Page 5 of The Hooker

“Go for it.”

I click a button on the steering wheel to accept the call. “Talofa. Daisy’s in the car with me, Mum. How are you?”

She ignores me and says in English, “Hello, Daisy, how are you? Keeping Jamie in top shape?”

I roll my eyes while Daisy replies, “Talofa lava, Mrs Atoa. Of course I’m keeping him in top shape. How else will we win the Freedom Cup? We’re heading to training now.”

Mum laughs. “Good, I’d trust no one else.”

I glance at Daisy and see red creeping into her cheeks and decide to save her before Mum incriminates me or causes Daisy to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. I switch to Samoan and ask, “Is everything okay?”

Thankfully, Mum takes the hint and switches from English too. “Everything’s fine. I wanted to check on you. I didn’t know you were still carpooling with her. Asked her out yet?”

“Mum,” I hiss and check that Daisy isn’t following the conversation. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know Samoan, but it would be just my luck she decided to learn it to fuck with me.

Mum cackles. “What? Too shy, baby?”

“No! It’s more complicated than that.” I blow out a slow breath before I say something to induce her wrath. “How are you and Dad? Milani said you watched the game and your sisters are flying in for a visit.” My youngest sister, Milani, gleefully texts me while I’m on the field with ways to improve and occasionally asks if I’m still alive when I’m sent off the field for an HIA test. Which has decreased over the years as I get more careful. I do not want the issues that come with constant concussions.

“They’re here for a while so it would be good if you could visit,” Mum says, which translates tofind time to visit.

“I’ll come by in a few days.”

“Bring Daisy.”

“I’m not bringing Daisy.”

Daisy looks at me as I pull into her brother’s driveway and raises her eyebrows. She may not speak Samoan, but she knows the sound of her name.

“I’ve gotta go, Mum. Love you.”

“Bring her!”

I end the call and rub a rough hand over my eyes. God love my family, but must they be so interfering? I’m lucky Mum hasn’t demanded access to the sheds to meet Daisy when she attends games.So far, they’ve only spoken on the phone.

“You okay?”

I unbuckle my seat belt and turn to scratch under Westley’s chin. “Is your family as interfering as mine?”

“You’d think having parents who forget we exist, Sage would be less interested in my life. Yet here we are dropping off my dog, and I’ll get texts from Poppy all day asking about ‘my boys.’” I swear to God, if I’m not one of her boys, I’ll cry. She smiles and it lights up her face. My lips twitch to return it. “It’s the best. Even if for some reason they decided to continue the one family tradition we have of naming kids after plants. Poor Violet.”

I laugh. “You’re right, having family is the best. Even if they name you after flowers you kill within a day.”

“Hey! It took me three days to kill them.”

For her birthday last year, I got her a bouquet of daisies. It was her thirtieth, and I wanted to buy her a present but didn’t want to make her uncomfortable; flowers were my workaround. Two days later it was my carpool day, and when I picked her up they were wilted in a vase without water.

I narrow my eyes at her until she breaks. “Fine, I killed them. Let’s go before we’re late and Alex kills you.” I hold my fist out until she bumps it with hers, low five her hand gently, and squeeze the tips of her fingers before I let go, and leave the heated car for the damp drizzle.

She sets Westley on the concrete who races to the door and tugs against the lead with his tiny body, turning to glare at her when she doesn’t walk quickly enough.

The front door opens before we reach it and Poppy, Daisy’s sister-in-law, appears in front of us. Sage took keeping flora and fauna names in the family to the next level by marrying someone with a flower name.

Westley dives at her, and Poppy crouches to rub his tummy. He preens under the attention. “Hey, Daze. How’s it going, Jamie? Hamstring feel all good?”

“Never better, all thanks to this one.” I nudge Daisy with my shoulder.

“I’m glad she’s earning her keep.” Poppy lets us through the door and envelopes Daisy in a hug, and then tugs me into one. I bend so she doesn’t need to reach as far and pat her shoulder. While Poppy’s hugs are nice, I wish it were Daisy.

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