Page 40 of Lucky
I grin as I seize on his discombobulation and bolt past both my brothers.Victory, and garlic, are mine.
True to form, my mother has prepared enough food to stock a fallout shelter.There’s roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans with bacon and her infamous garlic bread, which she swears is low carb because she “uses intention instead of flour.”
Plates are full, talk is boisterous, and it takes exactly five minutes for the conversation to shift tohim.
Lucky.
“So,” Caleb begins casually, slicing into his chicken like it insulted him, “how’s Mr.Professional Hockey?”
“His name is Lucky,” I say, already bracing.
“That’s not a name.That’s a Vegas promotion.”
“He seems nice,” Mom offers, ever the mediator.
“He’s famous,” Dad says, pointing his fork at me like he’s connecting dots.“Do you know how famous people get into trouble?They start dating civilians.Like astronauts dating raccoons.”
“That is not the metaphor,” Mom huffs.
“He’s not a raccoon,” I say.“He’s… sweet.And funny.And maybe kind of a little extraordinary.”
Eli raises one eyebrow.“You said you were looking for normal.”
“I was,” I admit.“But maybe I underestimated what I want.Or need.”
There’s a long pause as the family processes.
Caleb is the first to break it.“Well, at least he’s not a barista-poet who thinks astrology is a career path.”
“Or that guy who told you women shouldn’t wear pantsuits,” Mom adds with an eye roll.
“Or the one who faked a British accent for three weeks,” Eli mutters into his mashed potatoes and everyone chuckles at my expense.
I hold up a hand.“Okay, okay.You’ve made your point.And for sure, Lucky isn’t like those guys.He’s grounded.Smart.Doesn’t take himself too seriously.But he’s a freaking professional hockey player.That’s so far away from normal.Don’t you think that’s just asking for trouble?”
“He let a rabbit share his spotlight,” Dad says, surprisingly serious.“That’s something.”
“And he called you electric on one of his stitches,” my mom offers.
Caleb smirks.“Well, I hope he knows that voltage runs in the family.Because if he hurts you, I’ve got twenty places to hide a body where it’ll never be found.”
“I’ve got fire and legally sanctioned axes,” Eli adds, ever the firefighter.
“Boys,” Mom warns, but I beam anyway.
Because this is them.They’re loud and weird and so unreasonably invested in my dating life, but it comes from love.Fierce, unconditional and overwhelming love.
Which is something I know Lucky appreciates.He’s very close to his mother, sister and nieces, so he understands my need to have my adult life intertwined with my parents and siblings.
After dinner, while Dad does dishes and Mom queues up a podcast calledMurder at the Farmer’s Market, I sit out on the porch with Sadie curled into my side.Today was warm, but it’s starting to cool off.
Buttermilk’s on his long leash, wreaking havoc on the front doormat.
Caleb steps out and hands me my second beer of the evening.
“You really like this guy?”
I nod.“Yeah.I think I do.”
