Page 137 of Keeping Score

“I want M&M’s,” Lily said, snapping to attention at the mention of chocolate.

“Like Auntie, like niece,” Cassie muttered, rifling through her bag. “Lucky for you two, I just so happened to have a craving for something sweet today.”

She pulled out a bag of watermelon Sour Patch Kids, followed by a few Almond Joys, some chocolate-covered pretzels, and a bag of Swedish Fish.

“Random selection,” I noted suspiciously.

“I just went to CVS and bought whatever looked good in the moment,” she responded sheepishly. “I know, I splurged.”

“It’s okay, Cass. I think you can afford to.”

“Yeah, but now I don’t even want any of this junk.” She said, sounding emotional over it all. “Now, all I really want are some chicken tenders.”

“Then go get your chicken tenders, girl.” I said, snatching the snacks from her. “Trust me, this ‘junk’ won’t go to waste. In fact,” I said, ripping open the bag of Swedish Fish, “it’ll sustain me for at least the next three days.”

“See, Maggie?” Cassie snorted. “This is why you can never leave us. You need to be under our roof so we can nourish you.”

“Nourish me?” I laughed out loud.

“Yeah, Auntie Maggie. You should live with us forever.”

“There’s a thought,” I snorted. “Go on, Cass. Go get your food. We’ll be good here.”

She smiled gratefully and rushed off to do so, after asking three too many times if I was sure I didn’t want anything from the concession stand.

As she left, I took a moment to look over and admire my niece. Her hair was in pigtails with blue ribbons and she wore her mini BRYNN jersey, which was like a tiny pickaxe to my cold, impenetrable heart.

“You know,” I said, making a point to whisper loudly, “your mom is kind of silly, Lil.”

“Yeah.” Lily agreed. “She is silly. Like Uncle Brody. He keeps missing all the pucks.”

I furrowed my brows, glancing at the scoreboard. Lily was right; the Harbor Wolves weren’t doing great.

“Maybe ’cause he’s sad about leaving.”

“Leaving?” I asked.

“Yeah, he said it to Daddy.” she chirped, distracted by each clamoring noise coming from the ice. “He was telling Daddy in the kitchen and I was supposed to be sleeping. But I wasn’t sleeping. I was hearing at the door, ’cause I woke up early.”

“What did he say, Lil?” I asked her, knowing I was putting too much stock in the words of a three-year-old but unable to help myself for any scraps of information that concerned Brody.

“He said he wanted to go back.”

“Back where?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Maybe home? People like going homes.”

I frowned, wondering what she could’ve overheard. Did Brody want to go back to the apartment? Probably. The situation we were currently in was unsustainable, to say the least.

But neither of us had even approached the topic yet of going back to the apartment. I guess, technically, it was mine. It was where I lived before I met him. But now, I couldn’t associate it with anything except memories of us.

And I’d been holding off on any talk of moving out because that would mean it was really over, which I just couldn’t admit.

But I had made a promise not to be selfish anymore, and that meant having hard conversations. I couldn’t keep him in a state of limbo, even if it was more comfortable to exist in that than the uncertainty of what came next.

After the game, I thought. That’s when I’ll talk to him.

Chapter Forty-Five