey being played-and God, Bitty has missed hockey-rather than on the man wearing a number 1 on his jersey. They’re playing the Blackhawks and Bitty can’t help himself when he cheers at Duncan Keith’s amazing slapshot two seconds from the end of the second period. (His aunt lives in Chicago; it’s how he was raised.)
It’s a tough fight, and when the Falcs win in OT, Bitty cradles a now sleeping Therese (babies really can sleep through anything when they want to, he’s learned) to his chest and cheers loudly with the others in his section.
And it’s about hockey, not at all about Jack Zimmermann.
-
Right, left, right, left, stop, shoot. Practiced movements that Jack knows will work. The puck slides across the line and the horn sounds and Jack throws his arms up. It’s hockey, it’s what he loves. Hockey is everything he knows, and everything that makes him happy.
But right now, it doesn’t feel like the joy coursing through him has anything to do with hockey. No, this joy has everything to do with the man sitting glass side with a baby close to his chest while he cheers. Right now, Jack can only focus on his smile as the Falconers pile on top of Jack in a celly, the way Bitty laughs and snaps a picture of it all.
Jack wraps his arms around Tater and laughs loud and bright. “Good goal! Good fucking shot, Jacky!” Marty screams from someone behind him and Jack can’t help but kiss his glove and point over toward the family section. It’s a small movement, probably not visible to anyone outside of the huddle, and hardly noticed by those who could see it.
He’s not going to hide this anymore. Jack can’t hide how much he loves the boy who shines golden bright in the stands, in his flannel and jeans with his baby looking like everything that Jack has ever wanted.
He’s going to have this.
-
When Bitty comes down to the locker room after PR shit is done just like Jack had asked he do, Jack’s heart skips a couple of beats. Bitty’s dressed in a Zimmermann jersey and he’s got Therese sleeping soundly in a baby sling close to his chest. Jack watches as Bitty smooths a hand over her hair and whispers something to her.
When Jack had seen Bitty in the WAGs box, it was safe to say that Jack’s imagination ran wild. This is really no better.
“Bits, I’m so glad you could make it. And that you brought my favorite girl!” Jack coos and leans in to brush some of her bright orange curls away from Therese’s face. “I would ask to hold her, but I don’t want to wake her.”
Bitty laughs and shakes his head. “Honestly, after tonight, I’m beginning to really think that she can sleep through anything.”
“That’s probably true,” Jack says with a warm chuckle, stepping just a bit closer to Bitty and only feeling slightly bad about it. He doesn’t have this yet, but he will soon. He’s sure of that.
Bitty, though, stiffens up slightly and the smile that spreads across his face doesn’t look entirely genuine. “You alright, Eric?”
“Just tired. Not used to staying up this late.”
Jack nods, though he’s not completely convinced. Luckily, Tater comes up at that moment to break through the tension. “Zimmboni! This is small baker, yes? And tiny baby.”
“I am normal sized, thank you!” Bitty fights back with a small slap to Tater’s arm. “And yes, this is my daughter, Therese. It’s nice to meet you, Tater. Jack’s told me you’re a fan of my snickerdoodles?”
“Snickerdoodles, cakes, pies, anything you bake, I will eat.”
Bitty reaches into his bag and produces a small Tupperware containing a mini pie. “Well, this isn’t much, but I hope you’ll like it.”
Jack puts a hand lightly on the small of Bitty’s back and pushes forward, “Come on, let’s get out of this stinky locker room.”
Bitty glances at Jack and opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but shakes his head and smiles instead. “Right. I should be getting home.”
Jack frowns to himself. No, that’s not what he meant. He just wants to get Bitty away from all of these assholes on his team so he can tell him everything that’s been rattling around in his brain for the past few days. But Bitty can’t seem to get far enough away from him.
Jack is sure the way he feels isn’t unrequited. It can’t be.
“Look, Bits,” he starts as they walk through the parking lot together. “The last six months have been…knowing you has just been so-“
Bitty’s eyebrows draw together slightly but he nods. “Yeah, Jack, I’m really glad we’re friends.”
Jack stops because no that’s not what he meant. “Well, yeah, but I wanted to say that you make me feel so…crisse.” He can’t find the words.
Bitty adjusts the sling on his front and shakes his head, “Jack, what’s wrong?”
Jack frowns and tries to find something to say, but he knows he’ll never find the right words to explain this to Bitty, how he feels. So he does what he does on the ice: he acts.
-
Bitty is just about to tell Jack that he has to go home when suddenly there are large hands on his biceps and slightly chapped lips pressed against his own. For a moment he lets himself melt into it, lets himself be kissed hard by Jack Zimmermann, and it’s everything he always thought it would be. It’s so much more than he always thought it would be.
Then Therese finally wakes up and starts fussing between them and Bitty remembers.
He remembers that this most certainly doesn’t mean as much to Jack as it does to him.
That he has a child.
That he’s not just some twenty-something year old being kissed by his crush. There’s so much more here that all spells out ”This won’t work.”
Bitty steps back and he can’t look at Jack. He instead looks down at Therese and frowns. “I’d better go. I’ll text you.”
“Ok,” Jack answers, sounding sadder than Bitty can ever remember.
He doesn’t run away, but it’s a close thing. No, Bitty walks to his car alone, cooing to Therese the whole time, puts her in her carseat, and drives back home with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
Everything in him is screaming to go back, but Bitty knows better. They didn’t talk about it, have never even hinted at a relationship like that. Jack was just acting on impulse or worse, just trying to pity Bitty with something that he’ll never really have. Bitty has a child and his own business. He can’t just run around kissing closeted boys without talking about it first like he has nothing to lose.
-
Sometimes plays go badly. Sometimes you act on the ice and the puck doesn’t go in. Sometimes things fall apart and you lose a game. Jack knows this. He lives this.
Still, when he’s left alone in the parking lot of the arena, lips still warm with the feeling of Bitty’s against his, he can’t bring himself to accept it the way he normally would.
What just happened was wrong. Never in all of Jack’s daydreaming did he ever imagine that Bitty would just…leave. Jack pulls his phone out of his pocket. His hands are still shaking slightly from shock over kissing Bitty and being left.
But Bitty had kissed him back, he can’t deny that…
“Jackie boy! How’s it going?” Shitty is as jovial as ever when he picks up, crowing almost loudly enough for Jack to hold the phone away from his face.
“I kissed Eric,” Jack sighs out, and can practically see Shitty waiting for him to expand on the other end. “I kissed him and he...fuck, he ran away, Shits.”
On the other end of the line, Jack hears Shitty let out a string of curses before talking to someone. “Jack, what exactly happened? Fuck, I thought...fuck him, man. Seriously, I don’t know what his deal is.”
“His deal is that I kissed him and he didn’t want me to, Shits. I didn’t think at all, and I should have just talked to him. I tried to talk to him but he kept trying to redirect me, and I didn’t take that sign. This is like, consent 101, Shits,” Jack groans into the phone.
Shitty sighs. “Yeah, Jack, I know. I just…fuck him, you know? Are you still at the arena?”
“Yeah, Shits, I am. Meet me by my car?”
“I’m on my way. And look…Lardo’s going to talk to Bitty, figure out what’s happening there.”
Jack leans against his car, arms crossed against the cold, glad that the mid October weather of Providence is chilly enough to explain away his slight shaking.
Shitty has his hands shoved in his pockets and his hair in a bun on top of his head, collar of his jacket flipped up against the breeze. “Gimme the keys, bro. I’m driving.”
“Where are we going?” Jack asks, but hands them over without a fight.
Shitty sighs and rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jack to get in the car. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know where we’re going. You know where we’re going.”
“It’s forty degrees, Shits.” Jack knows that his argument means nothing. They’ve done this in weather as cold as he can remember. And he knows that he needs it.
He’s just not sure if he wants to feel better right now.
Forty minutes of silence later, Shitty pulls up to South Street diner and leaves Jack in the car while he runs inside. He comes back with a bag and a cup holder with two Styrofoam cups. Jack takes a sip from the straw and smiles slightly to himself as he drinks the perfect strawberry milkshake (the only strawberry milkshake) one can get at one AM in Boston.
Another twenty minutes (and a lot of speeding) later, they’re standing on a beach together. A beach that is technically closed and that they shouldn’t be at, but it’s one in the morning. Nobody is going to care to check.
Jack strips off his shoes and socks, rolls his jeans up his shins, and steps into the shallows. It’s cold, absolutely too cold to be doing this, but the feeling of the water and sand between his toes helps him feel more centered.
“I just. I really thought that I’d be holding him right now, you know? I thought that he’d kiss me back and then we’d be together. God, what kind of idiot, right?”
Starting in late September of Shitty’s first year with the Falcs, Jack and Shitty would come out to Revere beach and stand in the water until Jack got his head out of his ass. It’s been a while since they last did it, but the effect is still the same.
“You took a shot, bro. I’m proud of you for that.” Shitty looks like he wants to clap Jack on the shoulder, but thankfully keeps his distance for the time being. He knows Jack needs time to process and not be touched unless he explicitly asks for it. “I think…I think Bitty’s going through a lot of stress right now. I know that fucker’s gone on you, I just think he’s scared.”
“I would never hurt him.”
“I know that, and I think Bitty knows that, but you just gotta talk to him and work this out before you go kissing him again, alright?”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
Shitty grins at Jack and gestures out at the water grandly with both arms. “Nothing like the magnificence of the ocean to help you with your boy problems, eh?”
Jack laughs, tilts his head back, and chirps, “You’re starting to sound like me there, Shits.”
-
“Bits you love him.”
“I know.”
“So why did you run away when he kissed you?” Lardo demands, hands on her hips. She’s not going to give an inch for Bitty. They’ve known each other long enough to know that she’s doing him a favor by calling him out on his bullshit.
Bitty sighs and glances toward his bedroom, wishing for once that Therese would wake up and start crying so that he could escape. But no, the minute Therese wakes up, Peaches will surely come trotting out of the bedroom to alert Bitty, crying or no.
“I’m a father, Lardo. I can’t just run around kissing boys who don’t even know themselves what they want from me.”
“He wants to be with you.”
“Then why couldn’t he just say that? Lardo, I know that Jack’s sexuality is the worst-kept secret in the NHL, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still a secret.”
Lardo sighs and sits down next to him. She puts a hand on Bitty’s shoulder and squeezes gently. “You love him, Bits.”
Bitty slumps forward and buries his face in his hands. “I know. And God, I don’t want to lose him.”
Lardo hums thoughtfully and rubs her hand in circles on his back. “You need to call him.”
Bitty sighs and sits up, wiping the few stray tears that escaped from his eyes. He looks at Lardo, then at the new oven sitting pristine in the kitchen, then back at her. “He loves me too, doesn’t he?”
Lardo sighs and nods slowly. “Yes. So much, Bitty. He loves you so much,” she breathes out with a slight laugh. “It’s honestly starting to get ridiculous. He talks about you to Shitty pretty much constantly. And he adores Therese more than anything in the world.”
“It scares me,” Bitty admits, “it scares me to have someone love me so much. Because what if he stops?”
“He’s not Trevor.”
“No, he’s better.”
Lardo sighs and tucks her legs up by her chest, resting her chin on her knees with her arms wrapped around her shins. “I think we’re both a little too used to people leaving us, Bits. Gotta break out of that rhythm.”
“It’s easier for you,” Bitty grumbles under his breath.
“That may very well be true, but that doesn’t mean everyone’s going to walk away, Bits.” Lardo reaches out and combs her fingers through Bitty’s hair. “People love you. Jack loves you. You can’t just not give it a chance.”
“He means so much to me. I can’t lose him,” Bitty whispers. “I can’t bear the thought of losing him for one minute.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but walking away? Made it a whole lot harder to keep him.”
-
“Hey, Bits-er, would you prefer if I called you Eric now?-I guess I missed you. Which makes sense because it’s four in the morning and I know you don’t usually wake up for another half hour unless it’s Sunday. And, well, it’s Monday.
“I’m just calling to say…I’m sorry. I’m sorry I sort of ambushed you with a kiss without asking first. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you had to run away. But I meant it when I kissed you, and I want you to know that.
“You’re amazing and charming and too good for me, but I had to try. I had to take a chance because I deserve to be happy. At least, that’s what my therapist and Shitty have been telling me. And I think I believe it.
“Call me back, if you want to. I want to talk to you, even if it’s to tell me that you don’t want me. You’re one of my best friends, Eric.”
-
“Hey, Jack. I don’t know if you’re in practice or not…you probably are, so I’m sorry I missed you. But I wanted to say that I want to see you. Call me back. Oh, and you can still call me Bitty.”
-
“Bits, I’m sorry I missed you again. It’s just been insane lately. It’s like everyone in the league is out to get us. Or at least, that’s what it feels like during some of those games.
“But, euh, that doesn’t really matter to me right now, if that makes sense? Like, of course it matters, but I just wanna talk to you. I want to see you. I miss you, Bits. And I still meant that kiss.”
-
“Jack, I think I’ve been avoiding the fact that I kissed you back. I meant it too. Call me back?”
-
“I want to kiss you again, Bits.”
-
“Oh lord, I’m so sorry I keep missing you, it’s just that Therese has been sick lately and she’s better now, thank God, but it’s been absolutely insane.
“The bakery really seems to be getting more and more popular every day which is great! But I’m exhausted. I think I’m going to need to bring in some more hands soon. I miss you, Jack. Call me. I’ll try to pick up.”
-
Jack stares at his phone as though it’s personally offended him. Doesn’t the universe know that he needs to be able to pick up when Bitty calls? Does no one care that this phone message is both the best and worst thing to ever happen to him?
Bitty still wants to talk to him. Jack didn’t completely ruin everything. Jack might still have a chance, if he lets himself hope for something as good as that.
He thinks he has a chance, is the thing. At first, when Bitty ran away, he thought that all his hopes were dashed, but then he thought about the way Bitty acts around him. He can’t be wrong about this.
Everyone tells him he’s not wrong about this. Bitty has feelings for him. He’s almost certain of this.
Lardo told Jack that Bitty’s scared, that he’s not sure if he should be getting into a relationship, considering his being a single parent. Jack just has to figure out how to show Bitty that he wants that, that he wants Therese and the insane bakery hours and all of it.
Jack has to show bitty that he’s in this for the long haul.
In the words of one B. Shitty Knight, “You gotta woo that cute motherfucker.” Which really was Jack’s intention when buying him a new oven, but apparently he hasn’t made himself clear enough.
After about fifteen minutes of googling “how to tell him I love him without ambushing him with a kiss,” Jack decides to actually pick up the phone and talk to someone who knows Bitty.
“Jack?”
Jack sighs and runs a hand over his face. This is stupid. This is so stupid. “Hey, Lards. Do you happen to know Bitty’s favorite flower? Like, the plant, not the baking ingredient.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Lardo says with a sigh. “and I don’t know. Maybe peonies? He had a weird obsession with Blair Waldorf for a while, so I know he likes those. And magnolias, he used to have those outside of his house in Georgia.”
“Blair Waldorf? What’s that?”
“Oh my God, if you want to date Bitty you at the very least need to catch up to 2013.”
Jack frowns at his phone. “Lardo, it’s 2019.”
“I know.”
Jack groans and resists the urge to smack his head on the table in front of him. He’s not that much of an old man. “So, magnolias?”
-
“Jack, it’s Bitty. I’m not mad or anything, so don’t worry, but what in the hell is this? I opened my door this morning to find a poor boy who couldn’t be older than sixteen holding a truly ungodly amount of magnolias.
“And they’re beautiful, they really are, but honestly? It’s a bit much, Jack. I love them, but maybe next time attach a note? Not to say that I expect more flowers from you, but if you do…don’t make me call Lardo to figure it out?”
-
Bitty stares at the rather large arrangement of Magnolias on his kitchen table. It’s completely impractical for his apartment, takes up too much space in his already cramped kitchen, and honestly he has no use for this many flowers.
Still, they are gorgeous, and they smell fantastic, and Jack sent them to him. Bitty’s favorite flowers, which he’s never asked about, so he must have asked Lardo. And really, the thought of Jack calling up Lardo purely to ask about Bitty’s favorite flowers?
Well, it’s more than a bit romantic, isn’t it? Bitty brushes his fingers along the soft petals of one of the flowers and absolutely does not sigh dreamily to himself.
He cannot deny the smile that forces its way across his face, though.
Three days later, the same smile appears when a box arrives at his doorstep with the note “some flours, to go with your flowers :) –Jack” and inside are several bags of different flours.
Bitty does not clutch his chest like some fainting southern belle.
If only he could get Jack alone in a room to actually talk about what’s happening here. But Jack’s across the country on a long stretch of games in the west and the one time he stopped in the bakery before that, it was awkward and stilted and Bitty absolutely hates himself for running away that night.
Still, several awkward phone messages later, it seems like maybe things are coming together finally.
A box of chocolates arrives two days after the flour. Expensive chocolates, from some shop in Banff.
A giant stuffed moose a week after that. (Therese’s personal favorite, even though it is bigger than she is.)
Two more floral arrangements (peonies and roses for the first, tulips for the second,) a box of macarons from France, and a Zimmermann jersey later, Bitty’s home is starting to fill up with Jack Zimmermann. And it’s getting out of hand because they haven’t talked about this.
-
“Jack, sweetheart, I know that you’re trying to ‘woo me’ or whatever terminology it is that Shitty used, but maybe you could slow down on the gifts until you get back? It’s only a few days and I’d really like to see you. Therese, too. She now can’t sleep without that monstrosity of a stuffed animal next to her.
“I love the gifts, but I’d like to see you even more. Call me back?”
-
Jack listens to the message a few (dozen) times and he can’t keep the grin off his face. Over the course of two weeks, Jack has managed to get Bitty from sounding annoyed and a bit put out on the phone, to actually warm and inviting, like he genuinely wants to talk to Jack.
Like he wants to see Jack.
Like he maybe wants to kiss Jack again.
Jack smiles to himself, staring at his lap to attempt to hide it, but if by the way Tater sidles up to him is any way of telling, he’s not succeeding in the slightest.
“Zimmboni very happy?”
Jack can’t hold it back anymore. “I’m in love with Eric.”
Tater nods seriously. “I am happy to be hearing this. After all, you two are very nice couple. Very beautiful. Make good parents to little baby.”
Jack frowns and shakes his head, “No we’re not together.”
“But you have picture of baby as phone screen?”
“Yes, but-“
“And you are loving him?”
Jack nods. “Yes, so much, but we’re not together yet.”
Tater frowns and takes Jack’s phone from his hand. “Why you not call him? Ask him on date? We will be in Providence tomorrow, must act now!”
Of course, Jack is sure that if he calls Bitty right now, something will get in the way of him actually speaking to the man in question, and he’ll simply end up leaving yet another painfully awkward voicemail for him to suffer through, but Tater is smiling hopefully and waving the phone in Jack’s face.
He groans and snatches the device away, walking off to have some semblance of privacy in this. He takes a moment to glare at the little (6) next to Bitty’s name in his recents list, colored red to remind him that he can’t seem to catch the baker, no matter how hard he might try.
“Jack? Oh my lord, I just got out of the shower and the phone rang. Just about gave me a heart attack.”
Jack nearly drops his phone at the sound of the other man on the other end of the line. “Bitty? Wow, I was not expecting you to pick up.”
Bitty laughs, full and rich in that way that makes Jack’s stomach flip. “I don’t blame you, sweetheart. We just can’t seem to catch each other lately, huh?”
Jack does not mention how it’s been slowly destroying his life. “Haha, yeah.”
“I’m glad you caught me, though, because I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, well, you know.” Jack can practically hear his blush.
“Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?” he blurts out because Jack has never been accused of being tactful or smart when it comes to emotions. “Câlisse, sorry that was not…romantic.”
Bitty laughs again, and Jack’s stomach is sent into a gymnastics routine. Is he laughing at Jack good naturedly, like he always does? Or is this a meaner side of Bitty that thinks Jack must be an idiot for thinking he has a shot?
“Of course, dear. Pick me up at eight?”
“Really? Sweet.”
Once Jack gets off the phone, he turns back around to re-enter the locker room, to find Tater standing behind the door with a grin on his face. “No need to thank, Zimmboni. Have boyfriend send pie. Two pies.”
-
Bitty holds Therese to his chest and squeals. She looks up at him, clearly confused as to why Daddy is making weird noises, but giggles and pats his face after a few seconds. Bitty can’t hold back the nearly manic sounding giggles that escape him.
He’s going on a date with Jack Zimmermann. They’re going to talk about their relationship.
Bitty might get to kiss him again, and redo what he did before. The arrangements of flowers sitting ostentatiously around his apartment scream that he will get that chance.
“Oh, Therese, your Daddy is such a stupid man. He was kissed by the boy he loves and he ran away,” Bitty says very seriously to the baby, who is listening raptly while she blows bubbles with her spit. “But now Daddy gets to try again! And he gets to talk about things! And it’s going to be great!” Bitty cheers and spins her around to get the happy response that he wants.
He’d like to think that it’s because Therese loves Jack so much.
They really do have so much to talk about, with Jack’s career and Bitty’s absolutely insane life, but unlike the night when Jack suddenly kissed him, Bitty is ready for it. It won’t be easy, nothing is ever easy in his life anymore, but maybe it’ll be worth it.
-
Jack’s teammates have long made fun of his habit of waking up well before dawn to run while nobody else is out. They tease that he is willing to do this every day of his life. They don’t understand it, but, in a world where Jack is only focused on hockey, Jack does. This is the way to work harder, move faster, score more.
This is the way to be better.
It’s late March when Jack turns left instead of right on his usual morning jogging path. The left turn takes him through the park, where he’s able to snap some pictures of geese while he downs half of a Gatorade. But more importantly, it takes him right past Pied and Joy, and right past the cute blond inside, shaking his hips to a beat Jack can’t hear. He pauses for a moment-almost compulsively-to check the hours of the shop and frowns to himself when he sees that it won’t open until midway through morning skate, well after his run.
It’s the first time in years that Jack has considered changing his schedule.
Still, Jack does not change, and every morning after that, he passes the bakery and every morning he sees the baker inside prepping his work, occasionally with either a ginger guy who looks just a bit younger than the baker himself, or an Asian girl who looks like she’s exactly Shitty’s type.
And every morning Jack thinks about how much he wants to go in.
He thinks about how warm it probably is in there, especially when compared to the briskness of Providence March. What the baker’s voice probably sounds like. What those pastries that always look so perfect probably taste like.
Jack wants nothing more than to go in there, but he never lets himself change from what he’s been doing for ages.
But one morning, after the brutal end to their playoff hopes, just after the bakery opens, Jack does. And when he hears the honey-sweet voice of the baker, and has a baby practically shoved in his arms…Jack knows he wants to stay.
-
His shirt is blue. His pants are ironed. Both are laid out on his bed. His hair looks like he didn’t just take off a helmet, for once. Jack is ready for this.
He’s got a bouquet for Bitty, and he’s more than a little bit excited to hear the way Bitty will say “Jack,” and sigh like he’s annoyed, but will smile and thank Jack all the same. Jack is excited to hold Bitty’s hand, to kiss him on the cheek, to kiss his lips again.
Jack is ready for this. He is. He’s not going to mess up this time and act without talking about it first. No, this time, Jack is going to communicate and he’s going to have Bitty and everything is going to be great.
By the end of the night, Jack is determined to be with Eric Bittle. In a relationship. One that they’ve talked about. He can do this.
He’s really glad Shitty isn’t here to chirp him for giving himself a pep talk before getting ready for a date.
His phone rings and Jack snatches it up as soon as the screen flashes with Bitty’s name. “Hey, Bits, what’s up?” He really does attempt to sound casual, like he’s not freaking out.
“Uh, Jack, I’m afraid we might have to postpone tonight.” Bitty sounds slightly choked up and uncertain.
“What? Bits, what’s wrong?” Jack frowns. Something’s definitely not right here.
“It’s Therese. She’s got a high fever and-and I need to take her to the doctor.” Eric hiccups slightly, and Jack hears the sound of Therese crying in the background.
“Bitty, Lardo took your car to Boston today,” Jack says suddenly. “How are you getting to the doctor?”
Bitty sniffles slightly and clears his throat. He’s still trying to act like he’s not crying, but Jack can tell, even through the phone. “Yeah, I called her, and she’s going to be back as soon as possible so she can take us. I’m sorry, Jack.”
“I’m on my way,” Jack says finally, shoving tennis shoes on his feet and looking around for where he put his keys. He finds them finally and shoves them into the pocket of his basketball shorts.
“What? Jack, what are you talking about?”
“I can take you to the doctor. Honestly, I can hear T crying and it sounds pretty urgent,” Jack says as he grabs the flowers on impulse and heads out the door. “I’m on my way.”
Bitty sighs raggedly and chuckles in spite of himself. ”Jack Zimmermann, you are absolutely too much.”
-
Being in the emergency room for yourself is scary. Jack knows this. He’s seen the inside of enough hospitals to know this fact well.
But being there for a baby, being there for Therese? Is so much worse. Jack holds Therese while Bitty fills out paperwork, and watches the way the younger man grips the pen tightly to hide the shaking of his hands. Jack shifts Therese in his arms so that he can place a hand on Bitty’s shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.”
When Jack had showed up at Bitty’s, Bitty had had a damp washcloth on Therese’s head and was shushing her, trying to get her to quiet down. He’d taken one look at Jack, wearing basketball shorts and a ratty t shirt, holding flowers, and he’d been speechless and his face had gone bright red..
Now, with Therese almost eerily quiet, but still so so warm, Bitty frowns at Jack. “I just feel so stupid. She wasn’t acting like herself all day and I didn’t notice. I was so busy and I was distracted because…” Bitty pauses for a moment, face coloring again, “Well, because of you, that I didn’t stop moving for one moment to check on her.”
“You can’t blame yourself like that, Bits.”
“It’s just that, well, I’m doing this alone. I know I have Lardo to help, but in the end it’s just me and I’m only twenty four and sometimes I just get so overwhelmed and it’s not good! Look at what’s happening right now! If I had just noticed earlier today, I could have taken her to her pediatrician rather than the emergency room, but it’s just so much, Jack. It’s too much,” Bitty says all in one breath, tears threatening to spill over as he finishes.
Jack’s heart rabbits in his chest, he holds Therese tighter to his chest, and it comes out before he can stop it. “I love you.”
“Jack, what-“
“I know this is a horrible time, I know that it’s probably not what you need to hear right now, but it’s true. Bits, I love you so much. I love Therese so much. All I want to do every moment of the day is make your life better. Make it easier.”
Bitty has a hand covering his mouth at this point, and a tear slipping down his cheek. “Oh, Jack,” he breathes out, “I don’t know what to say.”
Jack slides his hand from Bitty’s shoulder down to grasp at his fingers. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me be here for you. Let me help.”
Bitty nods, hand still covering his mouth, and doesn’t move his other hand away from Jack’s. A nurse walks into the waiting room, clipboard in hand.
“Eric and Therese Bittle?”
-
The pediatrician on duty sends them home with orders to give Therese baby Motrin every eight hours and see if her fever has gone down in the morning, but to see their own pediatrician at some point this week. Bitty and Jack hardly talk the entire time, both too worried about Therese to talk about their brief conversation in the waiting room.
Jack doesn’t know what to do once they get back to Bitty’s, so he sits on a chair at the kitchen table and watches as Bitty gives Therese her dinner and sighs in relief when she yawns about twenty minutes later, after drinking nearly her entire bottle.
He takes her to bed and comes back into the kitchen, looking entirely worse for wear as he sits across from Jack at the table. “I didn’t plan on this night going like this.”
Jack lifts the corner of his mouth into the facsimile of a smile. “It’s okay. Not your fault.”
“I really wanted our date to go well, to be perfect.”
Jack reaches across the table to pull Bitty’s folded hands toward him. “Eric, I don’t care that we didn’t get to go to a fancy restaurant and be awkward for ten minutes before finally having a good time. I just wanted to see you.”
“I know,” Bitty says with a nod, “it just feels like we’re taking a huge leap here, and tonight was all wrong to do that.”
“Was it?”
“Huh?”
Jack sighs and runs one of his hands through his hair, quickly returning it to Bitty. “Was it really all wrong? Bits, we’ve been friends for months, and I care about Therese so much. I don’t just want to be some guy you go on dates with, I want to be part of your life. And I know that we’re probably skipping a few steps, but I think it could work. Don’t you?”
Bitty smiles and stands to lean forward and press his lips against Jack’s. It’s an awkward angle, with a table between them, digging into Bitty’s hips, but awkward and messy doesn’t mean bad, Bitty is slowly learning.
He thinks it’s absolutely better than their first kiss.
This time, Bitty knows. “Let’s do this, Jack Zimmermann.”
