Page 88 of All We Need

So pale, they’re almost silver.

“Don’t forgetto stomp your feet,”Iholler up the driveway toLottie.

Patrick andJohannaare at the restaurant today, andLottie’smom was called into work last minute.I’dnever turn down a day out with my niece.I’mnot proud of it, but in the past, she’s been the perfect babe magnet.Patricknever took advantage of the “single daddy” persona—so someone had to.Today, however, when the women’s hockey coach skated over to me on the lake,Iwas quick to declareLottieas my niece and myselfunavailable.

Lottie halts outside the front door and pounds her little snow boots on the ground, leaving splatters of white around her.Whenshe’s satisfied, she pushes open the door and bounds into the house.

“Grandma!It’sme!” she shouts.

I’m close behind, mirroring her asIstomp my feet before stepping inside.

My mom greets us in the hallway.

“Did you two have fun?” she asks while helpingLottieout of her snow pants.

“Yep.”Lottiegrins from ear to ear while spinning in a circle. “Idid a pillow-et.”

Laughing,Iflick her pigtail. “It’spirouette.Butyou nailed it.Veryimpressive.”

That little ounce of praise has her preening—she’s a lot like me in that sense.Probablywhy she’s such a cool kid.

“Are we eating dinner here?”Lottie’seyes ping-pong between my mom and me.

“Meatballs are cooking as we speak.Whydon’t you get cleaned up and then play in the den?”

Lottie nods at my mom’s instructions and zips up the stairs.

I glare at my mother, who swats me away, already knowing whyI’mmad. “Thedoctor saidIcould put weight on it now.Quityour fussing.”

“Light duties.Standingat the stove for hours doesn’t fall into that category.You’rea menace.”

She ignores me and hobbles into the kitchen.

“I would have cooked,”Icontinue.

“Sweetheart,Iknow that, but you’re always working such long hours.Ithought you’d like a break.”Tomy relief, she settles on a stool and elevates her injured leg.

“I love it,Ma.”Ishrug while stirring the bright red marinara, garlic and rich tomato wafting through the air.

“Do you?”

The wooden spoon crashes to the counter, sending sauce flying and staining myT-shirt.

“Of course.”Idon’t face her, worried my expression holds the truth.

She’s silent for a beat, making me nervous. “I’vebeen thinking a lot lately about you kids and how your dad would have handled all these changes and milestones.Wenever spoke to you about your future in the restaurant…”

A sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.

I’m exposed and slightly panicked over how to respond.IfIreveal the truth, it will break her heart, knowing my dreams don’t involve staying inMaine.

Chuckling nervously,Isay, “Well,Idon’t exactly have any transferable skills to land myself another job.”Ipout at her over my shoulder. “Aly’salready fired me once.Don’ttell me you’re giving me the boot too?”

My humor does the trick in deflecting my mother’s inquisition, andIrelax when she rolls her eyes.

“Speaking ofAly…” she starts. “She’sa surprising young woman, isn’t she?Verysuccessful.Asis her family’s business.Itmakes me wonder what their interest inOurPlaceis.”

Yeah, you and me both.

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