Page 45 of The Puck Bunny

“Of course,” Lenny says. “Any acquaintance of Quinn’s is a friend of ours. It would be great to get to know you, Sara.” He gives her a sincere smile and I get a bad feeling about this.

“You all have a great night,” Jonas says. “I’m meeting some friends—”

“What about Mindy?” Sara says, raw disappointment bursting through whatever previous polish she showed. She’s really taking this Jonas-Mindy thing to heart. Probably because she has a very big heart.

“How do you know Mindy isn’t one of the friends I’m meeting?”

“Is she?”

Jonas smirks, and takes off without answering.

“Is everything all right?” Mom asks.

“Yes,” I say before Sara has a chance to give any kind of explanation. “Let’s get to that restaurant before we miss our reservation.” I turn to Sara. “Will you join us?”

She shakes her head. “I couldn’t intrude on your family dinner.” She looks around. “Besides, I don’t want to desert Billie Mae.”

“Looks like Billie Mae deserted you,” I say, looking over her head and watching Billie Mae talking to the equipment manager, or rather, flirting with him.

Sara spins around to look, but I take her shoulder and turn her back around to face me. “Come with us.”

It’s a foolish thing to say, a foolish way to say it with my stupid pleading smile and damn dimple, like I mean it. It’s especially foolish because I do mean it and insanely foolish because I’m saying it in front of my mother and the others. Mom will think all kinds of things—all the wrong things.

But I don’t want Sara to be deserted. And I do want to look at her, to tease her, to watch her blush and hear her laugh. And I especially want to see her occasional brave outburst of raw emotion.

Just this once. Then tomorrow the team takes off for a string of away games and when I get back, we’ll resume as nothing more than acquaintances, someone I might see around once in a while, wave hello to in the hallways. Someone I don’t stare at and definitely don’t talk to, let alone tease. Fuck.

Hockey. Stanley Cup. Focus. That’s the reason I’ll give my mother why I’m not seeing Sara when she asks me about her one day in the not-too-distant future. Seeing her? For fuck’s sake, I never planned on seeing her. I don’t want Sara to get that impression either. Even though she said she’s only about the Big O, I know better than that. Her emotional outbursts tell a different story about who she is.

“I’d love to join you for dinner—if you think it’s—”

“Please do,” Lenny jumps in, taking her arm and ushering her toward the parking garage. “You’ll be a breath of fresh air compared to any girl I’ve met who Quinn’s dated.”

I’m following behind him and tweak him on the back of the head, reverting to our twelve-year-old best-buddy status like no time or baggage intervened between then and now.

He laughs and so does my mom. Though I notice she has a rim of sadness around her eyes that never leaves. Her smile—and the dimple I’d inherited—never quite clear, like she’s seeing us, the world, from under a lake of fallen tears. That’s when I feel the slam to my gut like I’ve been hit by a slapshot. Dad’s gone and Mom is grieving and I haven’t been here.

Whatever state of suspension my emotions have been in these last six months disappears. My seeming immunity to the emotional toll evaporates and I stumble with the weight.

Sara turns, her effervescent smile faltering as she looks at me. I’m not sure what she sees, except that it’s an undefended version of my face, reflecting the sudden vulnerability and hurt that churn inside me. I can’t have that, so I muster up a smile, forcing the dimple into place.

She takes my arm, looping hers around me and bringing me up to walk with her and Lenny while my mom and Aunt Mary walk ahead of us.

“We’re taking my car,” Lenny says. “Christopher and his family are meeting us at the restaurant.”

I stop. My brother? “I didn’t think he came.”

“Of course he did,” Mom says. “He would never deprive his children of the chance to see an NHL game. Those seats you got us were fabulous.” There’s a note of encouragement and pleading in her voice.

“Great.” Fuck. Last thing I’m prepared for tonight is the strain of keeping the peace with Chris. I glance at Sara who’s watching me closely. Maybe it’s good that she’ll be at dinner tonight.

“Where’s the rest of your family?” I ask Lenny.

“They’ll be coming to the next one. My sister flew the coop and lives in the Berkshires now, so it’s not a quick commute. And Dad… He needs some preparation for an excursion to Boston.” Lenny’s voice tightens and I give him a nod of understanding and put a hand on his shoulder.

We reach Lenny’s giant Suburban SUV, then pile inside. I sit up front with Lenny. Sara’s in back seat with Mom and Aunt Mary. I’m not sure how she feels about sitting between two strangers, so I turn and wink at her, giving her a real smile of encouragement, then I turn on the radio with the volume cranked up to listen to sports talk. Maybe that will take the pressure off her and any need for conversation.

Lenny and I jump into our usual talk about the game as if we were still on the same team like high school.