Offering him a wide grin, Olivia agreed, “Deal.”
Poised to continue on to her next mission, she turned back and looked at me.
“Caden, will you be here for Christmas?”
I might have choked on my tongue in shock.
“Um, I’m not sure?” I hedged, my voice catching on the last syllable.
“Well, in our family, we can invite our important friends to stuff, so I can invite you to Christmas because you’re Uncle Asher’s boyfriend, and you gave me some good ideas to think about. So, I think we can be friends too, right?”
“Sounds just right, Liv,” Ash jumped in, saving me from having to figure out the right thing to say.
“Okay, good,” she said, holding her hand up for a high five.
Lightly slapping her small palm with mine, that damned moisture was crowding behind my eyelids again.
“Finally, it’s my turn to sit here,” Ash said before he slung one of his long legs over the back of the couch, followed by the other, dropping his body into the seat beside me.
“Asher Carter Landry! What did I tell you about standing on the back of the couch cushions?” his mom, Linda, called from across the room.
“Geez. Can’t get away with anything around here. They were supposed to be happy to have me back,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth.
“I heard that,” came Linda’s voice, much closer now. “And I am happy to have you home, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to make my couch cushions all saggy.”
She took a seat on the wide, rustic wooden coffee table across from us.
“If I have to hear your father talk about his lower back pain one more time and blame it on the ‘lumpy’ couch cushions rather than because he forgets to do his physio exercises, I might explode. Or, there might not be any strawberry-topped Pavlova for his birthday.”
“Oh, Mom, pulling out the serious threats. I better warn Dad before I leave. Maybe I’ll put a reminder in his calendar app on his watch,” he offered.
“Great idea, honey. When he remembers to charge it about twice a week, that is,” she replied, rolling her eyes.
Ash put his arm around me, tucking me into his side. Each time he did that, it felt like he was bringing us into our own personal cocoon that nobody else could see but us, making my limbs melt into his body.
“So now that you’ve met our wild brood, and the rest of the kitchen duty has been left to Shane, I want to know more about you. Asher says you’re from Sudbury? My dad took me to the sciencecenterup there when I tagged along on one of his business trips one time. I loved it.”
Linda smiled kindly, embodying the former kindergarten teacher that she was.
“Yes, Mrs. Landry. I grew up there. Our elementary school did a couple of field trips to Science North, and everyone on my street saved up all summer cutting lawns and raking leaves in the fall to make sure we had enough to go. I still have the space poster I bought in the gift shop in grade five on my bedroom wall in my parents’ house.”
“Right next to the poster of me?” Ash piped up.
To me, she said, “Caden, please call me Valerie. I’m five years past being ‘Mrs. Landry’ and you’ve already had your trial by fire initiation into the family coming to a ‘yes birthday’ for a seven-year-old!” Then turned her gaze on Ash, “What’s this about a poster of you, honey?”
“Well, you see, I’ve been Cade’s favorite hockey player and idol since I first set foot on the ice in my rookie year in the NHL. Honestly, Mom, I can hardly get him to shut up about all the ways he admires me, how he got into hockey just because he saw me play on TV at the Junior Worlds, how he chose the number seventeen for his whole hockey career just to match my number. Hell, he’s even seventeen for the Hammerheads this year.”
I started choking on my saliva halfway through his ridiculous speech. I was simultaneously embarrassed and amused—but mostly embarrassed—by the litany of ways Ash took credit for my years in hockey.
If only those had been the real reasons for my playing.
Valerie jumped in before I could get my breathing and swallowing back in coordination.
“You, my darling firstborn, are full of shit,” she declared. “How did you fit that big head of yours through the door? Do I need to take new measurements for my knitting projects this year?”
She stood, moving in front of Ash until their knees touched, and reached for the side of his head with both hands.
“I wouldn’t want to spend all those hours working my way through my list of TV shows only to find out I’d knitted your Christmas gift hats way too small for your growing head.”
