Page 49 of Pucker Up
“Tell me about your mom.”
Ace continued to stroke my hair. “She’s great. She puts up with my father.” There was something in his tone that told me that it wasn’t entirely a joke. I didn’t say anything, giving him the space to decide if he wanted to tell me more.
My mom had put up with my father for years, so I knew what it was like to grow up with tension in the home.
“She was like any other mom.” A smile spread across his face. “She stayed home when Gideon and I were kids, drove us to hockey practice at five o’clock in the morning, and volunteered at our school.”
She sounded like June Cleaver, the polar opposite from the mom I’d grown up with. “Did she bake bread from scratch too?”
He cracked open an eye. “She did, but… You’re joking, right?”
“I was, yeah.” I let out a chuckle. “It sounds like you and Gideon had a good childhood.”
“We did. I mean, there were a few years there when money was tight and Mom took a job at a donut shop in Marquette. We lived out in the country, and in the winter, I think she got stuck in snowbanks more than she was at work.”
I propped myself up on my elbow. “You grew up in Michigan? I didn’t know that. Although…” I paused to kiss his bare chest. “I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you—except your seven dwarfs dogs.” He smelled like cedar and tasted like salt. I licked my lips, savoring the taste of the sweat from his chest.
“You’ve got a good memory. I wish we’d chosen hockey player names like your family instead. That’s so much cooler.” He opened his eyes and shifted to a sitting position. “Is Morton a player?” He rubbed his chin. “I must be losing my mind. I can’t think of any players with that name.” He patted the sheet next to him. “Come sit beside me.”
I shimmied up next to him and pulled the sheet over my chest, tucking it into my underarms. “You’re not losing yourmind. If there is a player named Morton, I haven’t heard of him. I got Morty from a shelter. He came with that name—and I didn’t change it.”
“It suits him.” Ace smiled. “Although, he does remind me of our malamute Dopey.”
“Ace.” I swatted at his arm. “How dare you insult the dog that flew off the ferry. If anything, he’s more of a Crazy.”
“Is there an eighth dwarf that I don’t know about?” He shifted to face me. “That would make you Snow White.” He cupped my jaw in his hand. “And you look like her too. Do chickadees land on your shoulders when you’re walking in the woods?”
His hand warmed my cheek and I fully relaxed into the support of it. I held his wrist and kissed the palm of his hand. “No, but when I was little, my mom left food out for the crows. There was one that would eat from her hand and leave presents for her next to the dish.”
“You’re shitting me. That’s not a thing.”
“It’s true, I swear. Girl Scout’s honor.” I held up my hand in the signal I’d learned as a Scout.
Ace did the Boy Scout’s hand signal in response. “All right, if you’re throwing those signs, I believe you. Your mom sounds like a cool lady.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Coolis one word I could use to describe her.” The wordflakewas the other one that came to mind.
“Are you like her? Is she beautiful and smart and have hair like a Disney Princess?” He wrapped his fingers around my rumpled strands and rubbed his thumb on the tangled ends.
“No,” I blurted. “I’m nothing like her.”
He stopped fingering my hair. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch a nerve.” He smoothed my hair over my chest, resting his hand on top.
Squeezing his hand, I sighed. “That was harsh. I love my mom. She’s a wonderful person, but we are nothing alike. I’m analytical and scientific, and she…talks to crows.”
He nodded. “Well, maybe one day I will get to meet her and she can tell me all about her pet crows.”
“That would be nice.”
“Are your parents still together? Does your dad talk to woodland creatures too?”
“No.” I didn’t want to divulge too much about my father. “They split up because he couldn’t stop cheating on her.”
“Shit. Sorry. Here I was blabbing on about my family and I didn’t ask about yours.” He sounded genuinely remorseful.
“It’s ancient history.” I tried to make my voice sound as cheery as possible. “He started after a head injury.” I couldn’t believe I was sharing this information with Ace.
“That’s why you’ve devoted your life to studying brain injuries.”
