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Izzy turns back around, handing me the dish to dry. Under her breath, she says, “For what it’s worth, I liiiike her.” Rolling my eyes, I turn to put away the bowl, and when I turn back, she’sglaring at me. “Maybe a change in the type of girl you go for is exactly what you need.”
“I don’t have a type,” I whisper-yell.
She bursts out laughing.
At that moment, my father comes in from the back. “What’s all this laughing?”
“Nothing, Dad. Zaiah thinks he’s a regular comedian over here.”
He sits on the couch opposite Lenore, and I smile when he peers over at her. My dad is such a people person. Hell, he could talk to a light pole. It was smart to bring her today, forcing her to interact. You’d have to be rude not to be active where my family is concerned.
“Lenore, have you ever seen Zaiah play hockey?”
Her gaze darts up. Every time hockey is mentioned, she startles a little. I’ll have to unravel that mystery. Actually, Len has a lot of mysteries. Pulling stuff from her is like trying to make fire out of water.
“Oh, yeah. Yes.” She shakes her head. “I have. I’m sure I have.”
“I hope you’ll come to his game tomorrow.”
He barely has the words out before she’s answering. “Oh, no, I have to work on my article.”
I can’t help but grin.Man, she wants to avoid it at all costs, doesn’t she?
“No, remember?” I ask, turning completely to face them. I dry off a dish until she peers at me. “I already got you a ticket. You said you wanted to come for thatotherarticle you were going to write.”
Her gaze narrows, but she plasters a fake smile on her face. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I put you in the family section with Mom, Dad, and Izzy.”
My dad waggles his brows like a cartoon character. “VIP.”
She can barely muster fake enthusiasm. “That sounds…great.”
When my dad glances away from her, Len tosses me a look, but I shrug, my lips curving into a grin. She approached me about this, so it’s all on her. She needs to experience hockey before she can write about it. Maybe I can even get her to a practice, too.
“You’re not a sports person?” my father asks.
“Not really.” She clears her throat. “My dad’s a big, um, sports person, though. I guess that kind of turned me off.”
“Turned you off?”
“Dad,” Izzy warns. I swear she has a sense of when to push and when not to push people.
He waves his hand. “I know, I’m prying. Forgive me.”
Len shrugs. “It’s fine.”
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. Silence in the RV lengthens.
Strange…
Smoothing the towel over the sink, I say, “Well, Dad, I hate to break up this party, but Lenore and I have to get back.”
He stands from the couch, the smile dropping from his face. “Let me tell your mother.”
There’s a shift in the RV, and I wonder if Lenore can feel it. We’ve eaten, we’ve played games, we’ve talked. But now I have to go prep for the game, and my mom is about to come out crying.
On cue, sniffles sound behind me. “Oh, baby.”