Page 77 of Playing for Keeps

“Uncle Max!” Lucas shouted. “You PROMISED mini hockey!”

“Whoa, easy there, bud,” Max said, laughing as he bent to ruffle Lucas’s hair until it stuck up in soft brown tufts. “We’ll get there. You say hi to Emma yet?”

Lucas peeked around Max’s leg and smiled at me shyly, showing his missing teeth. “Hey, Emma.”

“Hello, Lucas.” I crouched to his level. “I’m really looking forward to losing at mini hockey.”

“Yeah, you’ll lose,” he said, sounding very happy.

Grace ushered us further in. “Okay. We need to leave before our reservation evaporates. Coats on the hooks and shoes wherever they land. They’ve been fed, but snacks are on the counter. We told Lucas to go to bed at eight and Lucy to go to bed at half past.

“Absolutely not,” Lucy said in a calm voice. “Bedtime is up for discussion.”

“Shocking,” Grace said quietly and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. She kissed Lucas while he held on to Max like a barnacle. “Please be nice to our guests, my love.”

“I am nice,” Lucas said, apparently offended.

Aidan lovingly corrected, “You’re a chaos goblin.” He grabbed his keys and looked at us, “Text me if you need anything. Or if they form a union.”

“Go,” I said, shooing them. “Have fun.”

The door shut behind them. Lucas immediately let go of Max and sprinted down the hall. “Hockey!”

Lucy sniffed softly. “We should begin with something civilized.”

Max raised his eyebrows and looked at me. “Civilized?”

“Cupcakes. I brought sprinkles.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up. “What kind of sprinkles?”

I whispered, “Rainbow stars,” like I was in on a secret.

She gasped. “Lucas! CUPCAKES!”

He ran back into the room like a rocket and crashed into Max’s legs. Max staggered, clutching his thigh. “Oh, I’m hit!” Man down!”

“You’re ridiculous,” I told him as I stepped past, tapping his shoulder with the back of my hand on the way to the kitchen. He caught my fingers, squeezed them once, and then let go. It was small and simple, but it warmed my heart.

The kitchen looked the same as it always did, with signs of family life all over the place. There was a whale-shaped magnet holding up school notices, a Lego spaceship left on the breakfast table, and a dog-eared recipe propped up against a jar of wooden spoons. Barney thumped his tail against the cabinets and nosed our knees in the hopes that he could help. Lucy told him he could only help by supervising.

I said, “Right,” and rolled up my sleeves. “Lucy, you’re my sous-chef. Lucas, sprinkles and moral support. Max…”

“Head taster?” he cut in, hopeful.

“Head egg-cracker,” I said as I handed him a bowl and three eggs. “Let’s see if you can handle the basics.”

“Watch and learn,” he replied.

Unfortunately, the first one didn’t even make it to the bowl. The shell, the yolk, all of it hit the counter instead.

“Brilliant start,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“I loosened it,” Max said, with a completely straight face.

“That’s not real,” Lucy told him. “You just made that up.”

I picked pieces of shell out of the goo while still biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Okay,” I said. “Maybe this time you should be a bit more gentle.”