“I know, I know. Head costume designer. It finally happened.” I put my glass up and Kitty clinked it. “But he’s not happy for me.”
“Fuck him. This is about you. Tonight, we celebrate you.”
Her phone chimed. She flicked a glance at it, then flipped it over.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Nothing. Let’s go raid the pantry and make some messed up dinner.”
We put together a feast of popcorn, pasta, and a random steak Kitty had, then put on a movie. All the while, Kitty’s phone kept dinging.
“The game?” I finally asked.
“The game. They’re winning for what it’s worth.”
“You can watch them,” I said. “It’s been a long day. I think I’m gonna hit the hay.”
Kitty winced at me. “You sure?”
I nodded. “Got another long day of work tomorrow. Gotta put out an ad to hire my replacement.”
With a hug, Kitty sent me off to their guest bedroom.
Chapter 45
Mikey
“Get in, Mikey!”
Coach had been shouting at me from the bench basically the whole game, and that’s how it had been on every shift.
I turned over the puck every single time I got it. I swear I heard the crowd laugh when I did it the last time.
I tried not to think about my dad watching, and how he would blame all these fuckups on me. And yeah, I’m an adult, and he wasn’t the one in pads and skates, but he fucked with my head. Plus everything else that had transpired that day.
The game was a blow-out, no thanks to me, with us taking home a 3-0 win. Obi had a hell of a game, maybe just to spite all my shit. After the game, Mom and Aunt Lori waited in the reception area. They were both all smiles, talking to Stelle when I got there like nothing was wrong. Like they hadn’t been responsible for imploding my entire world.
“Benny!” Aunt Lori cried, sweeping me into a hug. I hugged her back, but half-assed. “Tough game, kid, but you pulled through.”
I forced a smile and hugged my mom. “So proud of you, kiddo.”
I stared at my shoes, struggling to figure out what to say. Fuck it. I met my mom’s eyes. “Why have y’all been lying to me?”
“Lying? About what?” Lori asked.
Mom seemed to get it. “Lor,” she said quietly.
Guy leaned in. “You good?”
“Great,” I gritted. He clapped me on the shoulder and headed for our bus.
“Please, Benny,” Mom said. “Can we go home?”
“No. You give me a ride to my hotel, and you tell me on the way.”
I sat sullen in the back of their stinky-dog car. They had three Saint Bernards, which is like three too many. So many things clicked into place. How they’d gotten dogs together. How sometimes, it looked like Aunt Lori hadn’t “gone home” to the guest house at night when Dad was gone. Mom washing the sheets between Dad being gone and coming home.
Mom was openly sleeping with someone else while Dad was gone. I guess Dad was, too. What kind of fucked up shit was that?
