Fine.
Fine. The kind of fine that means everything’s definitely not fine, but he’s not going to tell me about it.
I shove the phone in my pocket and head up the walkway. Before I can knock, the front door swings open.
“There he is,” Mark says, pulling me in for a hug. “Thought you were gonna bail on us again.”
I force a smile. “I’m here.”
“You’re late. Traffic rough coming over the bridge?”
“Something like that.”
“Mom’s been cooking since six this morning,” he says, walking with me toward the backyard. “She made that pasta salad you like.”
“The one with the?—”
“Olives and sun-dried tomatoes, yeah. She’s been talking about it all week.” He stops at the sliding door and gives me that older brother look that says he knows there’s more behind my short answers. “Is everything good with you? You seemed tense on the phone yesterday.”
Tense. If only he knew how tense.
“Just work stuff,” I shrug. “You know how it is.”
“Actually, I don’t. Most people’s work stuff doesn’t get analyzed on SportsCenter.” He grins and claps a hand on my shoulder. “Come on. Tessa’s been asking about you. Logan and Cam are here, too.”
I swallow a groan. Cam and Logan are great but the last thing I need are other teammates around today. I don’t want to talk about hockey or the team or our playoff chances. Logan may be retired, but he’s still heavily involved because of Cam’s soaring career.
The sun burns bright in the sky and I squint. Dad turns away from the grill and waves.
“I’ve got some nice steaks for today, bud,” he says. “And sausage, veggies, burgers…I hope you’re hungry.”
“Sounds great, Dad,” I say, walking over to give him a quick hug. I wave at some family friends and relatives on the lawn.And then in a cloud of vanilla sugar, my mom throws her arms around me.
“Sweetie,” she exclaims. “I’m so happy you’re here. I baked all of your favorites.”
My stomach rumbles and I hug her tight, burying my face in her hair. She’d always bake my favorites whenever I was going through a rough time as a kid. As if sugar can cure all ills. I mean, most of the time it did. But the ills I’m suffering now are gonna take way more than calories to cure.
“I can’t wait to sample them all,” I smile at her flushed face and sparking green eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
She plants a kiss on my cheek. “Anything for my baby boy.”
I spot Tessa sitting at a picnic table with her son Ethan, who’s intently coloring something. She looks up at me, her face lighting up.
“Tate!” She jumps up to hug me. “I’m so glad you made it. How are you? We’ve been watching your games.”
“Thanks. Not that there have been many to watch lately.”
Tessa rubs my arm. “Logan says that’s normal. Sometimes players need time to find their rhythm again.” She glances toward where Logan and Cam are talking with Dad near the grill. “He went through something similar during his last season.”
“Something like that.”
Ethan looks up from his coloring book and holds up the page he was working on. “Hey, Tate! Look what I’m drawing.”
The picture is supposed to be a hockey player, based on the stick and what might be considered skates. It looks more like an alien with a tree branch, but Ethan grins like he just created the Mona Lisa.
“That’s amazing, buddy. Who is it? Your uncle Logan?”
“No, it’s Cam. I’ll draw you and Uncle Logan next.”
