Page 142 of Wild Card 13

“You came voluntarily,” Marion reminded Kendrick.

“Under protest.”

“You left work early.”

“The customer’s furnace was fixed.”

Fraser did not look away from the ice. “Eventually.”

Kendrick’s mouth twitched. “Come on, Dad. We were outta there in record time. Got here in time for your lucky seats, didn’t we?”

Ruth handed him a foil-wrapped oatmeal bar over the back of her seat without looking. “Eat something and stop acting neglected.”

That was the Burns family in its purest form. Complaint. Correction. Food.

Nobody said anything affectionate, yet somehow affection occupied every inch of the space between them.

Arlo twisted around from the row directly in front of us. He sat between two friends from school, already holding nachos and a soft pretzel. “Took you long enough.”

“You have cheese on your sleeve,” I teased my brother.

He glanced down. “That happened fast.”

One of his friends lifted a hand in greeting. The other shouted something toward the Eden Prairie student section that hurriedly earned him a warning look from an usher.

Arlo pointed his pretzel toward the back row. “Thane scared two people out of our section.”

“I did not,” Thane hollered back quickly.

“They asked if the seats were taken and you looked at them.”

Thane’s expression did not change. “They were taken.”

Naomi leaned closer to me. “Your future family is deeply alarming.”

My heart caught on the word future. She had said it lightly. Almost carelessly. But when I looked around the rows of Burnses surrounding me, the idea did not feel careless at all.

It felt obvious.

Ruth had covered my knees with the same blanket she had probably used at Ty’s games since he was eight. Marion was pouring coffee into the thermos lid and passing it toward me before filling her own. Kendrick was complaining because that was how Kendrick participated in joy. Hal had already written the date across the top of his roster and drawn three precise columns beside Northbend’s lineup to record shots by period.

Fraser had chosen the back row because he would stand through the entire third period and refused to block anyone else’s view.

Thane had traveled between professional games to be here.

Ty’s entire family, spanning three generations, had shown up.

Not halfway. Not when it became convenient. Completely.

I could see myself sitting inside this noise years from now.Different arena. Different version of Ty. Ruth still carrying food nobody had requested. Marion still remembering how everyone took their coffee. Kendrick finding new reasons to complain while fixing whatever went wrong before anyone else noticed.

I could see Christmas mornings and summer cookouts and long drives to wherever hockey took Ty next.

The thought should have frightened me. Instead, it felt like stepping into a room I had not realized I was looking for.

Marion handed me the coffee. “How are your folks, sweetheart?”

The warmth inside me vanished so quickly I nearly dropped the cup. “Fine,” I answered.