“Soccer players aren’t exactly on food stamps.”
“You know what I mean. So, the hockey game.”
“I think Kitty needs cheering up. She won’t leave the building yet so I figured I could bring the game to her.”
“You turning my basement into an ice rink?”
“No,” I said dryly.
“Then you can do what you want.”
“You haven’t heard?—”
“You’re treating my baby. You can have at it.”
“I wanted to buy you a big screen and then have the snacks brought in that we’d grab at the arena so we could make it a surprise.”
“What time’s the game again?”
“Puck drops at eight.”
She arched a brow at the clock on her wall. “You think you can make this happen?”
“I can make a lot happen in two hours. I didn’t realize the series started until earlier this afternoon.” As she set a large cheese and pastrami sandwich in front of me, I crowed, “Thanks, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Lucas thinks I’m mad.”
“For letting me stay here?”
Her gaze dropped to the sandwich. “Eat.” I quickly obeyed. “But I See what he doesn’t.”
“Kitty mentioned you have the Sight.”
“Let me guess, she rolled her eyes over it.”
“Maybe. But I’m Sicilian.”
“So?”
“So, we’re suspicious and superstitious and believe in pagan religions as well as Catholicism.” I only took an extra-large bite after inquiring, “Have you Seen something… good?”
“Your place in Sicily, is it on the cliffs?”
“Yes.”
“Near a lake?”
“We have a lakefront beach and an ocean view.”
“You have an old man, an uncle— No. A great-uncle. He’s too old to be anything else. He lives there?”
I blinked. “He’s in the hospital. We’re bringing him home and Kitty will head up his team.”
That had her rapping her knuckles against the counter. “Interesting.”
When she didn’t say more, I rasped, “Is she happy?”
“You make her happy, yes.”
