Page 54 of The Game Changer

“I don’t like to brag, but I was pretty good at hockey from a young age.”

“I’m sorry that it’s been taken away from you,” I tell him, squeezing his hand underneath the album. He just nods.

“So, Jill, tell me more about yourself. John has been pretty tight lipped about you these last few months, but my daughter couldn’t stop gushing about you when she returned from her trip a couple weeks ago.”

I smirk at John before turning my attention back to Nancy. “Nothing super exciting. I was born and raised in Indianapolis. My parents have been married for thirty years, and still live in the same house that I grew up in. After I came home from college, I opened my own business up and it has done really well since day one. That has kept me busy the past couple of years and held most of my attention.”

“That’s great. Having the drive and passion to do what you love is not something many people possess. What do your parents do?” she asks.

“My dad’s a pharmacist and Mom’s a housewife, for the most part. She worked a few office jobs here and there to get herself out of the house once I was older. She now volunteers her time with one of our local nursing homes.”

“That’s wonderful,” she replies. We fall into a comfortable conversation, just getting to know one another for the next hour or so. She tells me many stories from John’s childhood that he hasn’t shared with me yet, mainly because they are the embarrassing ones that mothers love to tell about their kids.

“All right, enough stories about me, Mom,” John finally interjects. “Let’s head out. Cindi has texted me three times already asking when we’d be over.”

“I’ve waited thirty-five years to have you bring a girl home to me, you can just hush and let me have my moment,” Nancy tells him.

“Okay, Mom,” he says, rolling his eyes, which causes me to break out into a fit of giggles. “Hush, you,” he says, squeezing my side as we stand from the couch.

I pull him down toward me. “I love you,” I whisper against his lips before ours lock for a sweet kiss.

He wraps me in his arms, taking my innocent kiss a little deeper until we hear a throat clearing. I can feel my face heating with the blush that I know is covering it after being caught by his mom kissing in her living room. John rests his forehead against mine, his eyes boring into mine. “I love you, too,” he whispers, only for me to hear.

“Let’s go, you two love birds,” Nancy says, and John and I pull completely apart. He slides his hand into mine, linking our fingers as we follow his mom out of her condo and into the hallway.

* * *

“Ms. Jill!” Mason calls as he comes running out of Cindi and Stephanie’s house. “You’re here!” he yells as he launches himself into my arms.

“What about me, little man?” John pouts next to me as everyone laughs at the situation. Who would have thought John’s nephew would come running to me before him?

“Hi, Uncle John,” Mason says to him from my arms. “Hi, Grandma.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” John asks him.

Mason looks at him with a quizzical look plastered on his face. “What’s liver?” Mason asks.

“A yucky meal that some people like,” I tell him. “But what Uncle John just said is just a saying. Because you came to me and not him, he’s feeling left out, maybe you should go give him a hug,” I suggest to Mason. He squirms in my arms, attempting to get down, so I help him do so. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he launches himself at John. His head lands directly in John’s crotch, causing him to double over in pain.

“Fu-fudge,” John wheezes.

“What’s wrong?” Mason asks, not sure what is going on.

“You’ve got to be careful with that head of yours, buddy. You just head butted me in the privates,” John grits out.

“I’s sorry,” Mason tells him, a worried look on his little face.

“It’s okay, buddy, just no more launching yourself at me, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees with him.

“Well, now that that’s over, how about we all go inside. Can I get anyone anything to drink?” Cindi asks as she holds the door open for all of us to pass through.

“I’ll take something, thank you,” I tell her. I follow John as he makes his way further into the house.

“I’ve got water, lemonade, some pop, and I’m sure I could rummage up some wine.”

“Lemonade will be great,” I tell her.

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