“It is,” she answers.
Noelle is fighting back the same laugh I am and mouths, “Oh my God.”
I mouth back, “Right?”
“Oh God,” Mrs. Costello moans. “That man is simply beautiful. But you know that, don’t you, dear?”
“I do.” Nalani nods.
“Do you remember that conversation we had in the parking lot back at Hayward all those years ago?”
“How could I ever forget?” Nalani snickers.
“That man makes more money off his cock than any porn star or escort has ever made, and he doesn’t even have to put out.” Mrs. Costello laughs.
To that, Noelle and I giggle like teenagers, because how could you not?
“His cock is everywhere, and once they win the cup, I’m sure it’s going to go international. The Olympic cock, perhaps.” She laughs. “Wouldn’t that be fabulous?”
“I’m sure his accountant would love that.” Nalani fakes a smile. Hmmm….
“So will his agent. Do you remember the beautiful Drew Daniels? She played hockey with her sister, Dylan, who is now the mother of my great-grandchildren—triplets,” she singsongstriplets.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. They’re the best things that ever happened to me. Please don’t tell Dean this; I have always been his number one fan. Still am. But those little darlings … God, I could eatthem up.” She squeezes Nalani’s hand. “I still have your number. We’ll set up a lunch.”
She turns and looks around, eyes stopping on me. “I heard we had another KET girl here and that she has a precious little darling, no doubt future KET.” She walks over and gets a good look at Savannah. “Oh yes, and possibly a future Warren-Costello. I have two grandsons who will one day woo the hell out of a little princess. Wouldn’t it be fabulous if she was also KET?” She claps.
“I—”
Mrs. Costello pulls a card out from her bag. “I’m not sure which area of expertise you studied, but I can assure you that I can point you in the right direction. I know all the crazies in this fabulous city.” She laughs then stops quickly. “Oh dear, I did not mean that to offend, even though it was said with affection, of course. I often seek the advice of a mental health professional when needed. But Dean has warned me that is not the appropriate way to talk about people who require help sorting through their emotions, traumas—hell, I don’t know—everything. It pays to have a friend, even if you have to pay them, am I right?”
“I, um, thank you, Mrs. Costello,” I manage.
“I’m not sure how you feel about travel, but I know Dean could use another sports psychologist on the team. These Bears really need to be able to vent their frustrations, so they stop ending up in the penalty box all the Goddamn time. Don’t you agree, dear?” She laughs. “But then again, how would it affect their game? That would be one hell of a study to conduct, and then a journal article may be published. I think that’s a wonderful idea for you. Give me a call next week, and we’ll discuss.” Next, she turns to Noelle. “I would like to set up a weekly book club at dear darling’s little store. Of course, we needto make a space for that to happen.” She pulls out another card and hands it to her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Costello.”
“Ladies, one sister’s success means little, but many sisters’ successes make the world voluminous. We are sisters; call me Bitty.” With that, she turns and heads out just as she came in, like a storm.
“How did I not end up with a grandmother like that?” Sofie laughs.
“Friendly reminder: you don’t need one. You take over every space you enter.” Nalani smiles.
“I think that was mean and uncalled for,” Sofie huffs.
“Girl, that wasn’t mean. You’ve come a hell of a long way from the Sofie in freshman year who rambled on when she was anxious. You’re badass now, Sofie.” Nalani states.
Sofie beams.
“But you’re also a meddler.” Nalani adds,
“Am not.”
“Tell me you didn’t set that up.” She crosses her arms.
“Oh, look, it’s Dylan Daniels, the first female coach in the NHL.” She points to the glass wall. “Ladies, the puck is about to drop.” Then she walks over, opens a bag, and pulls out a tiny red, black, and white Brooklyn Bears jersey. Holding it up, she walks over to me.
