The Langfield Brothers: Box Set

50. Aiden

FIFTY

AIDEN

Beckett: Are you sure you don’t want me to force Man Bun to watch the kids? He’s good with babies.

Brooks: We’ll be fine.

Gavin: It’s only a few hours. And there are four of them.

Beckett: And I have five kids.

Gavin: If you can handle them, I’m pretty sure Brooks, Sara, and Lennox have this covered.

Me: Hey! I’m in this chat.

Gavin: Just making sure. You’re awfully quiet over there.

Across from me, Robert clears his throat. “Am I keeping you from something important?”

I pocket my phone, trying to ignore the instant FOMO. When I walk out of this appointment, they will have had an entire conversation without me. And I’ll have had an entire conversation with my therapist.

This morning, I woke up and felt nothing again. After spending a night laughing over Bridget Jones and sinking inside my gorgeous fiancée, I felt morose and tired, and I didn’t want to get out of bed.

The one woman I’ve wanted my whole life gave me everything last night—her heart, her body, and her future—and still it was a struggle to get up. And at practice, I was basically useless.

I didn’t want to be there. I never don’t want to be there. Hockey has always been the one thing that settles my mind, but today, even shuffling forward on the ice took effort. My brother practically ripped my head off and told me that if I acted sluggish like this again, he’d enact a curfew.

I should have felt embarrassed. Angry, even. Instead, I felt a whole lot of nothing.

So I called my therapist and told him I needed to see him. And here we are.

“Sorry. Just my brother confirming that I can babysit tonight.”

He crosses his leg and nods. “I take it you enjoy babysitting?”

I smile, thankfully feeling better than I did this morning. “Why do you say it that way?”

“Your face lit up when you mentioned it.”

I am an open book like that. But what can I say? I like what I like. My family. Lennox. Hockey. For the most part, I’m a simple man.

“My brother’s kids are awesome,” I say. “My fiancée and I are watching them with Brooks and his fiancée. The girls are best friends, so it makes it even better.”

Robert’s smile is warm. “Things are going well?”

The question is a simple one, but it makes my heart race, nonetheless. Like it’s a trick. Robert has told me time and again that there are no trick questions. But I find that hard to believe. The man’s job is to dig around in my head, to probe for things he believes I’m hiding.

And though he’s not wrong, because I’m constantly trying to put on a facade, pretend life is great when I’m outside this office, I’m truly not hiding anything right now.

“Things are good.” And because I just promised myself that I would be honest, I add, “I’ve told Lennox about my struggles with depression, and when it gets to be too much, she understands what I need.”

Robert’s brows rise. “And what’s that?”

“To sit in the dark. Silence. You know, the usual.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. It irks me. Once again, it feels like he’s trying to figure me out like I’m a puzzle, rather than just listening to my words.

“How often do you have these episodes?”

I grip my thigh, relishing the bite of pain. “They aren’t episodes.”

He’s labeled them as such in the past, but he’s got it wrong. I just overdo it sometimes. I’m too loud, and I use too much energy. He thinks I’m like the rest of his patients, but he isn’t with me day in and day out. His other patients haven’t been blessed the way I have. They probably have good reason to be depressed. Me? I’m just in my head.

“I just need the quiet sometimes. Especially after an exciting day. After having to be ‘on’ so much.”

I just need him to help me figure out how to avoid falling into the dark moments during hockey season. I have a job to do, and if I don’t do it, my brother will have no choice but to replace me.

Across from me, Robert pulls his glasses from his face, cleans them with a cloth he pulls out of a drawer, then sets them on the desk between us. “Aiden, you have depressive episodes. Depression is an illness, but it’s not like cancer or the common cold. We don’t treat it with the expectation that it will be eradicated. We find ways to deal with it. Coping mechanisms so that we can handle the episodes when they occur. But as I’ve told you before, one of the first and most important steps is to recognize the illness for what it is.”

My throat goes tight, making it hard to breathe. “I know what it is.” I slide my hands up and down my legs, willing myself to remain calm. “What I’m trying to say is that Lennox knows as well, and she doesn’t mind.”

He nods. “I’m glad you found someone who loves you and makes you happy. Genuinely. But if you are having more episodes, then maybe we should discuss medication?—”

I shake my head before he can finish his sentence. “I don’t want that.”

“I know you don’t want that. But if things are escalating?—”

“I’ve got it handled.”

That may not be totally accurate, but if I have to choose between medication and figuring it out myself, I’ll figure it out myself.

I’ll stick with my routines. Do the things that make me happy. If I can keep from fucking it all up, I can maintain all the good things in my life. My career. Lennox. My family.

But if I have to go on meds, I’d have to tell the team doctor and Gavin. He’s my coach. What would he think if he knew that his star center needs fucking medication to smile? Would he trust me to do my job?

It’s absurd. I’ve got everything. There’s absolutely no reason I should feel this way, so I’ll keep it under control.

“Hello, Langfields. Your favorite uncle is here!” I yell as I open the door to my brother’s brownstone. Immediately, a baby cries and the dog howls.

Brooks barrels past me. “Nice job, favorite uncle. I call dibs on the older ones.”

Sara giggles as she passes me, her blue ponytail swishing back and forth. “I promised Addie we’d have a tea party, so you boys are on baby duty. Come on, Len. Let’s find the girls.”

When Beckett appears on the stairs with a screaming baby in his arms and a glare on his face, I wince.

“June Bug, you can scream in your uncle Aiden’s ear, since he’s the one who woke you up.”

Fortunately, his wife—my favorite sister-in-law at the moment—follows behind him with a quieter baby. “Beckett, you will not hand off our daughter until she’s back to her happy self.”

Beckett sighs down at the miserable baby. “It’s gonna be a while.”

At the top of the stairs, Winnie walks past the steps and heads down the hall without even a hello. Ouch.

“Tough crowd,” I grumble as I hold out my hands for the screaming baby.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Beckett asks, pulling June into his chest.

Brooks has already disappeared with Finn, so it’s just Beckett, Liv, the twins, and me.

I so don’t have this, but I’ll never admit it. Friday nights have always been date nights for Beckett and Liv, and I’ve done plenty of babysitting, but since the twins were born, they’ve had nights in. My brother has been chomping at the bit to take his wife out again, and I refuse to disappoint them. Especially because Liv’s birthday is this weekend. Knowing my brother, he’s got some big thing planned. When it comes to Liv, he spares no expense.

Liv settles Maggie Mae in a walker—it’s terrifying to think that another one of Beckett’s kids is close to walking—and Beckett finally hands June over. After they’re gone, I glance down at her and smile. “Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into, kid.”

Lex and Sara reappear with Addie, swinging the five-year-old between them from step to step. She giggles the entire way down, and once they hit the ground level, she darts at me. The little ball of energy has really come into her own personality. She’s got two pigtails, though one is lopsided.

“Let me guess. Auntie Sara did your hair?”

Addie shakes her head and rolls back and forth on her heels, which leaves her belly peeking out of her T-shirt. “I did its myself,” she says proudly.

I pull on one side, evening it out a bit. “Perfect, little one. You did a great job.”

“You want to join us for a tea party?” Lex asks, holding up two pink plastic teacups.

Beside her, Sara is holding the coordinating purple cups.

I glance up the stairs, hoping Winnie will appear. She’s eleven and may be a little too old for tea parties, but with all of us here, I’m surprised she hasn’t even come to say hi. “Winnie coming down?”

Sara shrugs. “She said she was tired.”

Tired? It’s seven on a Friday night. Sure, she’s allowed to be tired, but still…

My stomach knots with concern. It’s not like her to hide away like this.

“You mind?” I say to Lex, who’s already reaching for the baby in my arms.

When my niece settles against her with her head on her chest, a warmth like I’ve never experienced rolls through me.

“You’re beautiful,” I say, sliding her pink hair behind her shoulder and then pressing my lips to her forehead.

“Oh my god, could you guys get any cuter?” Sara lifts Addie in her arms and spins her in a circle, as if she’s spreading the joy through the room.

I march up the stairs, hoping some of her joy makes the journey with me. I have a feeling Winnie needs a little extra today.

Pictures line the hallway upstairs. I rarely come up here, so I take a moment to look through them. In one photo, Beckett and Finn are wearing Boston Revs jerseys and standing on the field. Finn is missing his two front teeth, but the damn smile on his face has one tugging on my lips.

The one beside it is of Liv, Winnie, Addie, and Finn. It looks like before she even married Beckett. Back before they found themselves married in Vegas and he moved into the house with her and her friends and their kids. Finn was only four, Addie two, and Winnie was eight.

Back then, Winnie was quiet. But that all changed the day Beckett set a container filled with beads on the table and asked if she could help us make friendship bracelets for a fundraiser. That afternoon, as we made bracelet after bracelet, Winnie opened up to her stepdad’s brothers. I’m sure we were intimidating. Brooks is a massive hockey goalie, and Gavin was in his broody phase, since he and Millie were on different continents. But Winnie bonded with all of us as she taught us how to make bracelets.

Rather than going straight to Winnie’s room, I pop into the playroom at the end of the hall where Liv keeps the bracelet- making kit. We break it out often. I find it kind of relaxing stringing the beads together, and I like to add ridiculous sayings to them and give them to the guys on the team.

The closet in the playroom is stuffed with toys. The sight of it makes me grin. I can only imagine how badly this annoys my brother. He likes things so orderly, and yet he moved into a house filled with chaos because living without Liv was never an option.

I suppose the four of us brothers are all the same. Utterly obsessed with the women in our lives. Only happy when they’re happy.

And right about now, it’s clear that Winnie is not happy. That means I have work to do. I spot the beads and string up at the top and pull the container down carefully. I have no intention of spilling all these beads—the stress of worrying that the twins could choke would eat me alive.

Then I head to the tween’s door. There’s a pretty drawing on the outside with her name on it. It’s flowery and colorful, and if I had to guess, I’d say she drew it. Rapping my knuckles against the door, I call for her, knowing better than to just walk in. “Hey, Bear.”

“I’m fine,” she calls from the other side.

“I need your help. Any chance you have a minute? I know you’re a busy girl.”

The snort she lets out makes me smile.

“I suppose I can make time for you,” she says drolly as she peeks out into the hall. When she spots the goods in my hand, she eyes me. “Bringing in the big guns?”

I shrug as I enter. The way her room is shrouded in darkness sends tingles down my back. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

Head lowered, she settles down on her canopy bed. Her room is oversized, with pops of color everywhere. Purple comforter, teal walls, light pink furniture—Beckett surprised Liv with the house, but he brought Winnie with him for furniture shopping.

In the corner is a desk littered with art supplies and books.

The room is every girl’s dream, and yet the feeling inside it is morose. The lights off, the curtains closed, her face blank.

“Wanna help me make a bracelet?”

“Sure.” Winnie nods at the mattress beside her.

Obediently, I set down the supplies and sit opposite her. Without looking up, she opens the bin and grabs beads in several shades of pink. She settles them on the comforter, then selects a pink string. “What do you want it to say?”

Tongue in my cheek, I try to hide my grin. “Why’d you pick those colors?”

She rolls her eyes. “Please, Uncle Aiden, this is obviously for Lennox.”

“I’ll go with Princess.”

She sighs like she’s disappointed in my choice, and I try not to take offense. It is an awful nickname, but I didn’t pick it. I just stole it from her father. Silently, Winnie digs through the compartment filled with lettered beads, so I take the opportunity to chat with her.

“So what’s new?”

“It’s fine, Uncle Aiden. We don’t have to talk. I’ll make the bracelet for you.”

My heart sinks at her sullen tone and her brush-off. She’s always been happy to have silly conversations with me. “But what if I want to talk?”

Her focus remains on the beads, her fingers still rooting around for the correct letters. “You can talk,” she says with an exaggerated sigh.

Pushing away the unease, I ask, “You been working on any new drawings?”

This sigh is more forceful, but it’s the only reply I get.

Maybe I’m being overly sensitive, but she’s definitely off. And maybe that’s why I find myself wanting to open up to her. “Sometimes I find it hard to do the things I love.”

Winnie peers up at me. “Huh?”

“Hockey, singing.” I twist my lips. “Smiling. Sometimes it’s hard to do it, even though I love it. Ya know?”

She shrugs, back to sorting beads for a moment. But then she bites her lip and glances at me. “You always seem so happy.” She picks up a bead and slides it onto the bracelet.

I follow suit, grabbing a string of my own. It’s easier to talk when I’m doing this. It’s an odd form of therapy, but I guess we do what works. “Sometimes it’s easier to fake it than to talk.”

Her response is another heavy breath.

“I can imagine this house can get pretty loud and busy.”

Winnie’s watching me now, her stare weighted. Like she thinks I’m an idiot. Probably because it’s obvious that a household of seven would be loud.

Maybe I am an idiot. But I continue anyway. I feel like she needs to hear this. “When things get loud for me, I like to sit in the dark. My therapist thinks that if I do that too much, it may mean I may need something more.” I swallow, leaving it at that rather than mentioning antidepressants. I’m not ready to deal with that yet.

With a hum, she continues stringing the beads. I follow suit, working hard to remain silent. She lets out a heavy sigh as she ties off her bracelet and hands it to me.

I smile down at the word princess on the pink bracelet. Mine says wifey . I’m already imagining my girl’s likely reaction—it’ll be epic. I snap the lid of the bead kit closed, taking the hint that I’m being dismissed, but before I can hop up, Winnie’s tiny hand grips mine.

“Would you maybe?—”

She hesitates, so I settle my other hand over hers and squeeze. “Anything, Win. I’ll do anything you ask.”

Brown eyes blink up at me, going misty, and her look of apathy morphs into sadness. Her voice hitches as she rasps, “Sit with me? For a little longer?”

Hours later, I’m lying in the dark with my girl, my mind still a jumbled mess. Winnie and I finally left her room when the pizza was delivered. She shyly asked me if she could give Lennox the bracelet—and I lit up when Lennox’s surprised squeal at the gift made Winnie smile.

For the rest of the night, she seemed more present, happier. I hope it wasn’t all an act. That she wasn’t hiding beneath a mask. That I’d given her enough peace to get her through the night. Though I’m struggling with how to move forward. Would it be wrong to talk to Liv and Beckett about my suspicions? Would it be wrong not to?

Depression is hard enough for me as an adult. I can’t imagine having to navigate it as a kid. In some way, though, I suppose I always did. I just didn’t have the tools to understand the way the pendulum of my moods swung.

Out of my depth, I turn to Lennox and pour it all out. “I just wish I could help her,” I say quietly after sharing my thoughts.

Lennox plays with the bracelets on her wrist. “I think you did.”

My heart aches as I study her, looking for the lie, the placation. I certainly don’t feel like I did much of anything.

Lennox cups my chin. “Sometimes people just need to know that they’re not alone. That what they’re going through is normal.”

My skin itches at that word. Normal. What even is normal? Whatever it is, I know I’m not it. But I do want Winnie to know that she’s not alone.

“It’s not normal, Lex. That’s why it’s called a disorder.”

She frowns. “You’d be surprised. A lot of people suffer from depression. You’re not abnormal, Aiden. You’re just in tune enough with your emotions to seek help. And now, because of you, Winnie will be too.”

She curls her body into me and relaxes. Within minutes, she’s asleep, but I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, replaying her words long into the night.