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On the ice, the girls ran the drill, weaving around the cones pushing a puck with their stick.
“I’m not. Mav is helping. He’s got a private investigator and a lawyer all over the situation like a bad rash.”
Mav. She was sharing her problems with her man.
Shit.
“You were home for six months before you met him.”
“I know and I said I was sorry. And doing it alone, hello pot, kettle, or whatever that saying is,” she said, sarcasm lacing her words.
“What are you talking about?” I wondered.
Aspen sputtered out a laugh, but she was watching the girls’ practice. Or Dex.
“You.” Bridget poked me in the shoulder. “You do everything alone. You didn’t call me about the tree falling on the house. You took on the insurance company on your own. You were going to do it all by yourself as if it’s only your problem. If you had your way, the place would have been fixed before you even told me about it.”
“It’s my house.” When Bridget gave me another look, I added, “It’s your house too, but I’m the grown up. I’m the one who takes care of stuff like that.”
“I’m not ten any longer.”
I pursed my lips, but she wasn’t done.
“The broken toilet earlier in the year. I could have looked up online how to fix it just as easily as you did. The groceries. I know how to shop for food. The… do you really want me to go backwards and list it all?”
“Definitely not.” I crossed my arms over my chest which screamed defensive posture, which I couldn’t help.
“You’re not cranky right now because of me,” she pushed on. “You’re mad at Dex for not telling you he plays pro hockey.”
“His job explains why his butt is so fucking perfect,” Aspen added wistfully. She raised her hands and made a squeezing gesture which I assumed meant she was grabbing his butt.
Which I knew was perfect. And those thighs. Like steel.
“Did he say why he didn’t tell you?” Bridget pushed on after laughing at Aspen.
“He wants me to like him for him, not being famous.”
Aspen turned to look at me and she and Bridget shared matching expressions of awe and… lust?
Bridget sighed. “Don’t tell Mav, but Dex is pretty much perfect.”
“This is maybe the third time you’ve started a sentence with Don’t tell Mav.”
“That’s because we’re talking about his hot brother.”
We were all quiet for a moment as Dex set one of the cones on his head and led the girls on some kind of Follow The Leader where he did a few S turns, spun backwards and circled the net and kept going. I could hear their squeals and giggles from here as they tried to keep up.
“Speaking of not doing things alone,” Bridget began. “It’s time you got laid.”
“Totally,” Aspen added.
I glanced around in panic, hoping no other moms heard that. I saw that Dex had rearranged the cones and the girls had moved onto a new drill.
“I don’t need–”
“Yes, you do,” they said in unison.
“A vibrator is no substitute for Dex James,” Bridget said.
