There are plenty of superstitions around the Cup itself. If you ever hope to win it, you should never touch it. Harlan had already brought over a stand to hold it, so we could all ooh and ahh over it without those hoping to win it needing to touch it.
Owen waltzed over and wrapped his arms around it, giving it an exaggerated kiss. “You jealous, Liam? You probably won’t ever win it, so you can go ahead and touch it.”
“Dick.” Liam grinned and shoved Owen. “I’m not risking it.”
I looked at the group of us gathered around the Cup. Some guys from Liam’s juniors team, the Sorrento kids, and the Leroy kids all played hockey and could feasibly hope to win someday.
“Well, I won’t win.” Nine-year-old Alice Sorrento stepped forward to kiss the cup, and Dylan whipped out his phone to take a picture.
“I’m not touching it.” Her seven-year-old sister, Bella, crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m going to win it someday.”
“You can’t. You’re a girl,” her brother, Greyson, reminded her.
“Watch me,” Bella said with a flick of her raven black hair.
Harlan crouched to give Bella a high five. “Fuck yeah you are, goalie girl.”
“Royce, this isn’t the hockey rink. Watch your language, please,” Jeanine said.
Harlan grimaced. “My bad.” He blinked up into the sun. “Okay, everybody get your pictures. I don’t want her getting too hot in the sun.”
“Yeah, my ice cream sundae will melt in it if it’s prewarmed in the sun,” I said. Harlan had put up an objection to my ice cream sundae idea, saying it was so cliché and overdone. I reminded him that as a staff member, I was also entitled to a day with the Cup and I could do as I wished with it. Miguel and I fed those boys to a win. That Cup was as much ours as it was theirs.
Well. Sorta. They worked a little harder.
But only a little.
“Wait, Liam doesn’t even get to eat a Cup sundae on his graduation party day?” Owen asked. “That’s brutal.”
“I’ll gladly eat it from a cone like a commoner,” Liam responded. “I won’t ruin my chances.”
Colton murmured something in Violet’s ear and she looked at him. “I won’t touch it!”
I tried to figure out what that was about, but didn’t give it much thought.
Harlan slipped a small box into Liam’s hand, something Jeff and I had reluctantly agreed to. Harlan argued that it would make me worry less about Liam when he didn’t live at home, and I didn’t have a good comeback for that. Jeff put up ten kinds of resistance, until Harlan told him, “Seriously, man. I won’t even feel it. It’s my graduation present to him.”
Liam’s jaw dropped when he opened the box. “Keys? To a car? For real?”
He pulled Harlan into a hug and whispered something in his ear that made him laugh. “Can’t have you breaking down on the way to your games,” Harlan said.
“Is it . . . here?”
Harlan flicked his chin toward the street. “Parked it out front.”
Liam kept opening and closing his mouth. “Mom, can I?—”
“Yes, you can go look,” I said.
“Your mom made me choose something sensible,” Harlan said. “No sports car. Come on.”
“Does it have a CD player?” Liam asked.
“Uh, no,” Harlan said. “Does it need one?”
“Fuck no, I want a functional stereo this time.”
I blushed, feeling bad that I’d had my son driving around in a clunker for so long. Whatever. He made it out the other side. It built character.
