Page 60 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

Why do those three innocuous words make my hands shake? I mean, I couldn’t read anything into them if I tried. And I shouldn’t try. That would be an enormous waste of energy.

No point overanalyzing three words from a man I’ll never see again after I leave town just over two weeks from now.

He did reply quickly though. Thought he’d be too cool for that.

I drop the phone back into my purse, put the Jeep in gear, and head toward Main Street with a smile annoying my lips.

Everything will be fine.

If only my damn heart would stop fluttering.

CHAPTER 20

NATALIE

“So, then,” Aunt Lou says as I put dinner down in front of her.

She’s been run off her feet all day, driving residents back and forth to medical appointments because the town’s one public access vehicle, that the Senior Central residents call the Silver Shuttle, broke down. So I thought it was her turn to be taken care of, and made us shepherd’s pie with a side of fresh winter greens from the local organic produce store.

And I guess we’re now on the verge of the gentle-yet-probing psychiatrist-style interrogation I’ve been waiting for.

She was up and out before me this morning, so we hadn’t seen each other all day until she walked through the door forty-five minutes ago, kicked off her shoes and declared she needed to soak in a hot bath.

Our only interaction has been her reply to the text I sent last night telling her I was staying late at the theater topaint scenery with Gabe and not to worry if I wasn’t back before she went to bed.

Her response came before I woke up, and all it said was, “Ooooooh.”

I didn’t respond.

And have been dreading this conversation all day.

I mean, it’s not like I can tell her I boinked the hockey star she lusts after in a front row seat of the theater.

“How did things go last night?” She doesn’t look at me, just picks up her fork and digs in.

“Painting went well, thanks. Got most of it done. No thanks to the bunch of people who showed up claiming to be helpers but were only there because they thought Gabe might be.”

“Ah, yes. Gabe.” She puts down her fork and rests her elbows on the table, interlacing her fingers above her plate. “I’d forgotten about him.”

I just about stifle a giggle. Sure she had.

“Yeah, well, they were all mightily disappointed. The men were wearing whatever hockey jerseys they owned, and the women had more makeup on than you’d see on an entire season ofRuPaul’s Drag Race.”

“How silly to be so starstruck when he seems like such a lovely normal young man.”

“But then he showed up out of the blue.” I peer at her over my forkful of mashed potatoes and gravy. “Obviously.”

“Yes, yes.” Aunt Lou jabs at her greens. “Since you ended up working late with him.”

She’s so desperately trying to hold herself back from delving deeper that I can’t help but chuckle. She’s like an overblown balloon—just one more puff and she’ll pop.

“He was helpful.” Yeah, I’ll leave it at that.

“Such a nice young man.” She doesn’t take her eyes off her dinner.

“It took hours. Couldn’t believe how late it was when we stopped.” I stare down at my food too.

“Seems like he has a good community spirit.” Aunt Lou’s tone verges on teasing. Is she messing with me?

---