Page 78 of Must Love Dogs… and Hockey

“That’s okay. Thanks for doing this. I would have picked up a few bags of chips.”

I grin. “That might be better. We don’t know how this is going to turn out.”

I move the pan off the burner and turn to mix up cream cheese, milk, and some parsley I chopped up. Then I dump that into the big skillet. More mess ensues as I try to mix it all up, then turn it in to a big tinfoil casserole I purchased. I sprinkle the rest of the bacon on top and study it.

“It looks like the dog barfed it up,” I pronounce.

Easton guffaws. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does.” I wrinkle my nose. “Oh well.”

“I’m sure it tastes good.” He goes to dig a fork into it, and I smack his hand.

“It has to bake first.” I slide it into the oven and set the timer. “We’ll see how it tastes when it’s done.”

He helps me clean up, even though I’m the one who made the big mess in the kitchen using multiple cutting boards and utensils and scattering food everywhere.

“What time are we supposed to go over there?” I ask him, wiping the counter.

“Some guys are going this afternoon to watch football. But dinner’s at six.”

“I need to go see my grandma. It’s Thanksgiving.”

He nods. I’ve told him about Grammy in the care home. “We can go there right after lunch.”

“We?” I turn to him. “You don’t have to come with me.”

He shrugs. “Why not? Grammy sounds entertaining.”

“Are you sure? You can go watch football with your friends and I’ll come later.”

He meets my eyes. “I’ll come with you.”

I bite my lip. “Okay. We can even take Otis.” I pause. “As long as you have his vaccination records.” I know he took Otis to the vet to get him checked after he decided to keep him.

“Yeah, I have that. Sounds good.”

So that’s what we do. Grammy’s happy to see Otis again, and very interested in Easton.

“Do you fight a lot?” she asks him.

“No.” He grins. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

“Well, that sounds promising.” Grammy winks at me.

I cover my face with one hand. “Oh my God.”

Then she frowns. “Does that mean puck bunnies?”

“Grammy!” I drop my hand and stare at her. “What do you know about puck bunnies?”

“I know you better not be one.” She points at me.

My eyes widen. I look at Easton.

“She’s not a puck bunny,” he says. “I had to convince her to go out with me. She didn’t think we were…what was the word? Compatible.”

I bite my lip on a smile. “Okay, I was wrong.”

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