Not a healthy family. For January birthdays, she’d send out links recommending non-toilet-related gifts.
Kiernan ripped open the box and dumped out the Styrofoam peanuts. Inside was a cream piece of paper. Kiernan stared hard at the words. His face blanched, and he didn’t move. For the first time tonight, Kiernan lost his smile.
CHAPTER 30
Uh oh. The hair on her arms rose. Piper moved over to Mikah; she raised up to his ear. “Go to him,” she whispered.
Mikah went to Kiernan’s side, had a look at the paper, and rubbed two fingers between his eyes to pinch the top of his nose. He dropped his hand on Kiernan’s shoulder.
“What is it?” Rookie asked.
It was the question they all wanted to know the answer to, but also didn’t.
“Is this a joke?” Kiernan crunched the paper in his hand, then unfolded it and turned the front toward them. “Certificate of adoption. First of December. And the clencher. Baby Boy. Twenty-six years ago.”
Silence. Piper couldn’t breathe for him.
Kiernan turned and left.
Mikah followed.
* * *
Piper hugged her jacket close to her body and headed to the arena entrance. Dahlia was up ahead, waiting outside. Piper reached her, and Dahlia handed her a plastic baggie with a thermometer inside. No, not a thermometer.
Ew.
A pregnancy stick? A positive one. Piper dangled the clear sack between two fingers and arched her eyebrows. This was a surprising way for Dahlia to tell her she’d given up on holding out. “You’re…?”
“Gosh, no.” Dahlia giggled. “You know I’m going for the long game.”
“Then why am I holding another woman’s pregnancy results?” One thousand dollars was the reason. Piper knew that and so did Dahlia, but both women also knew to pretend.
“A woman dropped it off.” Dahlia lowered her voice. “Take the results to the locker room. Let the guys know. They’ve been way too careless.”
A sick flush hit her face and faded. “Mikah?” The question felt like a betrayal of her belief that it was her alone he wanted, but she had to ask. The name scratched against her dry throat.
“No.” Dahlia’s expression and her tone softened. “You really like him.”
Piper shrugged, but the movement was jerky. She wasn’t selling her cool detachment. “I shouldn’t.”
“Aww, hon,” Dahlia gave her a hug.
Ow, pity hug for the unrequited love, one of the worst kinds of hugs in existence. The baggy crinkled between them, reminding her other women had bigger worries. Think about someone other than herself. “Does it belong to Liam’s ex, Bianca?” She had a soft spot for the nice Canadian.
“No, stop guessing.”
Like that would happen. “Kiernan? He can’t take any more big news this week.” Unless his cousin had been pranking him?
“No, no more guesses.” Dahlia swiped one hand over the other in a referee gesture. “Your face will give away the answer. The team needs the reality check.”
Possibly true. Pregnancy tests should come with every box of condoms, as a gentle reminder to read directions and use them properly and consistently. Piper went to the supply closet, gathered the supplies she needed, and strode to the conference room. She taped the plastic bag on the wall. On a posterboard in large black font, she wrote, This was dropped off here. One of you needs to make a phone call. P.S. not Kiernan or Liam. She should write Mikah’s name down too. But yeah, she was peeved enough not to. If he’d moved on, he could bear the consequences.
Piper stepped back and assessed the very public words that should have been private. Her gut tightened, this was not the way to share such news. Having no interest in seeing the fallout, she hurried from the room.
* * *
Piper’s sneakers pounded on the jogging trail in a slow, easy rhythm that allowed her and Dahlia to chat.