Page 50 of Golden Goal

Introductions are made.

“At least come in for coffee,” Mom insists.

Wonderful.

Becca looks at me and I tip my chin toward the apartment. She stares at me for a few seconds, and I hold my breath, bracing myself for her to decline. Have I overstepped? Maybe I should have tried to shut down my mother’s invitation. I don’t want to make things awkward between us.

“Coffee sounds wonderful. If you’re sure you don’t mind,” Becca says.

“Of course not.” I wave them inside.

Mom beams and hurries back into the apartment. Wes winks at me as he walks past and I narrow my eyes. He’s up to something. I just know it.

“Where’s my niece?” he asks.

“In the kitchen with my dad.”

He holds up a gift bag that I didn’t see he was carrying and heads that way. “Hazel girl, Uncle Wes has a Christmas gift for you.”

“I can’t believe you invited him,” Hadley whispers, shaking her head at me before turning to our guests. “How do you take your coffee?”

“How about I go with you, and I can fix everyone’s,” Jill says, standing from where she’d just taken a seat on the couch next to her husband and Becca.

The two women make their way out of the room, leaving me alone with Becca and her dad.

“So, how long have you been playing hockey, son?” Calvin, Becca’s dad asks.

“Since I could walk, sir. My dad played in the AHL. He wanted to instill his love of hockey in me, so I’ve always played.”

He leans back against the couch cushions. “Did you always want to be a goalie?”

“No. I played forward at first but eventually decided I wanted to be in the net. Mom wasn’t happy.” I chuckle. “The equipment is expensive. Not to mention she didn’t like that I was purposely going to be standing in the way of the pucks. It took a while for her to come around to the idea.”

Before Calvin can say anything else, Wes walks in, my daughter in his arms, followed by the others. Drinks are handed out, a couple of dishes of cookies are put on the coffee table, and everyone starts talking. This is nice.

Someone, I think my dad, pulls out Scrabble, and a game is started.

“I feel bad we’re infringing on your Christmas,” Becca says as I’m making a bottle for Hazel in the kitchen a little while later. “Once their game is over, we’ll get out of your hair.” She tips her chin to where our parents and Hadley are huddled around the board.

“It’s no problem at all. I think my parents are enjoying the company.”

I enjoy having you here, in my apartment, my space. With your family and mine hanging out. I could get used to this.

“I swear my dad could make friends with anyone,” she says.

“I’m pretty sure I heard him and my dad making plans to go for a walk tomorrow morning. And my mom was telling your stepmom about a knitting project she’s working on.”

Becca smiles, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. “Yeah, Jill loves to knit. I’ll bet you anything she sends me something for Hazel in a few weeks. Multiple things, just so you’re warned.”

I bark out a laugh, turning to face her, resisting the urge to touch her. Tuck the strand of hair that’s fallen in her face behind her ear.

“That’s sweet of her. Hazel is going to be one spoiled little girl.”

“You don’t say? I mean, she does have a million uncles.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Don’t remind me. When it gets back to the rest of them that Wes got her a Christmas present, I’m sure they’ll all show up with gifts at our next practice. This apartment isn’t big enough.”

“Don’t tell them he got her a gift.”