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“Maggie,” I whisper, but she ignores me. “You don’t need to?—”
“His mother,” she says, then hooks her arm through mine. “And this woman is the only one my son’s giving any kind of kisses to.”
Tiny Shorts turns her gaze to me, the cocky look fading into confusion. “I thought he was single.”
“Was,” Maggie says, then curls an arm around my shoulders. “Past tense. And you’re looking at his present and his future.”
I almost fall out of my chair when Tiny Shorts says, “Sorry. I don’t go for taken men.”
A sliver of my faith in humanity is restored as I give the woman a small smile and turn back around. Maggie winks at me.
Beth snorts and leans across Shannon and me to high-five Maggie. “Go, Mama Eli!”
Guilt needles its way through me. Eli’s momdoeslike me. And I adore her. But I’m also lying to her. My present and future are going to be filled with lies to her.
Every day, lying.
Clearly, something of the sick feeling in my belly shows on my face because Shannon leans close. “Hey. Stop that. Remember—this is for her too.”
“Don’t worry, dear,” Maggie says, patting my arm. “I’ll fight off any puck bunnies.”
I cough to cover my laugh.
"Do people really call them that?” Shannon asks. “Like, it’s a real thing?"
My stomach turns, thinking of the women draped over him at the bar the night of my birthday. As though sensing my discomfort, Maggie gives my hand a squeeze.
“They exist for every sport or for any public figure. Different names, of course.” She chuckles. “Personally, I thinkpuck bunniesis a particularly apt name. But”—she angles herself to make sure she catches my eye—“my Eli has always known better than to mess around with that type. He’s a romantic.”
Shannon pokes me again. “They are adorable together, right? Now, Mrs. H—explain hockey to us poor sports-illiterate people.”
A hand grabs the back of my jersey and yanks me back into my seat. “Calm down, Cujo,” Shannon says with a laugh.
I glare and shrug her off. “But did you see that? The guy hit him with his stick! That’s not okay!”
Maggie laughs. "You’ll get used to it. Though I applaud your enthusiasm, and I agree. It was a bad call.”
The buzzer sounds to end the second period, and I relax only slightly as the guys skate off the ice. The Appies are up three to nothing, but it doesn’t make me feel any less anxious. It was one thing when Eli was warming up with the team, and something totally different when the actual game started.
It’s brutal. I always thought people exaggerated when they talked about hockey fights and guys losing their teeth. So far, there have been no actual fights, but I am surprisedanyonehas their teeth with how rough it is.
Yet it’s also graceful, with intricate, precise movements. So fast I have trouble keeping my eye on the puck. It’s a surprising dichotomy to see such big men in heavy gear be so quick, so graceful.
Beautifullybrutal.
“Come on, you.” Shannon tugs on my arm, and I see our whole row is standing. “Bathroom time.”
“I don’t need to go,” I say. “I’ll stay and keep our seats warm.”
Ididneed to go earlier. But I swear, the stress of watching Eli play made whatever was in my bladder evaporate or something. Is that a thing? Probably not.
Shannon is undeterred. “Come on before it gets too crowded.”
Maggie gives me a nudge from the other side, and I finally cave as our little troop of people vacate our row. Shannon groans as we see the line for the bathroom spilling out of the room and almost to the concession stand.
“I could go for a beer and a hot dog,” I say, suddenly ravenous.
But this train of thought is derailed by Parker, appearing as though out of nowhere.
