Page 49 of Axe-identally Married
The grumbling was only slightly less high-pitched than the chatter. The girls were hilarious.
Soon we were gliding around the ice, working on edges, turns, and stops, and after twenty minutes of hard skating, I brought out the bucket of pucks.
The whole group broke into cheers, more than one girl losing her balance and falling on her ass.
“Finally,” Goldie Gagnon said, putting a hand on her hip. It was hilarious in full hockey equipment, but the sass shone through. She had a lot of talent and led our team in penalty minutes.
“Two lines on the goal line,” I shouted. “Give and go, then shoot.”
They quickly got to work, the sight filling my chest with pride. The first few weeks had been rocky. There were vast skilldifferences, but I’d put my head down, done some studying, and stepped up to the challenge of making them a cohesive team. And to their credit, they worked hard and had fun.
“Why don’t you ever bring your wife to practice?” Kali asked.
“She’s busy.”
“We know her,” Goldie said, stopping sharply behind me and deliberately spraying me with snow. “She gave me shots.”
“She’s nice,” another girl said.
“Then why’d she marry him?” another one sassed.
“Okay, okay,” I said, hiding my grin. These kids never gave me an inch. “We’ll finish with sprints, then we’re going home.”
The rink echoed with groans, making me grin.
“I’ve gotgood news and bad news.”
I toed off my boots and hung my coat on the rack by the door. Willa had beaten me home, which was rare, so the moment I’d seen her car, I was on high alert, worried that someone had called her out on our lie.
“Hit me.”
“The bad news is, we’re finally out of Thanksgiving leftovers.”
Susan had cooked a feast for twenty, even though it had been the four of us eating turkey and watching football together. We’d brought home a mountain of leftovers and had been living off them for almost a week. If I never saw another mashed potato, it would be too soon.
“But the good news is that I made a healthy dinner, because pie is not a food group, and we could both use a serving or two of vegetables.”
“Thank fuck, and yes, I agree. I’m all for vegetables. What did you make?” I tried to hide the hesitation in my voice. Willa wasalways going on about how she couldn’t cook. And I’d fallen into a groove the last few weeks, prepping dinner for us most nights.
Her smile widened and she straightened, causing her oversized U Maine T-shirt to slide down one shoulder, exposing a purple bra strap. Why I was so fixated on that strap was beyond me, but it was damn near impossible to look away.
“Salad,” she said with triumph. “But fear not, husband. This is not some basic-ass salad.”
I took a step farther into the kitchen, inhaling the delicious scents. Okay, that was a good sign.
“This,” she said, theatrically gesturing to two plates overflowing with colorful foods, “is fancy salad. Beets, toasted quinoa, roasted chicken breast, and dried cranberries.”
I leaned in and surveyed the dish, impressed. “You said you couldn’t cook.”
She raised one eyebrow. “I found instructions on YouTube. I’m learning. I can’t let my husband show me up every night.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Goddamn, she was adorable. When she was in doctor mode, she was all business, focused and intense. But at home, she was a goofball, shouting answers atJeopardy, dancing while folding laundry, and curled up reading her fantasy dragon books.
“So you’re competitive, wifey.”
“You have no idea. Now grab your plate so we can watchJeopardy.”
We’d fallen into a routine, exercising, making dinner, and hanging out. We were rocking this roommate thing. The gossip around town had died down, and though I still felt guilty about lying, I’d found it surprisingly easy to settle into life with Willa. We enjoyed each other’s company and had discovered a few commonalities. Despite my initial impression of her, she was one of the least nonjudgmental people I knew, and probably the most supportive. With Willa, I didn’t have to be anyone butmyself. She was always appreciative of any small act, like picking up her favorite shampoo or taking out the trash barrels on Monday nights. Though it might have seemed silly to most, the recognition felt good. It made me feel useful.
