I finished folding the crown and stood, walking over to her with it between my hands. I stopped in front of her and placed the crown on top of her head. “And no matter what age you are, you’ll be my princess.” I bent to kiss her, holding her shoulders when I pulled back to look at her. “Plus, don’t they make hormones and shit for all that?”
She snorted. “They make hormones and shit. You’re right.”
I caged her against the counter with my arms and hemmed her to it with my hips. “And you know how I love it when you’re mean.”
THIRTY-SIX
EMMA
MAY
Liamand I sat in the seats below the WAGs box in Boston, my leg bouncing as we watched the Rusties warm up. We wanted to get out of the swirl of the seemingly four million children between all the families there. Liam had already been tackled several times by a mob of Harlan’s teammates’ children while playing mini hockey. The real game hadn’t even started and he was already touched out. He sat two seats away from me so he could stretch out. I sank my teeth into a mustard-covered hot dog.
“Mom, how many hot dogs is that?”
“If I don’t eat a hot dog, my team loses. And more hot dogs means more winning. It’s science.”
Liam screwed up his face. “Then what happened in Cincinnati? You got a hot dog then.”
“That’s baseball. Different rules.”
“Sure,” Liam said slowly. “But more people eat hot dogs at baseball games than hockey games.”
“Do you really want to argue with science?”
The tips of Liam’s ears turned pink and he sat forward, giving a small wave of his hand. I searched the ice for his target and found Owen standing next to Garner, pointing up at us. Garner’s wife waved behind us, and I waved over my head, just in case Owen was really waving at me and not Liam.
“You’re being embarrassing,” Liam grumbled.
“What?” I asked. “Those are my coworkers down there. They were mine first.”
“Owen’s not mine,” he protested. “We’ve talked at like, two things. He’s just nice.”
My mom-ly Spidey sense told me I’d accidentally touched a nerve. I rarely pushed Liam about who he was interested in. “You’re right. Total sweetheart.” I twisted in my seat to look behind me, reading the other WAG jackets. “I didn’t see anyone with his name on their jacket, either. Doesn’t seem like he has a partner.”
“Good for him,” Liam sniffed.
I patted his leg. “I’m going to go talk to Mara. And maybe even eat another hot dog.”
Tension prevailedin the WAGs suite. The Rusties were down 4-2 going into the third. Harlan had to be kicking his own ass over the four that got past him, but I knew to leave him alone. Once he was locked in for a game, he stayed in. No phone. No bullshit.
A two goal game is anybody’s game. Hockey could flip in a matter of seconds. A couple good rebounds, a couple lucky breaks, and it could be tied up.
Just before the team came out for the third period, Liam pulled his ballcap low and checked his phone. He coughed and I patted his back. “Alright, buddy?”
“Um, Owen just asked if I want to hang out after the game.”
I fought the urge to smirk. There could be worse sons-in-law than Garner Owen. “Oh. Well, you can do what you like. Harlan and I’ll be alright.”
“Ew, Mom.”
“What was gross about that? I said we’ll be alright.”
“Just, I don’t want to think about the two of you alone.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t ask you to.” I nudged his side. “Do you get this way about your dad and Michelle?”
“Sick! Don’t make me start!” he whined.