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Molly

Tonight is a big night.

The boys need to win this game to take a commanding lead in this series.

I’m excited and nervous, and it’s not just about the game. Seeing Hudson always makes my tummy feel weird.

I purposely arrived late so I wouldn’t bump into him before they got on the ice. With quick steps, I head to my seat. I wonder if Josie and Cassidy will be here. Sometimes they sit with the hockey wives, but not often. Granted, none of them are married yet, but they practically are.

I think they sit by me because they feel bad and don’t want to leave me alone.

Fine by me.

Tonight, the seats reserved for us are extra-filled.

There are some faces I’ve never seen before standing about, trying to figure out where to sit.

“Excuse me, dear,” the older man says.

He’s standing next to an older woman and a younger girl, probably in her late teens. The parents seem overwhelmed. The pretty young blonde is too busy taking selfies on her phone to notice.

“Yes?” I move closer to them. The woman is petite and has a warm, welcoming smile. She holds her purse close to her chest like she’s afraid someone will steal it.

“I was wondering if you can tell me where our seats are?” the woman says. “We’re not exactly sure where we’re supposed to sit.”

“Of course,” I answer. “Let me see your tickets.”

The young girl hands me her phone, where the tickets are. It makes sense; her parents give off boomer vibes. I look at her phone and see the seat number.

I gesture to the seat right behind me, a row back. “You’re right there.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” the man says, his voice tinged with relief. “We’ve never been to a game before.”

I smile and wait for them to sit before turning around to talk to them.

“Is there anything else you need? I’ll be happy to help.”

“I think we’re good,” the woman answers.

“Speak for yourself. I want food.” The young girl cuts in. “I just can’t leave these two.” She rolls her eyes. “They’re boomers,” she whispers to me.

I can’t help but laugh. “I can grab it for you,” I offer without thinking.

“We couldn’t ask you to do that,” the woman protests.

“Sure, we can, Mom. She offered.” The teen turns to me. “Think you can get me a hot dog? Oh, maybe a pretzel . . . shit, how do I pick?”

“Anna, we don’t talk like that.”

“Whatever, Mom. You let Hudson talk like that.”

Hudson?

She couldn’t mean my Hudson.

He’s not your Hudson. He’s not your anything.

The woman I now know as Hudson’s mom turns toward me. “We can’t ask you to get us food.”

“You’re not asking,” I say with a smile. “I’m offering. It’s no trouble.”

She smiles broadly, and I head out to grab the Wildes some snacks.

A few minutes later, I return with two hot dogs, a bag of popcorn, and sodas.

“You’re so sweet,” Hudson’s mom says. “Thank you, dear.”

“It’s nothing.” I take my seat. “Enjoy the game.”

The game starts, and it’s as if Hudson is playing even better than usual. His parents cheer, and I can’t help but cheer for him too.

“He’s so talented, isn’t he?” His dad beams as he points at Hudson. “Always has been since he was a kid.”

“He’s . . . an incredible player. Really gifted.” Despite my issues with him, he is one of the best players on the team.

My heart aches in my chest. The love they feel.

I wish I had this. Sure, I have Dane, but this is different. My mom did love me, but every year that passes, I forget that love. It’s so clear how much they love Hudson, flaws and all. My eyes fill with tears.

The end of the game comes with a Saints victory. Instead of leaving right away, I stay behind, not wanting his family to get lost. When the crowd thins out, they make no move to leave, still buzzing from the win.

“Want me to take you to Hudson?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. He’s meeting us at dinner. Do you know Hudson?”

“I do. I actually work for the team, well, not the team. My brother, Dane, is a Saint.”

“You’re Molly?” his mom asks.

I smile. “I am.”

“Hudson has spoken of you. It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Mary.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

What has Hudson said about me? Something tells me nothing bad since she’s still being nice to me.

“Thank you so much for your help tonight. You didn’t have to, but we’re so grateful.”

I smile, tucking my hands into the pockets of my coat. “It was my pleasure. Really.”

“I’m Hudson’s dad, David. We’re heading to dinner to celebrate his birthday. Would you like to join us? We’d love to have you.”

His birthday?

How did I not know it was his birthday?

Do any of the players know?

I hesitate for a second. My heart tugs in two directions. Spending more time with Hudson’s parents, who are so sweet and not interfering. Or spending time with Hudson. But the part of me that wants to be part of this moment a little longer wins out.

“I’d love to.”