Page 103 of Penalty Shot

Is there anyone in this world who doesn’t immediately adore Elise Chen?

“This is my husband, Jim.”

“Hi!” Elise says with a hug. “I was admiring Corinne’s scarf and she said you got it for her in Paris during your honeymoon. That’s incredibly romantic. I’d love to go there one day.”

Mental note: bring Elise to Paris as soon as humanly possible.

“When you do, there’s this amazing bistro in Montmartre you must visit…”

Corinne’s voice trails off because she’s brought Elise to the living room to sit back and chat.

If there’s someone happy to have a girlfriend to hang with during dinner, it’s Corinne, who has patiently put up with the Haughland men’s spectacular lack of social skills. She was close to Mom, too, and has felt the absence of her female ally in ways even I can’t imagine.

Dinner isn’t a picture of warm hospitality, but it’s less frosty, a dip on the Oregon Coast instead of a plunge between icebergs.

Dad’s prime rib roast that he makes with all the fixings, including mashed potatoes and green beans with toasted almonds, is perfect as always. Except this time, instead of taking it for granted because it’s always the first meal he serves when I’m in town, Elise asks him to elaborate on his herb rub or whatever. They talk about recipes and the price of gas in Canada.

Before I realize it, two whole hours have passed with surprising ease.

“Leave the dishes,” Dad says, stalling Corinne’s efforts to load the dishwasher. “You still have quite a drive, and Elise and Randall are tired from a travel day.”

“I’m not tired at all,” Elise chirps.

“There’s only traffic during rush hour,” Jim says with a shrug.

“What do you guys usually do for fun after dinner?” Elise asks expectantly.

Corinne coughs up some of her wine because fun is not a word you hear very often in this vicinity.

“Do you go for a walk after dinner? Watch a movie? Play board games maybe?”

“We used to play a card game called five hundred,” Dad answers, shocking everyone except the person he’s talking to. “My wife, Margaret, she insisted the boys learn it.”

Stillness. Complete, utter, silent stillness.

The only moving object is my heart that has turned into an erratic drum.

Elise feels the change in the air brought on by the weight of my mother’s name and the shock of my father’s admission.

But she doesn’t cower under its pressure at all. Instead, with a compassionate voice and a sweet smile, she tells Dad, “I’d love to learn the game, if you’re up to teaching a novice.”

“I haven’t played in years. I don’t remember how to score the winning hands,” Dad says, dumbfounded.

“I remember,” Corinne pipes in. “She taught me, too. I have a picture of the scoresheet. Margaret wrote it out before…Anyway, I took a picture so I wouldn’t forget.”

Corinne barely gets the words out before her audible sniff and Jim’s choked hiccup. Elise stands beside me the entire time. The ground is unstable, but she’s keeping me standing just by being there.

We stay for another two hours.

For the first time since before Mom got too sick to do anything, we played her favorite card game.

Randall takes me everywhere like he’s the official ambassador for Vancouver and the surrounding area.

We hike up Shannon Falls one day and the next day, go down a beach with a tide so low you can walk half a mile in search of clams embedded in the wet sand. We dine at a fancy steak house with his whole family including Charles—who was delightfully friendly despite being what has been described as a cutthroat litigator. And then three hours later, grab street food at a night market with his high school buddies.

We spent a couple of nights in a fancy log home in Whistler. When I explained the experience to Lily, I tried to capture the contradiction of extreme sports meets urban royalty. Adrenaline junkies reeking of pot walk alongside fancy shoppers with Gucci bags and silicone lips.

Thank goodness we didn’t visit during the winter when I’d be expected to ski. There’s no way I’d make it down Blackcomb Mountain’s vertical drop in one piece.