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We hang out with Marc for a bit before he disappears somewhere and Sylvia carries Meredith away to talk to her. I hang with the guys, but my eyes are always on Meredith.

“I need to talk to you.”

Marc appears out of nowhere.

“Where have you been?” I ask as we separate from the group.

“Having sex in my truck.”

“What?”

Marc jokes a lot, and he likes to have fun, but that never transfers into having sex with random people. He just doesn’t have it in him.

“I don’t know what happened. There was this girl by the bathrooms, and I asked if she was okay, and next thing I know, she jumps me. I don’t even know what she actually looks like because she was wearing a mask and a wig, but damn, she was perfect.” He stops as if distracted by the memory.

“Then what’s up?”

“We ended up in my truck, she said her name was Ivy, but I don’t know if she was telling the truth now; she probably only said it because she was dressed as Poison Ivy. When we finished, she froze up on me. She nearly broke her ankle getting out of my truck and running to the other parking lot. She was gone before I could get out of the truck.”

“Sounds like you have a crazy chick; you should be glad she ran.”

Marc shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Why do all the good ones have to run away from me?”

I laugh, nearly spitting out the sip of beer I just took. He has sex with a stranger in his truck who then runs away from him and he thinks she’s a good one? “Why don’t you ask around and see who she came with?”

“Eh, don’t want to have to explain why I’m looking for her. Maybe we’ll see her at the next party. Though, I’ll probably only recognize her if I see her bare hip. She has a dove tattoo. I’m just trying to figure out why she ran.”

“There’s no telling when it comes to women.”

“That’s the damn truth,” he agrees.

TONIGHT WHEN I walk into the family box, I’m greeted by Sylvia’s daughter, the one who is outgoing. She reminds me her name is Stephanie, takes my hand, and leads me over to her mother, where her sister, Stella, is sitting in Sylvia’s lap.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Stephanie says, making her statement sound like a demand.

“Are you?” Sylvia asks Stella as I take my seat next to them. Stella shakes her head. “Why don’t you wait with Meredith then?” The little girl looks at me and then her mother. “She’s nice, remember? You met her at the party.”

I feel as unsure of the situation as Stella does, I’m sure. But I find myself saying, “Come on. You can sit with me and we’ll try to find your daddy when they come out for warmups.”

Mentioning her father must earn me points because Stella gets down from her mother’s lap and comes to climb into mine. I’m frozen for a moment as the little girl gets situated to face the ice.

“Do you want anything?” I shake my head. “We’ll be right back. She never wants anything from up here, so we have to go down to the lower level,” Sylvia says, taking Stephanie’s hand and walking away.

Stella keeps her gaze on the ice. The players should be coming out in a minute or so. There’s conversations happening all around us. The little girl seems oblivious to it all.

“Do you like watching your daddy play?” I ask.

Stella doesn’t even look at me. She only nods.

“Do you ever skate with your daddy?”

Another nod.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” she finally speaks. Stella looks at me now. “I play.” Cheers from the lower bowl distract her as players make their way onto the ice for warmups. “Where is Daddy?”

“Do you know what number he is?” I ask more out of curiosity than anything else. Stella holds up seven fingers instead of saying his number. “There he is.” I point to the lower corner. A huge grin appears on Stella’s face. I might as well not be here anymore as she intently focuses on watching her daddy. She is most definitely a daddy’s girl. She probably always will be.

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