Page 45 of Sew Matcha in Love
“Together,” I said before Arwyn could answer.
“Yes, a hot vanilla spiced tea with one sugar to go, please.” She turned to catch my gaze. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” I held her gaze for a beat longer than I should have, then answered Marie. “Lofty-size Matcha Madness, please.”
“Coming right up!”
I pressed my credit card to the pin pad and tapped in a tip as Marie wrote our orders on cups. We moved down the counter and waited for her mom, Jannell, to make our drinks.
“Zaki Marsch! No way!”
As I turned toward the door, a quartet of young guys in Voltage hoodies, hats, and sweats were filing in. I grinned, recognizing them from training camp. None of them had made our roster, but they were good players, and their team was in first place in their division.
I transferred my drink to my left hand to reach my right out for fist bumps. “Arwyn, stay away from these troublemakers. They’re bad news. Especially this guy,” I teased. “I played with his oldest brother.”
He grinned. “Mason Kuntz. Nice to meet you.”
“So, how’s it going? Volts are looking sharp this year,” I complimented him.
“Yeah, I’m happy to be here. We’ve got a great team.”
“Hit me up if you want to come to a game,” I offered. “Mason knows how to get in touch with me.”
Another round of fist-bumping and I gestured for Arwyn to lead the way out. Once we were back on the sidewalk, she tucked her arm back into mine.
We crossed Main Street at the intersection and strode past the bookstore, picking up the smoothly paved sidewalk that ran southwest alongside Snowpack Creek. Swinging benches were placed alternately on each side of the creek, and we chose the closest one to settle into.
Arwyn had been quiet during the entire walk over, and I was desperate to fill the silence. As she sipped her tea inchesfrom me, I wondered what to ask her first. I wanted to know everything. Her childhood, her family, her hopes and dreams.
“So …” I elbowed her gently and kept my eyes focused on the frozen creek bed. “How did you become so awesome?”
She elbowed me back. “So … how’d you become so crazy?”
“Touché,” I conceded. “Sisters. I was always being bossed around by the older one—Mirette—and looking out for Sofi when I was around. It was kind of boring at home. And I had to be on my best behavior when I lived with Viki’s family. So whatever hockey team I was on became my outlet for the extroverted entertainer that cries from my soul to be released on a daily basis.”
She laughed. “And all are still your friends. Even their siblings, like Mason. Amazing.”
“Yeah, I’m a lovable guy. My brand of torture comes from a place of love.” I snuck a glance. She was grinning.
Good.
“Are your parents still in England?” she asked.
I shook my head. “They moved back to Quebec when Sofi started college. Mirette still lives in Sheffield, though, with her husband and their three kids.”
“You must miss them. Do you get to see them often?” Her empathetic tone made me think she already knew the answer.
I shrug. “Not as often as I’d like. Family—all of my family—is important to me.” Looking at her and knowing she was on her own made me want to include her in everything the girls and I did while we were here.
Her response cemented my sentiment. “Take in and cherish every moment, Zaki. You never know when it could be your last with someone you love.”
I knew from experience just how true that was. “Your turn,” I encouraged her. “Tell me everything about you. All the thingsthat made you who you are, because from what I’ve witnessed, you’re an amazing person, Wynna-bun. And crazy talented.”
She sighed. “There’s not much to tell. I’m super boring, actually.”
“Run your story through the Zaki Scale of Snoozes and I’ll determine how boring you are.” I tapped my nose. “I have a talent for sniffing out and avoiding everything boring, you know.”
“Ha!” She nudged me back with her entire torso and took a sip of her tea. “I think your sniffer is broken because I’m the very definition of plain and boring. I’m sure that’s why I developed such an extensive imagination.”
