“Definitely,” Ellie confirms, and holds out her hand for Skylar. “Come on, lassie.”
“Hold on,” Skylar’s mother says, grabbing her arm and giving her the paper bag she was carrying. “You’re not allowed to leave the condo without my permission. Understand?”
“Yes, Mom,” she says and skips her way down the hall toward Ellie. I think she was just given their lunch or something.
“If she gets to be too much, you can send her home,” Skylar’s mother says.
I shake my head. “She’s not too much, ma’am.”
“Bernie,” she tells me and then touches Skylar’s father’s arm. “Leonard.”
“Hi. I’m Arush. I live next door with the hockey player who’s hardly ever here.”
Leonard chuckles. “Thank you for befriending our daughter. She enjoys your company more than you can ever know.”
“I enjoy her company too,” I assure them.
Skylar pokes her head into the hallway. “Come on, zjohadrr. Amoosh, amoosh.”
“I think that means hurry up,” Bernie says.
I bow my head and continue toward Paul in the doorway. Skylar takes the top two containers from me, and Ellie takes the last. That leaves me with the thermos of lassi slung over my back. It’s probably a good thing we have more ingredients for refills.
There are take-out containers I assume came from Skylar alongside open platters of food, and my containers are all on the table now, too. “We’re having root beer floats later,” Skylar says as she opens one of the containers. “Wow, this looks scrumptious.”
“I also brought lassis,” I say and place the thermos on the table.
She eyes it and says, “A drink?”
“Yes. You’ll like it. It’s mango and delicious. Julian’s mastered it for sure.”
Ellie adds another tray to the table. They’re these big things that have built in sections for food. I kind of love everything about them.
Skylar goes over the different things that she brought. I explain mine and then Ellie tells us the foods she’s prepared. It’s a hodgepodge of different cuisines since Skylar and her parents seem to have stopped for Italian and Ellie made traditional pub food, from what Paul says.
We each take some of everything. With trays piled high, we head into the living room, where there are now four smallfolding tables set up around the room in front of the couch with their television on the game channel.
“Should we have lassis first or floats?” Ellie asks.
“Lassis,” Skylar says. “I think floats should be for the dessert round.”
“Sounds good. I’ll bring in some glasses.”
It isn’t long before we’re gathered around the television and watching the two teams warm up on the ice. Chicago is playing the Nashville Stingers.
“Which one is Julian?” Skylar asks.
“He’s number sixty-four on the blue team,” I answer. “Skating around the goalie right now.” Just as I say that, the camera cuts away from the ice and back to the guys talking. I shake my head. No one needs to see them to listen to their words.
“Have you been to a game in person yet?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I’m going to their next game against Carolina in two days.”
Skylar’s face lights up. “That’s awesome. I’ll need a report of what it’s like to be there.”
“Absolutely.”
The team files off the ice, except for the starting players, as the national anthem is performed by some man with a wonderful singing voice. It’s almost hypnotic.
