Page 66 of Playing for Keeps

I laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Mum…”

“Don’t you ‘Mum’ me, Emma Dawson. That man has broad shoulders, manners, and a job that involves teamwork and cardio. What more could you ask for?”

Dad chuckled, wiping his glasses. “He definitely seems like a good man. Confident without showing off. You can tell he’s got his feet on the ground.”

“Exactly!” Mum said, triumphantly. “See, even your father agrees.”

I tried not to smile too much, but it was hard not to. “You’ve talked to him for five minutes.”

“Five minutes was plenty,” Mum said. “He looked at you like everything else was background noise.”

That one landed right in my chest. I dropped my gaze to my mug, smiling into it before I could stop myself.

Dad’s tone softened. “You like him, don’t you?”

I hesitated. “I do. Maybe more than I should.”

Mum’s voice turned gentler too. “Then just let yourself, love. You’ve earned it.”

I nodded, and for a moment the three of us sat in a comfortable silence – them on one side of the world, me on the other, and yet somehow the distance felt smaller.

33

MAX

I placed my hand on the small of Emma’s back as I pressed the doorbell. She had Aidan’s present tucked up against her ribs. It was wrapped in brown paper with a neat navy ribbon; the sort of wrapping that said she had actually thought about the gift rather than panic-buying it at a gas station on the way over. And apparently, she also had a surprise for Lucy.

The door swung open and a blast of kid energy hit us. “UNCLE MAX!”

Before I could say anything, Lucy launched herself at me. I scooped her up with a practised arm and spun her around once.

“Hey, Luce.” I kissed the top of her head.

She grinned, then peered over my shoulder with serious, curious eyes at the woman half hidden by my coat sleeve. “Is that her?”

“Busted,” I said, laughing. I set Lucy down and turned a little so Emma could step forward. “Lucy, this is my friend Emma. Emma, this is the most brutal book critic in Toronto.”

Emma stepped forward, smiling warmly, and bent down to Lucy’s level, holding the gift in her hands. “Hello, Lucy. I heard that you love books as much as I do.”

Lucy nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Excellent,” Emma said, handing over the present with a little flourish. “Because I’ve brought you one that I think you’ll love.”

Lucy gasped and stared at the book in her hands. “For me?”

“For you.”

The ribbon didn’t stand a chance: it was off in three moves, the paper gone a second later. The moment the cover appeared, Lucy squealed. “Mom! Mooom! I got a new book!”

From somewhere deeper in the house, Grace shouted, “Inside voice, please!”

“Inside voice!” Lucy yelled back at exactly the same volume, then threw her arms around Emma’s neck with zero hesitation. Emma’s laugh was soft and surprised as she hugged back right away. Something in my chest did that stupid, painful squeeze it had been doing every time Emma did anything remotely sweet, which was a lot.

I leaned in and kissed her temple. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

Her eyes darted up to me, amused. “For providing literature?”

“For using literature as a way to win my niece’s heart.”