Page 29 of The Puckable Playbook

I slide into the car, typing:

You can mind your business now. Don’t get Mom in a tizzy.

Mom got herself in a tizzy. She LOVES her.

I sigh, putting my phone away and shutting the door.

My father asks, “Everyone all buckled?”

No, not from him, too. I turn his way, and he’s giving me the widest grin.

My whole family is crazy.

The rest of the way back to our suite, my dad talks happily beside me as the lake turns to trees, then the trees to houses when we near Warner. Len asks him questions about the Mini, and he answers with glee. If there’s anything he loves to talk about, it’s the toys he’s acquired.

Before long, we’re pulling to a stop in front of Knightley. He puts his hand on my shoulder until I turn to look at him. “Good luck. See you at the game.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Len says from the back. “I really had fun hanging out with the Jameses today.”

My dad peers over his shoulder and smiles. “You’re welcome back anytime, dear.”

That’s more than they said to Trish, and rightfully so, looking back on everything.

I give my dad a mock salute, and Len and I get out. My heart is heavy, weighing my footsteps down. It always is after I leave them. Their presence is a reminder of where I came from and the fact that their lives kept on turning, even when I wasn’t there to enjoy it with them.

“Wow, your family is so—”

“Don’t,” I snap, waving at my dad as he pulls away.

“I was going to say awesome. Or amazing. I was going to say that I wish my family was more like yours.”

“Oh.” I cast my gaze toward the ground while I walk. “Sorry. Reflex.” I open the main door for us, but she’s stopped moving, staring at me until I add, “Some people think my family is too much.”

She nods, and I might be imagining things, but I’m pretty sure she knows exactly who I mean. She probably heard it all, come to think of it.

“Well, I thought they were great. All of them. If my dad came to visit, you would die of boredom.”

“Only your dad?”

“My mom left when I was two.” She averts her stare, but I don’t think it’s out of grief, just another mystery that makes up Lenore.

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugs in answer and slips through the open door. We head toward our suite, Len walking in front, and I have to say, those leggings are working for her. Not that I’m trying to look. Her ass is just kind of there, and it’s…Damn.

I shake the thought off. “Is it cool if I watch some game tape on the main TV in the living room tonight? It’s bigger than the one in my room.”

She lifts her shoulders, but then whirls, nose scrunching. “Yeah, thanks for telling me about the game so I look like an idiot, and don’t make a habit of doing hockey…shit in the living room. That was one of our agreements.”

I put my hands up in mock surrender. “I won’t.” Her attempt at sounding fierce brings a smile to my face. “I don’t even have to do it tonight.”

“I’ll allow it,” she says, eyes distrusting, then she breaks into a warm grin. “Only because I want you to blow a kiss to your mom tomorrow. I thought I was going to cry when she started crying.”

“Then my diabolical plan is working.”

“Huh?”

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