“But you—?” Everly’s father points at Princess.
She splays her fingers and plants them on her chest. “I’m Princess Braaten. Also known as Princess Papaya on the Caribbean’s Premier Royale Cruise Line. It’s a far cry from Isle Royale. I’d never survive there. There isn’t even a coffee shop.” She bunches up her face.
The space between Mr. LeFevre’s eyebrows shrinks, along with my hope, as my brother stands there blankly, looking at Princess like a lost puppy dog.
“Isle Royale?” Bran whispers.
“So, how do you know him?” Mr. Lefevre wags his finger between Princess and me.
“Oh, we used to be together,” she says like it’s no big deal.
“But you’re married to Everly now?” her father asks.
I extend my hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
His grip is firm. “Okay, and how does this guy fit into it?” When our hands drop, he points at my brother.
That’s a great question, but before I can hear an explanation, everyone starts talking at once and applause echoes through the banquet room like a dinner murder mystery was solved.
But it’s not. Not even close. I try to make my way to Bran, but everyone is bustling around, chatting, and carrying on as if my world didn’t erupt in a violent storm of thunder and lightning ricocheting off nearby clouds.
“Hold on,” I bellow, but no one hears me.
I’d like to reverse the route that took me to Los Angeles and go home to my cabin and son. It’s my safe harbor and right now, I feel like I’m drowning from all the people and pressures pushing in on all sides—the team, the future, and my brother’s questionable health status. He’s bedraggled, sunburned, and far too thin.
Or have I been under so much stress that I’m imagining the whole thing? My vision blurs around the edges and my muscles tense.
I blink a few times, watching Todd in Everly’s face, talking aggressively. I wind up, ready to clock him, but someone beats me to the punch. Literally.
I’m not sure what happens next, other than a lot of black and blue, shouting, and a regular ole Bruiser’s dust-up. Guess you can take the guys out of the fight, but you can’t take the fight out of the guys.
Only, instead of throwing more punches, everyone is throwing food. I find my way to Everly as she hucks a doughnut at Princess’s head. “Here’s your crown, Princess Papaya.”
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but it’s fun.”
“I just barely got out of hot water with the team.”
“If Coach Hammer sends you back to Blancbourg, I’ll put in a good word for you.” Everly winks.
“You’re not going to teach there anymore?”
“No, silly. I’m a mom now. I have a family and playing the role of a metal magnate in my future.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, my dad did punch Todd. So, the likelihood of them teaming up is slim. I wouldn’t say no to taking over for him when the time comes.”
“Except you’d be Queen Sunshine instead of the Ice King.”
“I like that.”
“Also, punching Todd was my job,” I say.
“The Ice King doesn’t have a coach or commissioner he could get in trouble with. At least, not anymore. Then again, the Ice King didn’t do much to try to avoid the penalty box back in the day. I also think that was my dad’s way of telling me that he’s on my team, a surprise after all these years of supreme chill.”
A grape flies in my direction. I catch it midair and squeeze. “I have to admit, I’m over these kinds of shenanigans.”
