Page 89 of Pickled
“We might. Piper’s incredible.” Just saying her name made me smile. “She’s got this competitive streak that comes out when she plays. It’s sexy as hell.”
“Sexy, huh?” Ace grinned. “So things are going well?”
“Better than well. I think…” I drained my glass. “I think I’m falling in love with her.”
“Holy shit,” Ace sputtered, nearly choking on his beer. “Did Gideon Bailey just use the L-word?”
“Shut up.”
“No, this is big. This is historic. I need to document this moment.” He pulled out his phone, ready to snap a picture.
“I’m serious, Ace.”
“I know you are.” He set his phone down and leaned forward. “Tell me all about it. How did she win you back?”
I laughed. “It was more me winning her back.”
Ace gave me a pointed look. “After she…lied?”
I told him about Olive and the racket camp, about Piper working double shifts to support her daughter, about all the bullshit she had to put up with at the club. I told him that I understood why she had lied and why I respected her even more now that I know why she did.
The waitress stopped to check on us. Ace ordered us another round of beer and a plate of deep-fried shrimp.
“She sounds amazing,” Ace said. “Goldie seems to think so too.”
“And the kid sounds pretty cool too. For a kid.”
“Olive’s incredible. Smart as hell, funny, completely fearless.”
Ace nodded as he drank his beer. “I’ve got to tell you something.”
The wind picked up, sending ripples across the water next to the patio. I trapped my napkin with my beer glass before it could blow away. “Go for it.”
“You know how Goldie can see things…” He paused. I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. The whole psychic thing.” Ace ignored me. “She saw you and Piper, together, in one of her visions. She even saw you with a daughter—our niece, she thought, but now she thinks it was Olive all along.”
Jimmy Buffett’s voice rang out through the speakers, and I thought about what Ace had just told me. “You know I don’t really believe any of that stuff, but out of anything Goldie has ‘seen,’ I’d say this sounds the most accurate.”
“Damn. You really are gone, aren’t you?”
“Completely.”
Our food arrived, and we ate in comfortable silence, the kind reserved for brothers. But Ace still seemed distracted. My phone rang, and the number on the screen made my pulse race. “I’ve got to take this.”
Ace’s brow furrowed as I answered the call. It was short. And it was definitely sweet. By the time I hung up, Ace’s focus had returned, and it was all on me. “You’re back?”
Dr. Maurice had just confirmed that I was cleared to get back on the ice. “I’m back.”
“Fuck yeah!” A few of the Zen Lagoon patrons stared as Ace pulled me from my chair and thumped me on my back as he hugged me.
“Easy, dude.” I slipped back into my seat. “It’s not a big deal.” It was a big deal, but it had been easier for me to convince myself that getting permanently benched wasn’t an option. “Alright. Now you,” I said. I nudged the platter toward him, and he ate the last shrimp. “What’s going on? You’ve been checking your phone every five minutes since you got here.”
Ace sighed and set down his fork. “Remember Goldie’s best friend, Mel?”
“The Realtor? Yeah, what about her?”
“And you remember Goldie’s dad, obviously. My coach. Your former coach.”
I made the “get on with it” gesture. “Of course. What’s this about?”
