Page 70 of Dump and Chase

Ethan leaned against the cabinets and shrugged. “Not much. Whenever we need him, he gets called up for a few games, fights a few people, then goes back to the Ravens. Why?”

“If I tell you, it has to stay between us.”

Ethan nodded, concerning washed over his face. “Has he been giving you trouble?”

“Nothing like that. Apparently, he told Jim he needed painkillers. I guess he wants Jim to advocate for him. Jim won’t do it. In fact, he’s concerned Dube has a problem because he asked for and received painkillers before.”

Ethan cringed and blew out a breath. “Tang, lots of guys are taking painkillers. This isn’t news.”

“Maybe not, but Jim is afraid of him. He fears retribution. Dube has allegedly keyed cars, slashed tires, and pushed around teammates.”

That caught his attention. “Now that’s not good.”

“I told Jim he had my support, but I’ve never examined Dube and have no relationship with him other than the first time I saw him in training camp.”

Ethan shook his head. “Nope. You should stay out of it. Let Jim, Allan, and Fontaine figure this out.”

I decided not to argue with him, but at least it was on his radar.

* * *

Our guests showed up around six that evening. The turkey was resting, and I’d just finished up all the sides. Amanda came into the kitchen dressed for a night on the town while I was in stretchy black yoga pants and a sweater that was starting to show my baby bump.

“Can I help?” she asked. Her blonde hair flowed down her shoulders and nearly to her waist. One look at her fingernails told me there was no way she could do much of anything. They were manicured talons.

“I think I’m good. I was just going to ask Ethan to carve the turkey.”

“I can carve the turkey,” Brandon said, entering the open-concept kitchen.

Ethan heard Brandon and came jogging over. “No, I’ve got it.”

“You’re busy handing out drinks,” Brandon said.

“I’m done.”

Great. Was this going to happen all night long?

“Would you like to split carving the duties? Or should we draw straws? Better yet, let’s just let Jeremy carve the turkey,” I said.

“It’d be an honor,” Jeremy said, rising from the sofa, a huge, smug smile on his face. Both Brandon and Ethan moped, but I didn’t care.

As I brought dishes out to the dining room, Ethan and Brandon tripped over themselves to help while Jeremy, Ryan and Amanda took seats and watched. Maybe having Ethan invite Brandon hadn’t been such a good idea.

Once the turkey was butchered but carved—I probably should have asked Jeremy if he knew how to carve a turkey—we were ready to eat. Dinner conversation centered around hockey gossip, which seemed lost on Amanda. I was having a hard time keeping up myself, and I had an inside edge. The conversation focused on what other teams were doing, what players were up to, and who was doing things he shouldn’t have been doing. But at least everyone was getting along.

“Who wants dessert?” I asked as Ethan and Brandon argued about who would load the dishwasher. Jeremy’s and Ryan’s hands shot up.

I took the empty salad bowl with me to the kitchen and set it on the island. Brandon and Ethan were in a heated discussion about proper dishwasher loading techniques. I wanted to throttle them both.

“Enough,” I said, sounding like my mother. “Brandon, take the pumpkin pie and whipping cream to the table. Ethan, leave the dishes and bring out dessert plates. I’ll get the coffee going.”

They didn’t argue.

I was scooping ground coffee into a filter when Amanda came in with the last of the dishes. She set them down on the island and came over to me.

“Anything I can help with?”

“I’m just waiting for the coffee to finish.”

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