Page 79 of Playing for Keeps

“My dignity is gone,” I puffed, weirdly exhilarated.

Lucas accidentally scored again when he tripped and the puck wobbled into the chair-goal. “GOOOOOAL!” he yelled. He threw his stick in the air before remembering that was illegal. He picked it up with big brown eyes full of guilt. “Sorry, Uncle Max.”

“It’s okay,” Max said, ruffling his hair before kissing the top of his head. I loved to see him like that – unguarded and sweet.

We switched sides so that Lucy could try out as striker. Turned out she was ruthless. She came charging at Max with her eyes blazing and hit him right between the knees with a sharp shot. The puck ricocheted off the leg of the chair and stopped. She threw up her hands. “YES!”

Max staggered, his eyes watering. “Were you aiming for me?”

“It’s strategy,” she said calmly.

“Strategic assault,” he said under his breath, and I laughed so hard I had to lean against him to catch my breath. He steadied me without thinking, his hand slipping to my waist.

I touched his cheek, still laughing. “You okay?”

“Excellent,” Max said, giving my waist a tiny squeeze.

Then the timer went off, reminding us that the cupcakes were ready. “Truce!” I called. The kitchen smelled delicious, like vanilla, sugar, and warmth. We took the tray out and lined the cupcakes up to cool. Max sat on a stool with his chin in his hand, staring at me as if I were the only thing in the room. My stomach did that funny little flip again.

“Okay, everyone, the cupcakes need some time to cool off. So, while I clean up the kitchen a bit, your uncle Max is going to show you some penalty shots.”

Lucas and Lucy bolted to the living room, already shouting predictions about who would score the most. Max stayed behind long enough to give me a serious look. “Throwing me back into the fray, Em. Nice.” But he couldn’t hide his smile as he followed them out.

I cleaned up and set up the decoration station on the kitchen counter before calling them back. Trying to control the mayhem, I gave everyone a job to do, which they performed with the usual chaos. Lucy piped buttercream into perfect swirls, though plenty ended up on the counter – Max took it upon himself to wipe it off with his finger. Lucas shook the sprinkles like he was doing an exorcism, then carefully placed one star in the middle of each cake.

“For wishes,” he said very seriously.

Negotiations began.

“Two each,” Lucas demanded.

“Half each,” I countered. “With milk.”

Lucy crossed her arms and thought about it. “One each,” she said, “and I’ll read to Lucas for ten extra minutes tonight.”

“Deal,” I said, shaking her hand.

Max leaned over the tray and pointed to one hugely decorated cupcake. “That one is mine.”

“Of course it is,” smiling at him.

We ate. Lucas ended up with a chocolate moustache and tried to lick it off. With the patience of a saint, Lucy handed him a napkin. Max acted like his cupcake was so good that he almost fainted. Lucy and I just rolled our eyes and tried not to laugh.

“Okay, story time,” I declared once faces were wiped and crumbs were gone.

Lucy darted for the bookcase and came back with a dinosaur encyclopaedia and The Golden Compass. “Alternate,” she said firmly. Lucas nodded seriously.

She chose the chapter. I read out loud. My voice softened and found the rhythm it only does with stories. I looked up every now and then, and saw Max listening, completely focused. When Lucy finally relaxed, reassured that Lyra would be fine until tomorrow, Lucas shoved the dinosaur book at me. “Read T. rex,” he demanded.

I started, but Lucas stopped me after two paragraphs. “No. Uncle Max does the voices.”

Max pretended to be shocked, then launched into his repertoire. His velociraptor’s scream almost knocked Barney off the rug. His stegosaurus was like a disapproving aunt. Lucy kept correcting his “facts”, but she let the screaming pterodactyl pass because it was so funny.

And slowly, inevitably, Lucas melted against my side, thumb in mouth, and eyelids heavy. Lucy stayed awake longer, but by the end her head was resting on my arm.

“Bed?” I said in a low voice.

Max looked me in the eye across the sofa, and we both knew the plan had worked.