Page 50 of Pucked Up Plans
“Didn’t you ask her this morning?”
“Burgers on the grill,” my father supplies, joining our conversation.
“Yum,” I say, the same time Lennon yammers, “Yuck.”
Dad and I laugh, Lennon’s gaze volleying between us.
“Be good for Poppa. I’ll see you when you get home.” I lean down to her, presenting my cheek to her lips. With a smack, she leaves a kiss. “Love you, Squirt.”
“Love you, Keeley.”
My father chuckles, encouraging her use of the moniker. I can’t blame him. I’m no better.
“Thanks, Dad. See you at home.”
I climb into my truck as Lennon and Dad head for the van. The automatic door opens, and he lifts her inside, saying something to make her giggle. I can’t hear their conversation or her laugh, but I love watching their connection.
He may not have wanted to be a grandfather so young, but he plays the part well. He spoils her in the best ways, and she’s smart enough to know it. I wouldn’t trade their relationship for anything.
I’m not sure who’s more fortunate: me, for parents who embraced my unplanned teenage fatherhood, or her, for adoring and doting grandparents who never complain about helping to raise their kid’s kid.
Definitely a toss-up.
CHAPTER 14
WALSH
The following Friday, after a long shower on my protesting muscles from a taxing practice, I dress quickly, needing to be at school to pick up Lennon. Megan said she was all out of sorts this morning, crying at the drop of a hat about anything and nothing at all.
Great.
I’m jazzed about this weekend. Unlike most weekends, we somehow have an open schedule with no game and not much on our agenda. I plan to lie low and enjoy the solitude.
When I get to preschool, I spy Mom’s car. I scratch my head, wondering if I’m supposed to be somewhere else if she’s here.
Guess I’ll find out soon enough.
I park next to her, and she hops out.
“Did I miss the memo? What are you doing here?”
“Lennon asked me to come meet her friend Aubrey. So here I am. Figured I could take her for a treat.” I can’t be certain, but I swear she winks. Which makes this whole situation more bizarre.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Tate pulling in. She parks a few cars down.
A brilliant plan hits me.
“Hey, Ma. Think Aubrey can join you for the treat? Except, the girl doesn’t like sweets, so maybe you could bring them to our house for a playdate. Let them play on the swing set since the weather’s warm enough. Although Aubrey’s not big on that either. Feed them some dinner.” I sweeten the deal a little. “Aubrey will eat whatever you’re making.”
Mom kinda stares at me, unblinking. Possibly because I’m practically foaming at the mouth for her to agree.
Finally, her head bobs up and down. “If it’s okay with Aubrey’s mom, I don’t have an issue with it. Think she’ll agree?”
“When Lennon suggests it? Of course.”
She raises a brow. “This should be good. Wish I had popcorn.”
The doors to the school open, kids rushing out every which way. It’s crazy how even at this age, the kids are excited for the weekend. As if their lives are so hard.
