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I sat, sprinkling flour over my hands. I was used to the recipe. I could have made it in my sleep.
“So, tell me about school. How was the game in Portland?”
Mom never came to away games. She worked too many damn hours cleaning to have time to travel. She always came to the home games, though. One day, I’d fly her to every NHL game she wanted to see, and I’d play my fucking heart out to make her proud. One day.
I filled her in on the game, and we talked about everything and nothing for a while, until she found an opportunity to steer the conversation in a certain direction.
“I heard that there’s something going on with you and a girl,” Mom said after a moment, angling a sly look at me.
Shit. How had she found out? No doubt someone from the neighborhood had told her. Folks around here treated my college hockey career as though I was already a pro.
“Did you?” I evaded her probing.
“Asher, tell me. Is she your girlfriend?”
Was I really going to lie to my mom about Winter? It was one thing to lie to her parents and my friends. Harmless, really. But lying to my mom? That was something else entirely.
“We’re figuring it out,” I settled for saying.
“She looks high-maintenance,” Mom fretted. “Don’t be one of those boys who puts themselves in debt to keep up with their girlfriend.”
I blinked at her. That had come out of nowhere. I thought of Winter, and her birthday, and the time we’d spent together on the roof at The Dunes. She’d been so jaded by money and her parents’ gift of a new Amex. I recalled the Carrick knot sitting in her drawer in her room, my homemade gift to her. She’d kept it.
“She’s not the kind of woman who wants presents, honestly. She can buy herself whatever she needs.”
“What does she want?” Mom wondered.
“Time. Attention…someone who shows up.” Someone to see her like she really is, and not just the window dressing.
Mom raised an eyebrow at me. “Does she treat you well?”
I laughed. “Not at all. She’s a pain in the ass. The most infuriating woman I’ve ever met. A headache, a handful…” I broke off, chuckling at the image of her in her vibrating panties.
Mom was just watching me. A soft look came over her features. “You really like her, don’t you?”
I stilled, my hands covered in flour, knuckle-deep in dough. “She’s…interesting.”
“Interesting sounds like trouble.”
“Interesting is fun,” I told her. “I’ve never met anyone like her.”
She sighed. “At this rate it’ll be a double wedding. At least I know Beckett, though.” She pointed a finger at me. “Message this girl and ask her to dinner tonight.”
I shook my head. “She’ll be busy.” I couldn’t picture Winter sitting in my mother’s kitchen. I wasn’t sure I was ready for those two worlds to collide just yet.
“Ask. I want to meet this interesting girl.”
“Mama, I have a certain reputation to maintain. I can’t be asking a girl home to meet my mom yet, especially at such short notice.”
“Call her or I will. I’ll get her number from your sister.” Mom sniffed, and that was the end of the conversation.
Goddamn it. Winter, in my childhood home, humble and cramped at it was. Still, I knew I had no choice. I took out my phone and fired off a message to Winter.
My mom is going to ask you to dinner tonight. Don’t worry if you’re busy, it’s not a big deal, just say you have plans.
“You know, Winter’s father is a really big deal around town, and it got me thinking…”
I tensed as Mom’s demeanor changed. I still wasn’t sure what I’d decided about meeting my dad, but the conversation with Axel had stuck with me. Could I just forget him, or would I always wonder?
