Page 82 of Put a Rink on It

“One no one is stupid enough to try,” Walsh contributes, his nose scrunching in disgust.

“Why are we even entertaining this idea?” Juliet wonders. “Olives and cookies don’t belong in the same sentence.” A shudder passes through her.

“Exactly,” Lennon agrees. “Let’s eat the yummy cookies.”

Millie and Aubrey leave to gather the cookies, and I scoot Marina’s chair closer. “I’m learning so much about you tonight. We should do this more often.”

“Yes, let’s,” she deadpans. “I love when people gang up on me about my opinions.”

She’s always been tight with her family, but I’ve never had such an up-close view of them interacting. When they ride you about something, it’s out of love and nothing else. They trade barbs like they’re going out of style, and even Lennon’s in on the jokes when appropriate. A certain comfort level that’s missing from the Champion family.

I’ve heard about Marina’s first—and only—experience playing hockey. To her credit, she doesn’t get angry when Millie shares the story but takes it in stride. I’ve learned how she used to pretend Walsh was “her” baby and was surprisingly helpful in taking care of him at six. I also gleaned she’s a secret keeper from her family, something I knew. She’s always been open with me, but as close as she is to her family, certain things never got shared with them.

“How’s the move going?” Juliet asks, giving Marina an excuse to discuss something else. I don’t miss how Millie perks up at the question as she reenters the kitchen with containers of cookies in her hand.

Marina let her family know she’s moving to Connecticut next week, though it’ll be later in the week since there was nothing available on Monday, not even for the price I was willing to pay. Hence the family dinner, or at least part of the reason.

“Eh, it’s going. Nero and I started organizing today, and movers will pack and move the big stuff next week. Whatever’s not coming with me will be donated.”

“I’m free,” Jonathan volunteers. “If you want your old man’s help.”

“Thanks, Daddy. As always, it’s appreciated.” Marina reaches out and squeezes his hand.

“Packing a house is one way to spend your two weeks off from hockey,” Walsh deadpans.

“It could be worse,” I reply. “This gives me more time to explore Ships in her natural habitat.”

Marina processes my comments with a slow blink, but it’s Juliet who squeals. “Damn, he’s so got your number, Marina. I’m so giddy for you.” Her fingers clasp together under her chin, her joy evident.

To my left, Marina freezes, the only chink in her armor tonight. Of all the things that set her off, it’s me wanting to spend more time in Vermont. I can’t process that.

She shakes out of her trance after a few seconds with a long exhale. “Let’s table the discussion for later, not in front of little ears,” Marina finally admits.

Walsh nods. “Much appreciated.”

Millie and Aubrey set out five different flavor cookies on the table, and Aubrey names each one with a pointed finger. “S’mores. White chocolate cranberry. Chocolate chip. Oatmeal raisin. Maple brown sugar.” That one earns a disgusted expression.

A swarm of fingers reaches out for different ones.

“Which one is your favorite?” I ask Aubrey.

“None.”

“None? You didn’t make your favorite?”

“I don’t eat cookies.” Her tone is nonchalant, and there’s no trace of indecision or dislike present.

“You don’t eat cookies?” The question leaps out before I can rein it in. What kid, heck what person, doesn’t eat cookies?

“Bean’s sweet tooth is nonexistent. We’ve made peace with it,” Tate explains matter-of-factly with no judgment. “Besides, there’s more for us.”

“Don’t waste your breath, Nero,” Lennon continues. “Not everyone has to like something because it’s yummy or fun. We all have different likes and dislikes. That’s what Keeley always tells me.”

“So glad some of my lessons are getting through,” Walsh scoffs.

“And we shouldn’t judge people for what we like. Even when it’s olives.” Marina’s comment lands to a chorus of laughter.

“Aubrey, the chocolate chips are your best yet,” Jonathan praises.