Page 83 of Learn Your Lesson

Uncle Mitch sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I would rather take her to the arcade and suffer the stickiness and noise that comes with that than sit through another fucking hockey game.”

Will smirked. “I’ll pray for your eardrums, then.”

Mitch eased his hands into his pockets, rocking up on his toes and peeking into the house a bit more. “So, uh, is Arushi here? I swore I could smell her amazing cooking from outside.”

“She just left about an hour ago,” I said, and I didn’t miss the disappointment on his face. Will and I shared a curious glance, but before either of us could remark on anything, Ava bounded down the stairs.

“Okay, I’m ready!”

She had the hockey uniform I made her clutched in her arms, and she beamed up at the three of us in a way that made it hard to remember the kid she’d been at the beginning of this semester.

“Pumpkin, I’m not sure you need that,” Will tried, ruffling her hair and nodding to the jersey. “Sure you don’t want to leave it here so I can wash it and have it clean for youwhen you get home?”

“It’s not smelly,” she defended, sniffing it for good measure. “And I gotta show Uncle Mitch!”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Mitch said, bending to her level and offering to carry it for her. She reluctantly handed it over, and then he told her to go get herself situated in the car and he’d be right out.

Ava shot out like a bullet, belting a Mia Love song at the top of her lungs as she swung the back door of Mitch’s truck open and climbed up. She was big enough to know how to get herself into the booster seat and buckle up, but I watched her from the doorway just in case — and I knew Mitch would double check when he got out there, too.

“Hey, have you, uh… have you called your old man lately?”

I stiffened at the mention of Will’s father, but kept my eyes on Ava so as not to pry into a conversation not meant for me.

“Not lately,” Will admitted. “He okay?”

“Sure, yeah. Just misses you.”

“Phone works both ways.”

Mitch sighed. “I’m not arguing that, just… you know him. He does his best. Like the rest of us.”

There was a long, understanding silence between uncle and nephew, and I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see them embrace in a hug that spoke of years and years of history.

Interesting, how Will never really spoke about his dad, but I knew he watchedJeopardyevery night he was home because it was something he and his father used to do together. There was clearly some fondness there — but, maybe some pain, too.

I longed to know more, but knew I couldn’t ask.

Mitch squeezed his shoulder. “Alright. I’ll drop her off at school in the morning.”

With a smile and nod of his head as he passed me, Mitch let himself out. Just as I expected, he double checked that Ava was safely buckled before climbing into the driver seat. Ava waved excitedly as they pulled out of the drive.

And then it was just the two of us.

It wasn’t necessarily an uncomfortable quiet that fell over the house once that truck was gone, but it was… heavy. Charged. Like if I touched a blanket I’d get an electric shock.

Will shoved his hands into the pockets of his joggers, but he didn’t move his large frame out of my way. I shut the front door behind me, my back against it, but still, he stayed put.

He was still the same man who dropped his daughter off on the first day of school, and yet, so much about him had changed. His hair was a little longer now, the stubble on his jaw a little more coarse. He didn’t look as tired as he had when I’d taken this job. His eyes were brighter now, his skin glowing a rich bronze, his cheeks full instead of hollow.

But his golden eyes were still as sad as ever.

I wondered if that would ever change.

“Tuesday night,” he said — as if I wasn’t aware.

I smiled. “Yep.”

“Plans?”