Page 83 of Keeping the Score

Mabel gives a tiny squeal. “I knew it. I’m so happy for you.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s serious,” I object, but it’s weak. Very weak. Because I’m feeling kind of serious about Andi. Like, I hate it when she’s not around. My day feels brighter when she is. I love just talking to her.

Mabel cocks her head. “Okay.” She pauses. “You’re not taking advantage of her, are you?”

I scowl. “What does that mean?”

“It would be shitty if you were sleeping with her to keep her around to help with Tilly.”

My jaw drops and nearly smacks Tilly’s head. “What! That’s bullshit.”

“I’m just saying.” She lifts one shoulder.

“That is not what’s happening,” I growl. “Not even close.”

“Does she know that?”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Of course she does.”

“Okay.” She smiles. “I just know how single minded you can be. Especially about hockey.”

I dip my chin in agreement.

“I would hate for you to be so inflexible that you would miss out on something great.”

I gaze back at her. Just what Andi said—don’t let your need for control and perfection cause you to miss out on things. “I get it.”

She studies my face. “Okay, good.” She stands. “If you ever want me to babysit while you two go out on a date, I’d be happy to. I love that baby.”

I stand, too. “Um, thanks.”

24

ANDI

Ford and I take turns with Tilly, although others at the party want to hold her and play with her, which is a nice break, too. We eat, drink, and play games. And laugh a lot.

I like these people. Mabel is a hoot, and the guys are so down to earth for professional athletes. I’m having fun.

Seeing Ford with his “hockey family” makes something flutter in my chest. I can’t stop watching him, seeing how easy he is with them, and how much they respect him. Although you’d never know it from the chirping.

“Why are you wearing a mullet?” Eddy asks him.

Ford looks at him in horror. “This is not a mullet.”

“Yes, it is.”

Ford runs a hand through his hair. “This is the finest lettuce in the Metropolitan Division.”

“You still losing hair?” Crusher asks.

“I’m not losing hair.”

“You ever thought of going Mark Messier?” Eddy regards him thoughtfully. “I mean, if you’re worried about losing hair you might as well shave it all off.”

“No, but I could rock that look. My head is perfectly shaped.”

This is apparently part of hockey. But underneath the put-downs and friendly insults, there’s a strong sense of trust and affection among all of them.

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