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“You’ll have to tell me about it, after I burn some of this energy off.”
“You got it.” And she’d have to share the info with Dahlia, so Anne Boleyn might stop being the model for her behavior. Truly, the queen’s way did not lie happiness.
* * *
Piper worked on her paper, and then she couldn’t resist taking a warm shower and changing. The best outfit she’d packed was jeans and a jersey, so she opted for the borrowed sweatshirt. Regardless, she was much more relaxed, which would give her an advantage during family dinner. She’d be comfortable. She could charm them.
Piper closed her eyes. She worked with Mikah. She didn’t need to win over anybody. Likely, she’d never see Mikah’s family again except to wave at them in the bleachers if they came down for one of Mikah’s games.
One hour later, she found herself in the large open-concept living-dining room having a pre-dinner drink with the family. The newscast was on tuned to a hockey recap, and an image of a wedding chapel appeared.
Ugh, the Warren and Willow wedding debacle had made national news?
The burly newscaster tapped papers on his desktop. “No one knows the whole story behind the Applebaums’ hastily canceled wedding, but fortunately for the owners, their team is having better luck. Will the Snowers go all the way? The season’s heating up, and they’re raking in the points. Stay tuned.”
“Hope your team can handle the pressure.” Mr. Czerski gave Mikah a sympathetic look. “Always better to exceed expectations than to come up short.”
The muscle ticked in Mikah’s jaw.
“You’re a winner, but the Snowers aren’t. When we get you moved up to a more competitive team, then we’ll see you holding that Cup.” His dad spoke with the self-assurance of someone who knew what it took to win the top honors in the NHL.
Had her parents cheered her on like that, she’d be living at home in the dark dusty attic rocking in the corner. She grabbed her phone and shot Mikah a text. “Could not disagree more. Go Snowers.” She followed that with a pom-pom emoji, and a victory emoji. There, splitting and undermining the parents. She’d be the most popular houseguest of the season.
Steps sounded at the door.
Mrs. Czerski set her drink on the shelf under a massive golden trophy. “That’ll be Lily.”
Lily came in, slender, dark-haired, as pretty as her mom. She held oversized takeout bags in each hand. “Got the Italian.”
They did a quick intro for Piper’s sake and moved on to the dining room. His dad uncorked red wine, while the rest of them set out the dishes and the food. The dynamic was convivial. Lily evened them out. And the chore of dishing out the food onto serving platters was nicely shared, no antiquated gender dynamics with this group. Piper took her seat between Mikah and his mom.
“What did you two get up to while we were out?” Zee sounded like a dad who thought they’d been misbehaving.
“Piper worked on her paper, rowdy Tudors and all that. I had a run.”
Lily smiled at her. “I’m studying etymology. Would love to hear more about your primary sources.”
Piper smiled with enthusiasm. “Anytime.”
“There’s a debate that Henry the Eighth’s head injury caused his ‘kill the wife’ tendencies.” Francesca jumped in, speaking to Lily. “I could probably find you primary sources referenced in the medical library.”
Got it. Francesca had to be competitive to become a doctor, but really? Was she so threatened by a history degree that she had to jump in on Lily’s kind interest? “I’d argue that marital couples could get there on their own without prefrontal damage.”
Mikah arched a dark brow at his brother. “Are you listening, Zee? Sure you want to get married?”
“Mikah!” his mother snapped as she was inhaling her bruschetta. The word died out on a stuttered choking sound as the bread caught. Mrs. Czerski eyes widened. She moved her hands to her throat.
CHAPTER 14
“Dear?” Mr. Czerski asked his wife.
Francesca rose. “She’s choking.”
Piper reached over and slapped Mrs. Czerski hard on the back, once, twice.
Mrs. Czerski flung her arms out. Her wine glass fell to the marble floor and shattered. Mrs. Czerski grabbed her napkin and coughed into it, clearing the blockage. She wiped her mouth off and sagged against her chair in relief.
All of the others were standing now, hovering. A chorus of concerned family members repeatedly asked how Mrs. Czerski was doing.
