Page 65 of Love at Teamsgiving
My gaze lands on Junie. I think back to her comment about us not being good for each other. When things got tough, we worked independently instead of together, turning to what was familiar—our respective families instead of to each other.
Who says jocks are dumb? Sports and hockey principles apply to real life, too.
I want that woman in my life more than anything. Not just so I can see her in my jersey or to kiss her. But because we’re right for each other, especially if we realize we’re playing for the same team.
I walk over to where Junie is chatting with Margo and a few of the other wives. I slide my arm around her shoulders. I half expect her to flip me over her shoulder, martial arts style, and brace me in an arm bar, but she’s deep in conversation with her friend. It’s as if my arm around her is perfectly normal. It used to be. I hope she’s not accustomed to some other lug touching her. Grimaldi slinks closer. Anger rips through me at that thought.
It isn’t until I speak to Margo that she looks up at me. “Mrs. Hammer, you did an outstanding job planning this event. Is your company available this spring?”
Margo laughs. “That depends on whether you guys win the playoffs.”
I smirk. “Oh, we’re going to win. How about next summer?”
“I have some openings. Why? Looking for a summer job?” she jokes.
“More like a lifetime gig. But maybe winter would be best.” I snug Junie closer.
Junie reads my mind and narrows her big brown eyes at me, but her smile widens because, of course, I remembered her favorite season.
I waggle my eyebrows.
Just then, my brothers descend and have the rest of the ladies laughing about puck-ering up. They’re not flirting, far from it, but the Cruz brothers could take their act on the road. They enjoy entertaining people—in that regard, I suppose building remodels and contracting is the wrong business, but it pays the bills.
Junie’s cheeks turn pink. Never mind,like, Ilovethat I’m the one who makes her blush. Knowing them as she does, she slips in with an embarrassing story about Paulie’s first date with his now-wife. I live to hear her laugh. To see her smile and feel her body shake with giggles under my arm.
My brothers continue to hold court as various members of the team and their families come and go. All the while, Junie remains by my side.
Ma and Pop say goodnight, but they don’t look tired. They’re night owls and I imagine when I get home, they’ll be playing a game of canasta. Mrs. Popovik is joining them because she says goodbye too.
My brothers must’ve come in a separate car because they stick around a little longer before inviting a few of the other post-win party guests to Spaglietti’s—the local pizza joint for an after-after party.
Junie and I find ourselves alone for the first time since she gave me the game-winning kiss.
“I can walk you home.” The words slip off my lips out of habit because I’d steal whatever time I could with Junie when she and her family would come to our apartment on Henry Street for Easter—an all-out cooking war between the moms even as we celebrated the Resurrection of the Savior.
She bumps me with her elbow. “Do you mean, can you drive me home?”
“Yeah, that.” I was in the zone at the game earlier, but now I’m zoned out on everything except her. She has me in a haze and I like it.
Once we’re in the car, she asks, “Are you tired?”
“More like buzzing. The adrenaline after the game and then a party like that has me wired.” I exit the parking lot for the arena.
We’re soon on Main Street. Cobbiton is a quintessential small town with shops and restaurants lining the two intersecting primary thoroughfares. Houses and a few newer developments that support families associated with the Knights spread toward the corn fields. Then there’s the farmland and wooded area where I purchased my and Junie’s dream house.
“Do you like it here?” she asks.
“So far so good. You?”
“Adjusting. What about your parents?”
“This is our third big move, and it’s their favorite by far.”
“It’s good of you to take them with you.”
I grunt. “They said this time they’re staying. Even if I get traded to Timbuktu, they’re not moving again.”
Junie giggles. “What about somewhere warm?” she asks, likely recalling that neither Ma nor Pop enjoys cold weather.
