Page 296 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

"I realized one day..."

"...that he makes people feel safe."

The room is completely quiet.

She squeezes my hand. "And once I understood that..."

She laughs a little. "I don't think I ever stood a chance."

Mom discreetly dabs at the corner of one eye with her napkin.

Dad nods once. "So did I."

I look at him. "What?"

He smiles. "I fell in love with your mother for exactly the same reason."

Mom reaches across the table and covers his hand with hers.

For a moment, forty years disappear from their faces. They're simply a man and a woman still in love.

Annette notices it too, I can tell. Because she smiles the same quiet smile I've come to recognize.

The one that says, that's what I want.

And suddenly...

I know something with absolute certainty. She isn't just imagining a future with me anymore.

She's imagining this. Sunday dinners. Bad jokes. Too many dinner rolls. Parents who hug too long.

And home where love isn't spoken once, it's lived every single day.

As Mom begins clearing plates, she waves Annette back into her chair.

"Absolutely not."

"I can help."

"No."

"But.”

"You're our guest."

I grin. "Don't argue."

"You don't argue with your mother?"

I laugh. "I enjoy living."

Dad stands, collecting dishes. "I've tried arguing."

"And?"

He smiles. "I've been happily losing for forty years."

Mom points toward the living room. "You two go. We'll clean."