Page 41 of Rowdy Hearts

When I turned back to the ice, I realized someone had put a board over the goal with a tiny opening at the bottom.

And the announcer, with her whiskey-and-gravel voice, said, “All right, you know what’s coming next. And if you don’t, where’ve you been? This league’s been around for nearly fifteen years. For all you newcomers, each of our rookies is going to show off their best moves on the ice, and for every goal, the teams donate a hundred dollars to charity. For off-ice moves, well, you’re gonna have to figure that one out on your own.”

The announcer’s voice took on a sly tone that made my smile widen.

“All right, boys. Show us what you got. And make it good.”

I had a feeling Rowdy would be happy to show me exactly what his moves were. And not on the ice.

CHAPTER TEN

Tressy

“Mommy,I’m not sleepy. I wanna go to the pawty.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.”

The game had ended almost fifteen minutes ago, and Krista stood in a corner outside the locker room, little arms crossed over her chest and the most adorably stubborn expression that nearly made my heart melt.

But my little girl was dead tired after a long day, and I was trying to be a good mom. Krista needed to go to bed. No matter how much I wanted to go to the after party.

My inner bad girl, who was slowly awakening from a self-induced coma, really wanted me to go to the party. That girl hadn’t been out and about for years. She didn’t want me messing things up.

Would it hurt to have a little fun? Just for one night? In a town where no one knew who I was?

Apparently, it would.

“I can so…” loud yawn, “keep my eyes open.”

Except, no matter how hard she tried, Krista’s eyelids kept falling lower and lower.

Looks like that bad girl would need to go back to her coma for now.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you—” I almost said home then remembered we were nowhere near home, “to bed.”

I picked up Krista, who immediately did her wanna-get-down wiggle. My daughter was normally a good-natured kid, but she could throw a tantrum like a champ, especially when she was tired. I could sense it coming, could feel Krista gathering her remaining strength to begin crying when Raffi walked up to us, seemingly from out of nowhere.

“Hey now, what’s the matter, sweet girl?” Raffi leaned in to speak to Krista, still trying to wriggle out of my arms. “What do you need?”

For a second, I held my breath, wondering if Krista would start to scream bloody murder, and everyone would think my baby was a monster, and they would judge me as a bad mother, and no one would want to be around us.

And then I realized that was my mom’s voice in my subconscious. I thought I’d evicted her from living rent-free in my head years ago.

“I wanna go to the party.”

Krista’s voice was ratcheting up, and I winced, trying to reposition Krista so I didn’t drop her on the floor in front of a gathering crowd that I was sure was staring at us.

“Well, I’m not going to that party, so maybe you and I could have our own.”

“Oh, no, Raffi, you don’t have to?—”

Krista stopped wriggling. “We could?”

I shook my head, looking at Raffi with complete and utter mortification.

“Well, of course, we could, sweetheart. How does you, me, acouch and ‘The Little Mermaid’ sound? That’s always been my favorite.”

“Raffi, I can take her ho—back to the house myself. You don’t have to?—”

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